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As delicately as a rose,
proffers its precious petals

We gently offer
poetical intensity.

Lyrical insanity.

Grammer ungrounded.

Your sensitive nose
senses the essence
concealed in the nonsense.

With mental inspiration
you receive.





Mental Inspiration

Return to the infinite...




The following scheme of poetry is ever changing.
Some of it was written here. Other pieces arose elsewhere.
Authors names are marked or linked.
please enjoy


Love AND Lust
Between the Lines,
Under the Verse.
by Red Mantis

Last night i was lost in a poem of desire in your eyes, fire in your souL.

Oceans with waves azure, expanses of rolling golden sensuous yoU.

Vagrant tendrils of thought carried me along future spindles in your armS.

Existence etched on a glass shard somewhere between love and lusT.


Red Mantis

Nothing in life is certain nor constant
The winds of change blow fickle and thickly
And strange and wanton chance demonstrant
Weaves its wend in paths most sickly

Rest not the weary soles of your deep toil
Overly long on any one soil
For even whilst reposing gently
The world revolves and shifts aplenty



At a dinner in the honour of Albert Einstein on his visit to the California Institute of Technology, Pasadena, California.
W.H.Williams, 1924

And space, it has dimensions four,
Instead of only three.
The square of the hypotenuse
Ain't what it used to be.
It grieves me sore, the things you've done
to plane geometry.

You hold that time is badly warped,
That even light is bent;
I think I get the idea there,
If this is what you meant;
The mail the postman brings today,
Tomorrow will be sent.

The shortest line, Einstein replied
is not the one that's straight,
It curves around upon itself,
Much like a figure eight.
And if you go too rapidly
You will arrive too late.



The Way of the Tao

Keep stretching a bow
You repent of the pull,

A whetted saw
Goes thin and dull,

Surrounded with treasure
You lie ill at ease,

Proud beyond measure
You come to your knees:

Do enough without vieing,
Be living, not dying.

by Lao Tzu


The Statue
Red Mantis




On a murderously buffetted, isolated crag,

Beside the salty bodies of decaying fish

There lies a statue in a pose aghast.


It's head is embraced, gently encased in the

Welcoming grasp of a sunken tree's toes.

It's frozen face, a rictus of emotion.


Nearby stony fingers claw at encroaching nomadic

Plant scouts; infiltrating root modules

Wielding chlorophyll-laden blades.


A torso twists in its mossy bed, writhing in helpless disgust,

Impotent latissimus. A devestating fissure fractures

Its unity, bisecting orthogonally its eroding continuity.


The wind ceases its soliloquy long enough to catch its breath, then

Recommences at redoubled pace its attempt to

Drown out a tirelessly crashing tidal tirade.


A tern perches pertinently atop serrated ankles.

Disembodied feet cling tenaciously to

A canted pedestal with toes flexed, arches bowed.


Corroded brass, encrusted with lichen embellishments and

Etched with words is sunken into the pedestal like eyes

Embedded in a wrinkle-wreathed face.


Hidden in this lonely place, the plaque proffers

This braille encoded wisdom, to be

Deciphered slowly by gentle insect feet.

"Abandon all hope, ye
who cease to love, fail to live.
I came, I saw, I conquered, I fell."

What is a sonnet?

A Few Sonnets by Red Mantis

Sonnet IX
red mantis

Shall I harp to thee of warm summer nights,

Within whose hair the brilliant stars do strobe?

Whose fragrant arms and multicoloured robe

Have not, nor may not ever shine their lights

For our twinned eyes to merrily behold,

Ere yet our hour together has grown old?

For Time in its malicious seeming play

Has chosen that our destinies entwine.

While Fate sees fit to transport me away,

Across vast distances of ocean brine.

But still I smile and eat this bitter pill,

And swill it down with Cupid's amber wine,

To know thee poor is Aphrodite's will,

To touch thine heart and know thee more is mine.


The Seasons
red mantis

Let not encroaching cold our bond inter,

Nor let hoar's ragged teeth our love defile,

But snap the icy nose of old Winter

And melt his frigid gaze with your hot smiles.

His jealous heart our bond would long to cleave,

Which forged in fall's crisp halls and leafy lanes

Doth blaze a fiery trail on Autumn's sleeve.

Whose passions echo like a song's refrain

And cause the lonely season yet to grieve

Ere soft snows mark the onset of his reign,

Which endures until Spring's first kiss reprieves

The frozen tears on frosted window panes.

Onward I bid we let our passions climb,

Like Summer's rose preserved throughout all time.



Sonnets are a fixed verse poetry form of possible Italian origin. They are composed of 14 lines of 5-foot iambics ('da-dum'-type syllable pairs) with a highly defined rhyme scheme.

Shakespearean Sonnets

Typical 'Shakespearean' variants consist of 4,4,4,2 rhyme pattern with the first three groups of four lines called "quatrains" and the last two rhyming lines called a "rhyming couplet".

A Shakespearean sonnet rhyme scheme might look like this:


Where each of the letters above represents a unique rhyming sound. [for example: ABAB would mean that the word at the ends of the respecitve lines were Nights, Robe, Lights, Strobe] Rhyme schemes are varied within the whole to generate timing and effect in the poem.

In the case of the Shakespearean style of sonnet the rhyming couplet at the end has added impact due to the contrast with the three preceding quatrains.

Italian Sonnets

In contrast, a classical 'Italian' sonnet is likely to be composed of an octet and a sestet, thematically.



The Challenge of Sonnets

Part of the challenge of writing a sonnet is to stay within the rigorous rhyme scheme. One good way to start writing a sonnet is to work backwards and choose the words which are going to be the ends of each line first and then to write the lines that lead up to those words. This can lead you to think 'vertically' within the poem and adds another dimension to the creative process of writing poetry.

The Beauty of Poetry

A large part of the beauty of poems is that they make our minds vibrate at a different energy level than they would otherwise have achieved without reading those words. Part of the effect is in the perception, and part of it is in the emotions that are subsequently evoked.

Poets love to make you think.

Poets ache to make you feel.

Poetry always challenges us to perceive differently.

Read some actual sonnets

A Selection of Poetry By Red Mantis:

Poetry and the manipulation of words on paper for pleasure is something to which I was exposed at an early age. One of my early scholarly recollections was of winning a provincial book prize in grade 3.Then, subsequently undergoing the traumatic experience of having to stand up in front of a large crowd of adults, present the memorized poem and accept a gift certificate for $50 worth of books. To this day I still recall the poem as if it was seared on my cerebellum. I had just finished reading J.R.R. Tolkein's The Hobbit and was asked to encapsulate the novel in a Haiku [5 syllable, 7 syllable, 5 syllable, 3-lines] style poem. This is what I came up with:

The Hobbit
red mantis

From darkness through light

Against forces of evil

The Hobbit triumphs.

RedMantis Poetry Index:

The following poems by Red Mantis are currently available:

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