I would talk in iambic pentameter if it were easier.
quote by Howard Nemerov
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Neater meter for Mr Earley
Neater meter?
I have to write a sonnet in free verse.
I must stick to Iambic pentameter.
A meter that I do not often use.
Pentameter is my more usual style.
A Sapphic meter would be so much worse.
I am more comfortable with the latter.
I find that some odd metres can confuse
a simple rhymester like me for a while.
I’m quite convinced that pentameter
makes my presentations appear neater.
It may be that you think I am obtuse
and that my simple verses make you smile.
You are entitled to your point of view.
Naturally I won’t agree with you!
11-Apr-08
Free verse sonnet
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doe Not Then Inscribe
Pean echoed on Hills, dithyrambic,
for duels on stone red wet ground are paired,
Art thy sword and panoply metred Iambic?
Verses reflect no loves in souls, poetic,
Doe not then inscribe your sentiments aired,
Pean echoed on Hills, dithyrambic.
We shall attend a time corybantic
the duel unchains enslaved wrath where'd
Art thy sword and panoply metred Iambic?
Pentameter exports par'syllabic,
Capital thy right is, thorny and flared,
Pean echoed on Hills, dithyrambic.
Sponde of tears onward a wind frantic,
Happiness and sadness deceived or spared,
Art thy sword and panoply metred Iambic?
Flags tear in gusts of winter gigantic,
an emblem bronzed toasting my mirth, declared,
Pean echoed on Hills, dithyrambic;
Art thy sword and panoply metred Iambic?
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Did You Pass or Fail?
Why is it easier to be arrogant?
Why is it easier to be cruel?
Why is it easier to be evil?
Why is it easier to hurt?
Why is it easier to an asshole?
Why is it easier to victimize?
Why is it easier to abuse?
Why is it easier to use?
Why is it easier to be greedy?
Why is it easier to be selfish?
Why is it easier to be self centered?
Why is it easier to steal?
Why is it easier to manipulate?
Why is it easier to lie?
My thoughts is it is a test to all man kind
Did you pass or fail?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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In Pursuit Of The Sonnet
I cannot write a sonnet; it's too hard
To put such barriers around my brain
And thus I find my efforts often marred
Although I rephrase again and again
I cannot write a sonnet though I try
Through day and night, through winter, into spring
And even though I have no reason why
A ten-syllable line my thoughts won't bring.
But now I wonder just what is so great
About this 'iambic pentameter'?
And am almost resigned that it's my fate
That from the sonnet form I should defer
Yet, having spent so long in search of one
T'would be a shame if it should not be done
poem by SarahJane Platt
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What a Dilemma (a Shakespearean sonnet?)
What a dilemma” exclaimed the poet
“a Shakespearean sonnet I must write.
If I succeeded I would not know it
Or have a clue if I had done it right.”
“Fourteen lines, iambic pentameter…
Of course, a carefully patterned rhyme scheme.”
The idea truly enamored her,
as she prudently pursued this pipe dream.
“First, three quatrains to show complication,
a final couplet to tie up loose ends.”
Sure result was an abomination…
Certain ridicule from all of her friends.
After hours of counting syllables, it
turned into way too much silly bullshit.
poem by Maggie Signaigo
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What a Dilemma
“What a dilemma” exclaimed the poet
“a Shakespearean sonnet I must write.
If I succeeded I would not know it
Or have a clue if I had done it right.”
“Fourteen lines, iambic pentameter…
Of course, a carefully patterned rhyme scheme.”
The idea truly enamored her,
as she prudently pursued this pipe dream.
“First, three quatrains to show complication,
a final couplet to tie up loose ends.”
Sure result was an abomination…
Certain ridicule from all of her friends.
After hours of counting syllables, it
turned into way too much silly bullshit.
poem by Maggie Signaigo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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See Yourself
Its easier to tell a lie than it is to tell the truth
Its easier to kill a fly than it is to turn it loose
Its easier to criticize somebody else
Than to see yourself
Its easier to give a sigh and be like all the rest
Who stand around and crucify you while you do your best
Its easier to see the books upon the shelf
Than to see yourself
Its easier to hurt someone and make them cry
Than it is to dry their eyes
I got tired of fooling around with other peoples lies
Rather Id find someone thats true
Its easier to say you wont than it is to feel you can
Its easier to drag your feet than it is to be a man
Its easier to look at someone eless wealth
Than to see yourself
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In two minds
John William Henry Barthrop wrote.
In iambic pentameter
an amusing suicide note
Stuck it on the water heater.
Which he turned on but left unlit.
Although his intent was to die.
He put no thought in planning it.
It was in fact a hopeless try.
The fool forgot to feed the meter
and very soon the gas ran out.
Fate decides, you cannot cheat her.
So he survives only to doubt
if in fact he really meant it.
He’s still alive though discontented.
05/11/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Fourteen Verses
My passion is to write modern sonnets
Yes indeed modern not traditional.
Iambic pentameter I regret
Is too restrictive and conditional.
I had observed that many years ago.
Expression of thought is more important
Than any well-placed iamb, apropos.
These little songs* are not songs at all; shan’t
Pretend when they're not. Mine are messages
That I compose within fourteen verses:
Some assurances, other presages.
They are my work for better or for worse.
If I fail to convey in fourteen lines
I'd nothing to say and wasted your time.
* Sonnet means little song.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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It is easier to talk about money -- and much easier to talk about sex -- than it is to talk about power. People who have it deny it people who want it do not want to appear to hunger for it and people who engage in its machinations do so secretly.
quote by Rosabeth Moss Kanter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is easier to talk about money -- and much easier to talk about sex -- than it is to talk about power. People who have it deny it people who want it do not want to appear to hunger for it and people who engage in its machinations do so secretly.
quote by Smiley Blanton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mating Mind
So evolution has made the human brain a phallus
A frontal protuberance that is rather callous.
It’s Darwinian lust that turns out these rhymes
For a chance to copulate and have some good times.
To quote a sonnet here and sing a song there,
And to paint a panorama for a procreating pair.
Lines of iambic pentameter are but a farce,
Have no more meaning than a baboon’s red arse.
It’s all in the genes and it’s all in the brain
And love is the demon that drives artists insane.
A picture of a pert breast and a moist massage
The passionate pant from a lingual lavage.
It doesn’t take much to get this member erect
It has bugger all to do with intellect!
Roy Lee 2009.
Inconsistencies
I loathe inconsistenties-
In food, in plans that change on a sudden,
Of people who morph their minds regarding itineraries.
I must be grounded in foregone conclusions
Or anxiety is disquieting: OCD.
I think like a game of Chinese Checkers,
Round and round moving solidly,
A direction premeasured.
So when you give me instructions,
And then they change,
My hair needs pulling.
Thus life is torture, throwing
Curveballs at which I swing and miss.
Another good reason to repudiate rhyme,
The disease of rhyme.
I must write this stuff freely,
Even disregarding iambic pentameter,
Which is inconsistent.
But I emulate Will Shakespeare,
For his tragedy alone
By which I set my watch.
poem by Stan Petrovich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Somme-France 1916, From A 15 Year Olds Perspective
They said welcome to the warzone kid,
Now run along and don't get killed,
War was easier said then done,
With shrapnel flying,
And your best mates dying
War was easier said then done,
We're disadvantaged, The Boche have Hill 60, that very important mound,
I wish i was at home, safe and sound,
War was easier said then done,
The trenches are dirty, cold and wet,
I can't take off my boots, in mud they're set,
War was easier said then done,
You never know if your next breath will be your last,
Use your legs, run and run fast,
War was easier said then done,
I've only been here for about one week,
I'm still alive, so i guess this is a winning streak?
War was easier said then done,
My bayonet is bloody and red,
I'm glad it's him and not me that is dead
War was easier said then done...
poem by Harrison Bishop
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The Death of Poetry
Poetry is dead and God is alive.
I heard these words and began to cry.
Without poetry what would become of me,
Drowning in a sea of Christianity?
Poetry is dead and long let it lie
With its Thee and its Thy and its Thou and its Thine
May we never see another line
Of iambic pentameter with end-stopped rhymes.
Poetry is dead, and so it shall lay,
Mouldering at the pit of its shallow grave.
And no longer will they give a hoot
For the quatrain stanzas or the metered foot!
Poetry is dead at the bottom of the sea
With its anapests, dithyrambs, dactyls and spondees.
And also eight to sixteen lines
On your innermost feelings or the meaning of life.
Poetry is dead but how long will it stay
Before they resurrect it for another day?
Has it not been just a few years time
Since they said it was God who was dead—
-and poetry alive?
poem by Theresa Haffner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Was Easier To Hurt Him
(jerry ragavoy / bert russell)
I should have told him
That I needed him
When I had the chance
And now hes left me
And its all over
Goodbye romance
I should have told him then
Over and over again
That I love him
But, it was easier to hurt him, ooh
It was easier to hurt him, ooh
It was easier to hurt him
Thats what I thought
Was being so smart
The way I cheated him
And mistreated him
How could I forget?
I was so sure that he
Would always trust in me
Oh, that Id take a bet, no, no, no
Hed never say goodbye
But here all alone am i
He is gone now, ahh, cause
It was easier to hurt him
What could I do?
(it was) easier to hurt him
I should have known better
Thats what I thought
Was being so smart, oh, oh
It was easier to hurt him
I need him so bad
(it was) easier to hurt him
What did I do?
(it was) easier to hurt him
I should have known better
(it was) easier to hurt him
I need him so bad
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beyond Infinity
Welcome to my world, take my hand and see.
Come into my world, a world of mystery.
It’s a magical place where dark meets light,
shades of shadow grey, fading into night.
A world where everyone speaks in rhyme,
with laughing and dancing and bending time.
The place where dreams, become reality
and children rule with regal majesty.
Come into my world of tranquility,
where we warp time and stability.
So open your mind as you fantasize
and step in the mirror before your eyes.
A place where laughter is the only rule
and lessons are learned in paradox school.
Author notes
Sonnet
Sonnets are formal poems and consist of 14 lines (3 quatrains and a couplet) , traditionally written in iambic pentameter - that is, in lines ten syllables long, with accents falling on every second syllable.
poem by Amera Andersen
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Sonnet- Which Is Easier?
Which is easier, to shave off your face-hair
Or to maintain a long and flowing beard?
Which is easier, to cycle like a hare,
Or to trudge your way uphill with the herd?
Which is easier, to float the logs downstream,
Or to tusk them one by one to the mill?
Which is easier, to shoot lion in dream,
Or to fight it in its den and to kil1?
Which is easier, to break a whole mountain,
Or to make it crumble into small stones?
Which is easier, to set a lit fountain,
Or to produce a grave of human bones?
Unnatural things are quite easy to do,
Natural ones sometimes, impossible too.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Which is easier?
Which is easier, to shave off your face-hair
Or to maintain a long and flowing beard?
Which is easier, to cycle like a hare,
Or to trudge your way uphill with the herd?
Which is easier, to float the logs downstream,
Or to tusk them one by one to the mill?
Which is easier, to shoot lion in dream,
Or to fight it in its den and to kil1?
Which is easier, to break a whole mountain,
Or to make it crumble into small stones?
Which is easier, to set a lit fountain,
Or to produce a grave of human bones?
Unnatural things are quite easy to do,
Natural ones sometimes, impossible too.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Season's Cornation Day (Italian Sonnet)
Beneath the pale sun's melancholy ray
a tearful empress lays her garland down,
relinquishing her fragrance of renown,
where blossoms left on each abandoned spray
are strewn like flags o'er Coronation Day.
An auburn rival will usurp her crown,
assume her royal throne and queenly gown,
then lead her where awakened vultures play.
The grand procession winds along the square
where nimbly darts a joyous cymbal's flame.
'Yet, Autumn, what is in the urn you bear?
Perchance the ashes of a maid's last prayer
whose grief is now your ornament of shame?
... Such hell you pay for slaying Summer's heir! '
[An Italian sonnet is composed of an octave, rhyming abbaabba, and a sestet, rhyming cdecde or cdcdcd, or in some variant pattern such as cdccdc, but with no closing couplet. A sonnet's meter is iambic pentameter.]
poem by Susan Crowe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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