Hello! I really, really, really, love writing poems, so I decided to post one of mine up here. I would love feedback and please feel free to post your own up here! Thanks!
In this whole wide world, I am alone,
In this prison I have to call home
I sit there waiting, staring at the door,
Looking for movement, nothing more
I sit there with hope dwindling fast
And I know I will not always last
But I sit, I stare, I hope, I pray
I sit there day to day
Now years have passed, and so have I
All that’s left is a small bleak frame not even able to cry
Still sitting, still waiting, still staring at that door
But finally knowing no one will come for me forever more
P.S: my friend said that this sounds like Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven but I have never read it, so do not say I copied it.
Hi, ArtsyGirl38. This is a nice start to a poem, but you might want to expand on it a bit. Try and flesh out the narrator a bit and give more concrete details. Use T.S. Elliot's notion of the Objective Correlative, which is where you use concrete information (physical details like sights and sounds and tastes and such) to help convey the narrator's emotional state. The thing with the door is nice, though. I also like the description of the "small bleak frame" at the end. Hope what I've said is helpful to you. Feel free to disregard anything I've said that doesn't work for you. It's your poem, after all.
Here's an example on the use of Objective Correlative in poetry. This is Ezra Pound's translation of Li Po's ancient Chinese Poem, "The River Merchant's Wife". Not once is the world "love" used, but that's the emotion that comes through.
BY EZRA POUND
After Li Po
While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead
I played about the front gate, pulling flowers.
You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse,
You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums.
And we went on living in the village of Chokan:
Two small people, without dislike or suspicion.
At fourteen I married My Lord you.
I never laughed, being bashful.
Lowering my head, I looked at the wall.
Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back.
At fifteen I stopped scowling,
I desired my dust to be mingled with yours
Forever and forever, and forever.
Why should I climb the look out?
At sixteen you departed
You went into far Ku-to-en, by the river of swirling eddies,
And you have been gone five months.
The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead.
You dragged your feet when you went out.
By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses,
Too deep to clear them away!
The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind.
The paired butterflies are already yellow with August
Over the grass in the West garden;
They hurt me.
I grow older.
If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang,
Please let me know beforehand,
And I will come out to meet you
As far as Cho-fu-Sa.
I see your point, I'm just starting out and this could help me quite a bit! Thanks! :)
Best of luck to you!
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Star for a candle, moon for a mate
Stars are great drops / Of golden dew
Five billion miles away, a galaxy dies
So near you are, summer stars, / so near, strumming, strumming,
rich milk of stars, ripe fruit of stars,
a lightning bug / looking for all the world / like a hot spark / freshly struck / from the flint / of a single bright star
This is a school project and none of these words are mine. The project is to use lines from different poems and poets and use them in a new poem following a specific theme and mine is night. I’m having trouble coming up with an original title though, so suggestions are accepted.
Where the Sidewalk Ends
Skater of Ghost Lake
Flying at Night
On the Neosho
Harlem Night Dance
Cycle of Seasons
And when snow falls plants disappear before our eyes
But when the melt comes plants spring up once again
Yet even under the sun winter still thrives
But an animal will still come out from it’s den
Yet the sun grows hotter by every day
Without a thought of dismay
Leaves turn colors and fall to the ground
We all prance and dance around
Yet under the sun winter still thrives
I found this when I was poking around some old stuff, hope you enjoy!
This is called a repetitive poem and follows an ABAB rhyme scheme and follows the formula
1234 2546 7869 5(10)91
I made a mistake. The formula is 1234 2546 7869 5391
You can edit a message until someone replies with the "edit" button next to the "reply" button. Ironically your correction message edit-locked this one...
You have a real talent for writing in fixed poetic forms. That's never been a significant ability of my own. I've always stuck with Free Verse. What you do requires a lot of discipline.
I will take that as a compliment. XP
It was meant as such.
Here, ArtsyGirl38. This is one of my poems. I posted it here about a year ago. It's about Edie Sedgewick, Andy Wharhol's first superstar, who died of a drug overdose in 1971-- the year I was born.
by Thomas La Homme
1. Objective Desire
Down a steel shaft,
cold and hollow,
Into the euphoric sea-spill
A radiance to white out
The Big Sadness.
And the bassy backbeat
that moves her
is the pounding,
of a velveteen underground
Where the undead dance
With chalky complexions
like blackened craters.
Her mascaraed face pale
as a sarcophagus mask:
Arctic beautiful in an expression of wanting,
Her stare crosses the void
and steel spaces
And vacant byways
of skyscraper canyons
And asphalt paths
that web out to all
Twirl of speed-cocaine-amphetamine
Till all the old foundations
And fly spaceward into infinity,
leaving a smoldering molten core
Of 15 minute celebrity
--mass-produced with silk-screened
Their only differentiation:
Abstracted smears of paint.
Abstracted stare under paint
That probes the endless nothing all
Her loved ones have fallen into:
One poor brother from the end of a noosed cord of hemp,
One poor brother from the metal cocoon of motorcycle wreckage,
One poor father (deviled deity)
from the incestuous embrace of
Her light shadows
And her lids close
Like fleshy final curtains.
2. Subjective Entire
Opening my eyes to a new day,
I’m one day farther
removed from the day
You failed to say
We shared one year
(From the winter to the fall)
In that first-to-last time.
And I came to know you
Through the Factory films
Andy and the others
Caught your spirit in
Like celluloid amber.
And a jarred soul is still
A soul, though never
Free from consuming eyes.
And your stare across the dead
Decades holds mine
And there is a symbiotic synergy
That merges our mouths
In the in-between
I will not let you die,
You shall always live in me,
Ms. Tragic Iconic.
I will not let you die.
I shall always hold you
In the warmth of my spirit.
And like you,
I have known the Big Sadness.
I have known the loss of love.
I have known the drug-deadened
Sedation of flesh-boned waking terrors
And the come-down into night-reality.
And I shall live
So you may live in me.
To meet you again
In the euphoric sea-spill
You shall always live
And our mutual tragedies
Are the lifeline that enwraps
Us and holds us together
And though you failed
To say goodbye,
I shall count the hours
Till the in-between
I just love the use of spacing, really. Even though at first it seems random, all with the use of spacing, there's very deep form of rhythm and structure present. How do you do it? Did you specially think that only a single word here with a pause would look good, or is there some other way you can decide where exactly to stop and start for making this rhythm?
Thanks. That's a good question. I'm not sure. I'm not saying I do it instinctively, but I think it's based on the cadence of how I would say it. I always like there to be some kind of rhythmic elements in my poems. I like using alliteration a lot, mostly because I have trouble hearing meter. I realize spacing will effect the rhythm too. I often use that to speed up or slow down the tempo.
I was taken away with wonder as I read this, you have a true gift of poetry. Also you shouldn’t give away personal information such your age, because you mentioned you were born in 1971.
Thanks, ArtsyGirl38. I'm glad you liked it. As for personal information, my age is my age. I'm fine with it. I look better preserved than a lot of guys in their late 40's. Chalk it up to a life of not smoking or drinking, but instead wearing sunblock every day and walking everwhere.
I see very few poems with the pyrrhic and spondee meter used, so nice attempt here. Meter is followed mostly throughout the poem, but at a few places it kinda goes a bit awry. A little bit more refinement here and I'm sure it'll sound even better. When writing structured poetry, try and keep a stanza uniform, like make each stanza a part of a human being. It should have eyes, hands and legs of the same shape, size and color. You've obviously followed the couplet scheme properly, but at times the meter is kinda peculiarly attempted.
Like for example,
"Yet the sun grows hotter by every day
We all prance and dance around"
So the first two lines follow the stressed, unstressed, stressed syllables; but then the next two kinda just become random. This has happened in all the stanzas, the first two lines are in flow, but the next two completely break the rhythm...
Maybe something like,
"Yet the sun grows hotter by every day,
Leaves turn colors and fall to the ground,
And having no thoughts of dis-a-may,
Dancing, prancing, we proceed to do around.
Notice here how I made dismay a compound word by adding "a" all in order to match the meter. Also I used an "inversion" figure of speech in the next to line, to again match the meter and also to add a bit more flair to the poem in general. Which is a point I'll get to next.
Okay, so you've got good meter and structure ready for a poem, but I kinda personally feel that it isn't used to its full potential. Most lines sound a little bit "off" and there are a lot of instances where you could've done more imagery. Your poem is after all on nature, a theme that kinda demands that visual experience. Try and add more "flair" to the poem, use more figures of speech like metaphors and taughtologies, and use more creative lines.
For eg. I'll take your first stanza...
"And when snow falls plants disappear before our eyes
But an animal will still come out from it’s den"
And when the white dust blankets our eyes, (figures of speech used: transferred epithet, and personification)
But then the rays of life come once again,(oxymoron)
Yet as stubborn as a mule, the frost thrives,(simile, personification)
But an animal, still emerged from its den. (No change.)
One more thing, you might not think about this at first but, punctuation even in poems is extremely essential. It has a lot of uses, from correcting meter, to stabilizing flow and rhythm. A poem is like a river, you don't its flow to flood so you build dams, or commas and semicolons to restrict the flow where required.
I happened to have composed a poem on similar grounds like yours, actually.
"Seasons"(A Spencerian sonnet, it follows the iambic pentameter, and scheme of ABAB CDCD EFEF GG)
"Seeping through the welkin, radiant sunshine,
Pouring from the heavens, like a silvering waterfall,
Passing through the sill, into the house mine,
Causing me the wonder, of nature and fall;
Painful striking wind, like a tornado threatening all,
The world all around, golden, beautiful, scenic,
But then came down snow, a blanket covering all.
Mother Nature caring, for a child who was sick.
Snow and ice all around, as hard as a brick,
But then rose up Sun, as mighty as a king,
Rays of life and healing, melting the snow thick,
Joy and allurance galore, as came forth spring.
I waver back to reality, through sheer fortitude,
All I have in this wasteland, is the bliss of solitude."
Also if you want to make more poetry/ review poetry you might want to take part in the poetry prompts that I regularly put up on the site...speaking of, I should probably get my lazy ass to go and review them. Oh and don't worry about the "weekly" word in it. There's virtually no time limit so feel free to upload new poems. I actually need help in reviewing the poems there, so I would be glad of you, or anyone else could help me out in reviewing.
Link to the most recent prompt, you can find older ones too.
To clarify, a Spenserian sonnet (note the spelling) is ABAB BCBC CDCD EE.
Ah my bad, lol. Thanks for pointing it out.
"Having no thoughts of dismay" (no extra syllable) seems stronger to me than "Without a thought of dismay," but "Dancing, prancing, we proceed to do around" seems incredibly akward.
Likewise, I like "when the rays of life" come better than "plants spring up," but "stubborn as a mule, the frost thrives" sounds like a mixed metaphor (we don't really think of stubborn people as "thriving" vs. "surviving," and "still emerges" is a strange phrase.
While strict attention to meter or to syllable count and stress can be an asset, it's better to err on the side of expressing a feeling if the alternative is to force the phrasing.
I kind of agree on that part, it really is more important to get the message across rather than strictly follow meter. Following meter at the cost of the feeling of the poem is not good.
If I read this 2 1/2 years ago (when I wrote it), I would be offended, but today, I think that this will be a major step into my poetry writing skills. Also, the stubborn as a mule thing was hilarious
Looking up on a Summer Night
There does seem to be an underlying theme throughout of what is far away becoming metaphorically near. Moonlight carrying the moon to the watcher, Starlight dropping as dew, the impossibly distant cosmos resonating as music, and the firefly mimicking starlight close at hand.
So I would recommend a title that plays off that. I Hold the Stars, The Distance Crossed, The Stars in Me, I am Stardust, Gift From Afar, The Stars at Hand, The Night Road, etc.
I really like “Stars at Hand” I think I will use it!
I think the only relation to "the raven" is the "forever more", but it's not like you ripped off the poem (the poem used the phase "never more" a lot), so I wouldn't worry about that. I liked it! Seems like you already got good feedback, so I'll just mention that I like to keep my lines short when possible so the poem flows better (unless you are going for a specific length or syllable count). All that means is I would do things like remove "have to" in the second line. This doesn't change the meaning much, just makes the second line shorter. To me that flows better, but as the poet you get to decide what fits better. Similarly I would remove "always" from the 6th line. I think it is more ominous without the "always": "And I know I will not last".
I like the poem, it's sad and dark, but it is well done. I think it comments on a very common fear: our fear that no one actually cares for us. We all want someone to walk though the door without us having to reach out to them first. Well done!
Wow! Thank you so much!
'Tis the season for
The crisp, golden harvest and
warm apple cider
When Pandora opened her box,
We never would have thought
That life could get so much worse
And that we needed many more a hearse
“Blame Pandora!” the gods would say.
“She opened the box on that day!”
“But who put the spirits in there?” We would ask.
“You of course, you treacherous souls. You sent us to the axe.”
The gods were trialed guilty
And they said we were filthy
But after consulting the pope
He said “Give them Hope!”
And so they did
I like this. Some of it is awkward, such as the fourth line ending in hearse, but the general flow and rhyming scheme is well done. I did notice that the first two lines didn't rhyme... was that intentional? Or was it just hard to find a rhyme? Because there are options to make that easier (like calling it a "Jar" or "Urn" which is more accurate to what it would have been in the actual myth).
I also love the ending with the play on the part of the story that Pandora closed the "box" and trapped hope inside! I would almost prefer that last line to make a reference to opening the box again. Something like "And so they opened her box once more". To me that ties in with the begging of the poem and makes it implicit rather than direct, which I think is fun.
Some suggested improvements:
-make the first two lines fit the rhyme scheme, or commit and don't make the first two lines of each stanza rhyme.
- make the 4th line into something more natural sounding... maybe "when we already end up in a hearse" or "when it is already a curse". Make your own line if you don't like mine, I just think it should flow smoother and not feel like it is a broken to make the rhyme work.
- the 8th line is really long and doesn't fit in with the rest of the poem. Maybe consider shortening it? Something like "Of course you treacherous souls sent us the axe"
- the 9th line seems to imply the gods are guilty, but I think you meant to say that they found "us" guilty. Perhaps "The god's trail found us guilty" or "The god's insisted we were guilty"
- the last line doesn't fit the structure you set up for the rest of the poem, which I think is okay here, but I also think that something like a couplet would fit better. You also might want to break this off from the third stanza. I am not sure any of this will actually make the poem better, it is just what I would do.
I didn’t mean for humans to be guilty, because Pandora was created by the gods, and with the jar or urn thing, while it is closer to the myth than box, but Pandora's Box sounds a lot better than Pandora's jar or urn
Box works as it is the modern description, I was just suggesting alternatives to help make a rhyme if needed. I find there are limited options rhyming with "box" off the top of my head. Also, you might just want to touch up the last few lines then. I got the impression that you meant for the gods to be blaming the humans, in reality, it sounds like you meant to imply the humans to be condemning the gods. This case could also make the pope reference make more sense. If it is clear that humans are turning away from the gods, the logical historical assumption is that they might convert to Christianity. It just needs to be clear who is on trial, and who is conducting the trial.
This is promising. I do think that where the rhyms don't work you should probably disregard the rhym scheme and use other poetic techniques. But the rhym scheme does work in places. It is interesting you have a Pope for Greek gods. Definitely work on this some more because it has a lot of potential.
Ahh true I didn't even catch that.
This could be good though since you can delete the line about the Pope, have a "priest" or "seer" or something shout "give us hope", and have the ending for the rhyme scheme by rhyming with "hope."
Set and Rise
The golden sun in the sky
Hues of colors floating about
Twilight stars twinkle bright
Darkness envelops the land
The Moon is rising with its silver sheen
Mother Bear and her little cub dance the dusk
North Star shining bright
Above the treetops galore
A pinprick or light begins to rise
The stars flee from their roost
The morning bird sings her song
The rise of the sun, the beings of tomorrow
This is my first ever poem without an attempted rhyme scheme, ENJOY!
I really like the line "Mother Bear and her little cub dance the dusk." Nice use of alliteration. Also nice reference to the constellation s of Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. I probably would have used another descripter for the mulitude of trees than galore. I do find the line "The rise of the sun, the beings of tomorrow" to be intriguing in its mystery. I like "The morning bird sings her song"; it's very Walt Whitman. You might want to add a few more nature sounds. Maybe reference the morning star and the evening star. Very nice attempt at a poem with no rhyme scheme.
Five words: You. Have. Made. My. Day.
Thanks. I hope my suggestions are helpful for you. :)
Very nice! I like the descriptive passage of time. You did use bright a couple times (stars twinkle bright, north star shines bright) so you could try a different descriptor for the north star, perhaps - maybe something to do with it's guidance or pointing the way or staying constant.
I agree 'galore' is a bit jarring here. Perhaps "Above the canopy of trees" or "Over the whispering forest" or something else that hints there are a lot of trees.
I like canopy of trees, thanks!
And so fast and so radiant
Oh, its colors, infinite and bright
And with water comes a rainbow
Oh, how beautiful is light?
And rich reds to deep violets and blues
Oh, the loveliness that we wish to hold tight
And the indescribable feeling that it gives
Oh, how hard it is to write
Poetry about light!
Tried to go for a bit of humor for once (read Alone if you don’t get what I mean)
I think it is strange that the first word of the entire poem is "And". It makes it feel like there was a line above that was missed when you posted it. There is a lot of repitition, but I get the feeling that you intended to do that so the lines alternated starting with "and" and "oh". I am afraid this is lost on me.
It was both intentional and an accident. I had done “Oh, how beautiful is light?” and “Oh, the loveliness we wish to hold tight” and I was struck by inspiration, the same thing also append with the “ands”
I see, repitition is not a bad thing in poetry. It can create a flow, feeling, or message. Here it seems to be more for the flow of the poem, but I am not sure I love it. It works, I just think it feels more like a run on sentence with those particular words; however, if you are going to comedy that can work in your favor! Like a comedian who intentionally talks with a lisp.
So fast and so radiant
Very nice. I actually liked how the original version began with the word "and". It kind of implied the constant motion of light itself. But I leave it to you to decide word choice. I like the line "Oh, the loveliness that we wish to hold tight". When you talk of the indescribable feeling that it gives which makes it hard to write, you could tie that in with the notion of wanting to hold something that cannot be held-- well, physicists have found a way to stop light in its tracks, but that's another story.
I once found a lucky charm
Which looked like it could do no harm
I brought it home to take a look
But then I realized I forgot my book
Then the queerest thing happened
It just flew in my lap and
Started to read itself!
Then to my side, there was an elf
Who started tippity tapping all over my desk
I told him to stop being such a pest
“Why? You summoned me, right?” He said
“You used that Lucky Charm, sitting on your bed.”
I glanced at it, and I thought,
“Somehow I must make this mayhem stop!”
So I took the charm and threw it out the window
Then all of a sudden my room seemed to glow
Then there was no more tippity tapping
And my book stopped flapping
No more mayhem around,
And on the ground,
Lay that lucky charm
That shouldn’t have caused any harm
After a quick read there were two rhymes this looked like they needed work:
- happened, and - I think there do actually rhyme, but the lines felt strange to me. I don't have a better suggestion or a good explanation here, it just "feels" off to me. I can't decide if it is because the line ends with "and" so it feel like it was broken in a strange place, or if the actually rhyme feels strange... it is fine as is, but consider revising if you come up with something else here.
- desk, pest - these don't rhyme. You can kind of get a slant rhyme going if you pronounce "pest" more like "pesk", but I think there are better ways to rhyme here. Perhaps you have a test on the desk, test and pest rhyme. You could describe the elf or tapping as "grotesque" which rhymes with desk. I feel like there is an opportunity to really improve this one here.
Once I had some Honey Smacks
They fell and stained my flannel slacks
the milk was only one percent
I threw my bowl, it made a dent.
"I told you that I drink just whole,
I don't put skimmed milk in my bowl,
I said to buy me Frosted Flakes,
not Honey Smacks, for heaven sakes!"
I roared; I tossed the Smacks like frisbees.
I hate them worse than stale Rice Krispies.
I threatened then that "Smacks get smacks,"
(Just like when she bought Apple Jacks.)
She glanced at me with downcast face
and hastened to clean up the place.
The kitchen is my realm imperial
Kix get kicks, I'm super cereal.
So now you've got me all exhausted.
Go get me flakes, be sure they're frosted.
I’m curious- you've never shown any interest in my chat before you found out that I was MongooseGirl, so why know?
I love it Gower. I am not sure why the one line is in parathensis, I didn't think it needed to be, but very funny poem.
I think it's because of the time perspective. Everything else is either 'in the scene' or about how he will react to things - but that line is an aside about the past.
Ahh that would make sense... I've just never seen them used in poetry
Falling through the night
Little white spots,
Or are they dots?
Matching the stars in the sky
Those snowflakes flying by
Melting now, into the river they go,
The water that was once snow
Not one of your better ones. It's very surface level. Try either going the route of describing the feeling or picture of snow without being so obvious about it, or use the snowflakes as a metaphor for something deeper, or both.
What does a snowflake look like up close?
What happens if you touch one?
What does snow taste like? Feel like?
What can snow represent?
What can frost represent?
What can melting snow represent?
For a quick example, you could turn this into a metaphor of the unique individual joining with the whole to become something greater:
Born from the dust and crystal night
Growing, flickering, into sight
Six arms reaching out to grasp
A wider world she cannot clasp
Twirling on the icy breeze
Winding softly through the trees
Diffuse reflection of the starlight
Dances with sisters in the white
At last she lands on water clear
And trades her ballgown for a tear
No longer beauty set apart
She gladly flows through river's heart
You can be creative in description - and your audience will appreciate you not stating the obvious over and over as well. Also, if you give the poem a larger meaning (And snow has so much potential - grief, new beginnings, etc.) it will elevate the poem overall. Maybe take a bit to study haikus, which usually use symbolism from nature and creative language to evoke a mood and hint at a larger meaning or message.
ArtsyGirl38, this is really amazing! It seems to send a message that we shouldn’t block out people in our lives, but instead welcome and get close with them. You have a gift with words that just probably isn’t fully grown yet. I wouldn’t be surprised if you become a poet for a living, keep up the good work!
Good news! ArtsyGirl38 is back! For those who don’t know what has happened in the past few months, basically I have been “evading” mizal's intent on banning me, but we've patched things up and she has so kindly offered to un-ban ArtsyGirl38, so I'm back! I will be soon updating this with some more poetry, and I am just so excited to be back!
Thrilled to have you back!
So happy for you, ArtsyGirl38! Looking forward to seeing the new stuff you've written.
Clear winter's night
Not a cloud in the sky
But I prayed with all my might
That I would spy
A single little snowflake at the very least
Fluttering down, with its friends soon to come
I watched out my window, 'til the sun rose from the east
Ready to welcome
An army of white
I closed my eyes in despair
When I came to, I saw an odd little light
I rubbed my eyes quickly, but it was really there
A blanket of glimmering white goodness
With a cry of delight, I flung on my furs
I ran outside and I saw nothing less
Than a battalion of children, running as a blur
One beckoned me over
And I happily skipped there
I felt as lucky as a clover
Spending that lovely winter's day with all the snow in the air
I started this after seeing your poem, and even though I know its dogshit, I don’t think I’ll ever finish it if I don’t post it now.
I walk the streets, all alone
I look up at the sky
To where the flash of light shone
To where the white flakes fly
I look down at the floor
Fine white powder fills the space
Could’ve been snow, if it was before
My home used to be a beautiful place
How I wish I could be sure
That the downfall was snow
That the blizzard is pure
But the fact that it’s not is something I know
Friends and family pouring down
I know, without a doubt
That everyone I knew is now on the ground
I’m the only one left in this fallout
I actually really like this, it is deep and meaningful. It reminds me of my poem “Alone”. I'm not the greatest for feedback, but I will say that it is not as you said “dogshit”.
I think it's interesting that the "I" of the poem talks about flinging on furs. What place or time is this set in? I'd be interested in you expanding this poem so we can get a better idea of the setting. I almost think it could be set in Northern Europe of the Middle Ages. Of course, it could actually be set even earlier than that. I think that should probably be one of your points of attack in revising this poem. There are a lot of interesting concrete details you could add to set the scene, many of which might help you develop your ideas even more. The "lucky as a clover" description makes me think this could be Ireland. I like the line: "A blanket of gimmering white goodness." Anyway, this is a good start. I look forward to your later versions of this poem. :)
It really doesn’t have a specific setting, and the “furs” part was only there because there are a lot of words that rhyme with fur.
It's usually a bad sign when one jams in a word just for the sake of a rhyme when it's not the right word for the meaning, especially when the word doesn't actually even rhyme with the intended rhyme word (furs/blur).
When in doubt, you don't have to stick to a rhyme scheme. There are other poetic techniques and traditions you can feel free to try out. Anglo-Saxon poetry didn't use rhyme schemes or meter, but instead relied heavily on alliteration (repetition of hard consonants at the beginning of a word). Here's a passage from a translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. You'll notice that the author only waits to the end to use a rhyming couplet.
This king lay at Camelot nigh on Christmas
with many lovely lords, of leaders the best,
reckoning of the Round Table all the rich brethren,
with right ripe revel and reckless mirth.
There tourneyed tykes by times full many,
jousted full jollily these gentle knights,
then carried to court, their carols to make.
For there the feast was alike full fifteen days,
with all the meat and mirth men could devise:
such clamour and glee glorious to hear,
dear din in the daylight, dancing of nights;
all was happiness high in halls and chambers
with lords and ladies, as liked them all best.
With all that’s well in the world were they together,
the knights best known under the Christ Himself,
and the loveliest ladies that ever life honoured,
and he the comeliest king that the court rules.
For all were fair folk and in their first age
the happiest under heaven,
king noblest in his will;
that it were hard to reckon
so hardy a host on hill.
To be pedantic about it, Anglo-Saxon poetry does use a sort of meter, just not one that we would recognize as meter now without pretty specific training. But the half-lines of Anglo-Saxon poetry do trade in metrical variation. Real Anglo-Saxon poetry alliterates vowels and soft consonants as much as hard consonents.
The excerpt you have there from Gawain is Middle English Anglo-Saxon inspired poetry, and uses a "bob and wheel" style end--an jaunty ABABA rhyme scheme at the end, not a couplet.
(Side note: Interestingly, rhyme wasn't unknown to the Anglo-Saxon poets, they just didn't choose to do it. There's one rhyming poem surviving in the whole OId English corpus. It's called "The Rhyming Poem")
Here's an article on how to write Anglo-Saxon style poetry.
You also can just mix different styles and techniques altogether. That's the beauty of Free Verse. :)
Here's "Chicago" by Carl Sandburg.
BY CARL SANDBURG
Hog Butcher for the World,
Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler;
Stormy, husky, brawling,
City of the Big Shoulders:
They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I have seen your painted women under the gas lamps luring the farm boys.
And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to kill again.
And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the faces of women and children I have seen the marks of wanton hunger.
And having answered so I turn once more to those who sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer and say to them:
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.
Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities;
Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning as a savage pitted against the wilderness,
Building, breaking, rebuilding,
Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with white teeth,
Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young man laughs,
Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has never lost a battle,
Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse, and under his ribs the heart of the people,
Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of Youth, half-naked, sweating, proud to be Hog Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.
I wrote this a couple months ago when I was bored. I tried to make it in iambic pentameter, but I have no idea if I succeeded.
I look at a man: an obvious twink
He catches my gaze and gives me a wink
His smile makes me feel some kind of way
Oh god, I think I might have caught the gay
He takes me on a walk around the park
Then suddenly we're alone, and it's dark
His smile makes me forget it's not day
Oh god, I'm captivated by a gay
He ties me up with a surprising might
And places me in a van that's white
His smile brightens as he drives away
Oh god, I've been abducted by a gay.
While it would be the initial response to dismiss this as some LGBT propaganda more suited to the CoG forums, if one actually pays attention, this piece actually going on about the dangers of such degeneracy.
Now it can't be ignored that the protagonist is indeed a degenerate since he was captivated by "the gay" in the first place, however the predatory homosexual is displayed quite accurately here complete with tying him up and dragging him into his RAPE van. Obviously a common occurrence within such decadent lifestyles.
Anyway whether the author succeeded in getting the iambic pentameter correct or not isn't as important as the message. I'm sure the author was probably molested as a child by a drunk uncle, (perhaps even dressed as a clown) and drew from the experience in order to portray it so accurately.
The poem is perfectly cromulent and the author is a faggot.
I'm here now, time to chant our summoning call
Let the sky darken with edge lords,
Tranny's and the like
Burn all faggots down to ashes
Get them out of our sight
Then let them be reborn
So that they can become one
For this injustice they will destroy
This planet until it's done
Who changed the name, and why?
It’s very obvious if you think about it.
This poem is based on a true story, about my best friend and I being separated.
A bond between two
One that stretches a million miles wide
Together they were one
And none ever intruded
Imagination running amok
Entire fantasies created
Inside their heads
Then one day tragedy reigned
The friends were separated and their lives changed
The fantasies died
For they were both nothing
Without their missing half
Empty they felt
Devoid of light
Black and white appeared
As rainbows vanished
Bleak was their world
Separated they were
Longing for each other
Staring at the wall of separation
Wishing it to fall
But alas, it never did
Inches away, or so it seemed
The others couldn’t understand their mournful looks
Then, came a crack, so thin it could barely be seen
But just enough for the friends to reconvene
Notes written in a flurry, passed to and fro
Castles started rebuilding, the fantasies grew
The colors flew back into their world
As the crack spread and widened
Then one day, the final lurch came
The wall came crumbling down
The friends rejoiced
Hugged each other so
Each promising to never let go
This is officially the longest poem I’ve ever written XD
Good news! Some of my poems are going to be published in a minor magazine of sorts! It will be an e-book if anyone wants to check it out.
Poems being published: