Free Form vs. The Sonnet

The poem started as free form poetry:

Fine Arts Building

We spent a semester inside your walls

Watching them crumble as you heard us talk

Of Emerson, Ginsberg, Neruda and Earley

When you were used to Picasso, Rembrandt and fumes

Of paints and clay, worn and dried, fresh and cut

With nothing but humbled pride.

We made eggs in your eye stirring them till

Complete and filling to our mouths that wrapped around the

Words we learned to spout to each other.

To spend our last morning with you.

This is our forever, this is our hello

And it was our goodbye.

-J. McIntyre

Then, I transformed it into Italian sonnet form:

Fine Arts Building

We spent a semester inside your walls

When you were used to Picasso and Hume

and cut with nothing but humbled fumes.

Watching them crumble as you heard our calls

Of Emerson, Ginsberg, Neruda and Walls

Of paints and clay, worn and dried perfume. We

made eggs in your eye stirring them, gooey.

They bloomed, complete and filling to our mouths

which called around the words we learned to spout

wildly. This is our forever, this is

our hello and it was our goodbye.

To spend our last morning with other doubt,

while learning to live here without dismiss.

We will go forward, breathe and standby.

-J. McIntyre

Watching and making this evolution was not easy, nor exactly fun at certain times. But, poetry, I love ya. This is a good dance we have going. I let you lead this time.