Much has been written about the Vancouver Canucks in the last little while. This, in itself, is not surprising given that we live in a hockey-crazed city. That this latest post, written by popular Canucks blogger Passittobulis, is written in verse form is slightly more unusual, but not completely unheard of. What is absolutely mindblowing, however, is that this poem is written in the form of a classical
Petrarchan sonnet--a verse form dating back to the Early Modern English period, and a notoriously difficult type of poetry to write. Who says English class doesn't relate to real life?
We gather here, to mourn, and eulogize,
The Blackhawks, former champ'ions of this league,
Whose losses, Byfuglien, Burish, Ladd, Versteeg,
And others, have, it seems, spelled their demise.
The core remains intact! Hossa and Toews,
Brent Seabrook, Patrick Kane, and Duncan Keith,
But their enormous contracts, like a wreath,
Didst hang the team. We dance atop their graves!
It's difficult to veil such Schadenfreude,
To be the bigger person, to withdraw.
A frown on every Hawks fan, boy and girl!
This thing, which I have longed to have enjoyed,
I heartlessly and heartily guffaw --
The woe of every Illinoisan churl.
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