Types of Poetry

[BlueJay]

Okay, so I’m starting to explore poetry and the different types. The ones I have discovered, I have loved, but I’m sure that there are plenty more out there.
So this is where you can put every type of poetry. (with an example would be good).
Let me tag a few people to get this going:

@hislittlerose, @daeus, @winter-rose, @jess, @clairec, @kate-flournoy, @rolena-hatfield, @gretald, @ingridrd, @anna-brie, @dragon-snapper, @everyone-else

• This topic was modified 7 years, 7 months ago by BlueJay. Reason: wrong tag

[ClaireC]

Well, instead of saying what type this is, I’m just going to post it and ask what type it is, cause I’m not really sure! ?

Terror

Fires lick,
people scream,
militants kick,
Their cruel eyes gleam.

Another community
comes crashing down.
Children have no security,
there’s havoc in every town.

Iraq and Syria
Fleeing en masse
evil spreading like bacteria,
dry, burning grass.

Official Member of the Certified Club of Aussie Kapeefers

[Greta]

@bluejay
OK. Sorry…I haven’t had time to reply yet. But poetry experimentation is so much fun, so I couldn’t miss out on this topic. 😉
Anyway, sonnets are a lot of fun but pretty hard because of the meter (I’ve only written an “almost sonnet” before). There are two types of sonnets, each containing 14 lines: the English (or Shakespearean sonnet) and the Italian (Petrarchan sonnet). The English sonnet is written in iambic pentameter with a rhyme scheme of ABAB CDCD EFEF GG, and the Italian sonnet is written in iambic pentameter, as well, with the rhyme scheme ABBAABBA CDECDE.
Example of an English sonnet (Shakespeare’s sonnet 1):

From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed’st thy light’s flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content
And, tender churl, makest waste in niggarding.
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee.

…and an Italian sonnet (by John Milton “On His Blindness”):

When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg’d with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
“Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: “God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o’er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.”

I’m actually going to just give you this link to this website because the different poetry types are explained a lot better there. 😉

Oh, and @clairec, to me, that looks like free verse with a rhyme scheme, but I could be wrong. 🙂

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