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Angry Sonnets | Shakespeare and Petrarch are turning in their respective graves. | Page 2

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Newer posts →. April 13, 2012 · 2:31 am. Bright that I dare not draw the curtains, knowing the sun would shatter me. I come out only after dark, to feed. At the store my spider hands pick and pull at plastic bags of rice and hard, dried bricks of noodles. How much? April 13, 2012 · 12:35 am. What do you want to be when you grow up? I think it’s a wonderful plan, she answered, I think it’s the greatest plan I’ve ever heard. She went on to explain that people had asked her the Great Question growing up too...

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The Painting | Angry Sonnets

https://anniemathias.wordpress.com/2012/09/25/the-painting

The Moon →. September 25, 2012 · 5:32 am. I had in me an empty jar,. And questioned much on how to scry. A painting, to define from far. Why placed itself within my eye. With practiced hand I took a piece,. Pigment from each defining part. When sealed, itself, against release,. Supplanted fast my beating heart. Thusly observed, turned, twisted, wrest. Each piece stood perfect, solitaire. But spark the painting still possessed,. Its separate limbs had lost its flair. Bewildered, I retired and hid,. This b...

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Summer | Angry Sonnets

https://anniemathias.wordpress.com/2012/04/22/summer

A Meeting →. April 22, 2012 · 1:37 am. Dear Tiger, you must know I love you true,. From end of tail up to your fuzzy cap. Adore your soft nose and spring eyes I do,. But seriously don’t sit on my lap. It’s fucking hot as hell inside my flat,. The landlord’s not seen fit to cool the air. No respite e’en without you, furry cat. I’m melting here in just my underwear. Oh thanks, dear kitty, now I see your vote. And I must say our parties don’t agree. These pants are black, if you would care to note,. Middot;...

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The Moon | Angry Sonnets

https://anniemathias.wordpress.com/2012/09/26/the-moon

Cage-Fighting Nuns and Tanks →. September 26, 2012 · 6:31 am. In and expecting agony I lie. Awaiting sonorous and heavy ring. Which crawls to its lament rather than fly;. The night itself upon whose knell I sing. For death here means the eve of sick for you. That which has fallen here, there only falls. What born to me, to you has paid its dues,. Has lasted yours and new upon me calls. If I must wait for this, I will remain. As windows snap and shutter on themselves. Cage-Fighting Nuns and Tanks →. Middo...

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To My Roommate | Angry Sonnets

https://anniemathias.wordpress.com/2012/04/15/to-my-roommate

Next Post →. April 15, 2012 · 10:20 pm. Rome crumbles, London burns and down Pompeii;. The time is finished now to stop and woo. So constant is the sound of death today,. Inflicted by that beast with spines of two. The banging of its loathsome, fickle claw. Since twilight has assaulted harsh mine ear,. Such growls and moans from deep its frothy maw,. Ensue to fill the neighbors’ hearts with fear. Have some kindness, beast, some decency! Allow at least my sleeping head to lay,. Next Post →. Shakespeare an...

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Angry Sonnets

https://anniemathias.wordpress.com/2012/04/17/47

April 17, 2012 · 11:12 pm. One response to “. Zen and the art of borderline maintenance. April 18, 2012 at 1:37 am. I like the quote at the bottom.🙂. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out. Notify me of new comments via email.

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A Meeting | Angry Sonnets

https://anniemathias.wordpress.com/2012/09/18/a-meeting

The Painting →. September 18, 2012 · 4:01 am. Why every meeting must include a show. Of moving gifs and indecipherable font,. I swear to Jesus I will never know. Nor understand. And God knows I don’t want. For pictures of a lightbulb o’er a head,. And twisted, tie-dyed backgrounds writhing mad. It only makes me yearn for my soft bed,. And curse the hour I left that heav’n I had. I don’t know what you’re trying to convey;. I hope it’s not important, for I’m gone. Your droning voice has drifted me away;.

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Cage-Fighting Nuns and Tanks | Angry Sonnets

https://anniemathias.wordpress.com/2012/09/26/cage-fighting-nuns-and-tanks

September 26, 2012 · 9:28 pm. Cage-Fighting Nuns and Tanks. AUTHOR’S NOTE: I wrote this because of an amusing piece from one of my favorite comics, The Oatmeal ( http:/ theoatmeal.com/comics/facebook likes. I DO NOT own The Oatmeal, I DO NOT write The Oatmeal. I am just a fan and I thought it would be challenging to write a story about cage-fighting nuns in tanks. So please enjoy, and also please check out The Oatmeal because it is HILARIOUS. Behind the curtains all was darkness, the tiny red lights that...