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contemplate
again!
                       nothing
                      accords
                       with
                     cerebral
                 understanding
impressions
survive;
actualities
disappear -
personalities
s   c   a   t   t   e   r
icons


-Vijayalakshmi Harish
11.10.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Special thanks to Aditya Bhaskara for introducing me to this form.
A Word Sonnet as I understand is a variation of the traditional sonnet. It is fourteen lines long, but containing only one word in each line. So, it is in essence, a short form like a haiku/tanka, and requires just as much care to write!
 Oct 2012 Apollonian
Raj Arumugam
1
What my brother-in-law said to me:
Hey, bro…glad to talk to you…
I’m flying in all the way from Canada
in 30 days’ time…yeah, whole family
Wife and the 3 kids
Hey, you ought to get leave for a week –
we’ll stay in your place,
and you can drive us about Victoria…
it’s really my sis and you we want to see…
Yeah, get back to me after you speak
to the people at your workplace



2
What I told my brother-in-law:
I asked my boss,
and he said leave’s not possible…
He needs me to be at work
says he can’t manage without me



What my brother-in-law said back to me:
Oh, we’ll try my wife’s side then
You know, the ones who live in Mauritius
We’d really like to see them…



3
What actually happened
Well, to be honest,
I asked my boss for the week off
and he said:
You’ve let so much work hang for so long
you’d need a whole year to finish
Let me make it plain, you shirker:
This year, you get NO days off


And I shook his hands enthusiastically,
and I said to him:
Thanks, boss – I knew I could always count on you



**...and now I've got my bro-in-law languishing in Canada - and my boss, my colleagues tell me,  feeling perplexed in his office...
...transforming this existing joke into verse demanded a different technique and narrative style...took me quite a while, but I'm happy I got it...and glad my bro-in-law and my boss didn't get 'it'!  (:
 Oct 2012 Apollonian
Katy Turner
I am dead.

My legs are broken
And my mind has betrayed me.

I
Cant
Move.

I hear the screaming.
Loud
Horrible
Torment.

I try to make it stop
But still

I
Cant
Move.

I rip my eyes open,
The air is acid.
Time is rushing through
My disoriented state
Wasting,
Wasting away like
I am.

My lead arm strains
And my lips groan
As I reach
Reach
To stop the torment.

Quiet.

The stomach rises and falls.
The fingers move,
The shoulders roll.

My left knee bends as it
Battles over the precipice.
The right grudgingly follows

My dead body spasms
I scream,
I expand,
I unfold,
I get out of bed.

— The End —