A place that freely holds my heart in stone
And brick, that stops the beating of my pain
Each time I hear a clock with royal tone,
Or feel the comfort of a drop of rain.
A place where no one knows your name or face
But makes you feel like someone with a soul,
And tantalizes you with its embrace
Of scents that fill the cracks and make you whole.
A place where when you leave keeps hold of time,
Until the poppy runs its course and wakes
The sleeping core with memories of rhyme,
And leads you back with need to ease the aches.
This place is not a place one falls back on,
This home, this heart, this being is London.
Being an English
major, literature is something that I am really interested in and something
that I am extremely passionate about. I love the history of literature and the
people who changed the world with their writings. While some people may become
frustrated with extrapolating the unknown meaning from a text that has an
infinite number of meanings, I relish in that challenge to think like the
author and try and understand what he/she meant. The point of literature is
that nobody knows the true meaning, except for the author, who is mostly long
dead by now. It gives us an opportunity to look inside ourselves and interpret
the world the way we see it. That may be entirely different from how the person
next to us sees it, but that’s the point! Literature and the arts are not
definitive. Someone may look at a Jackson Pollock painting and see a bunch of
paint splatters on a canvas, but to someone else, that painting could invoke
emotions of fear, hatred, love, serenity, etc. Maybe it is the physical state
we are in at that point, or the capacity that we allow ourselves to feel, but
any type of art or literature can influence one and pass by the other. Each
interpretation becomes entirely special to that one person, which gives
somewhat of a personal connection between author and audience. For me, William
Shakespeare speaks to my soul like no other human being, dead or alive, has
ever been able to. I genuinely believe that I have a relationship with him that
no other human being does, and that is so unbelievably true. Humans are meant
to feel, behave, understand, connect, and interpret the world in different
ways, ways that are special to the individual. Shakespeare inspires me more
than any other author I have ever read and will most likely continue to do so
for the rest of my life.
I chose to write this sonnet about
London (my favorite place in the entire world), staying true to a typical
Shakespearean style sonnet. A Shakespearean sonnet contains three quatrains and
a couplet, holding fourteen lines total. He writes in iambic pentameter (ten
beats per line), and has an ABAB CDCD EFEF GG rhyme scheme. Shakespeare wrote
one hundred fifty-four sonnets, all of them in lyrical form as opposed to
poetry that tells a story or a witty observation. Most of Shakespeare’s sonnets
surround the topic of love, which is common for the sonnet form. Because I did
not really want to write a love sonnet to my mom (whom I love more than anybody
at this point), I chose to write a sonnet to the city of London. I had the
opportunity to live in London for four months over a year ago and was changed
by its history, culture, people, and beauty. London shaped me into the person I
am today and defined the kind of life I strive to live for myself. I will never
be able to repay this city for the life that it brought into my soul or the
light that now fills my mind and my heart. In a sense, this sonnet is an ode to
the place that became a home and the person that became a friend through his
own sonnets.