Poetry and free-verse thread

[Grim Mortis 106]

This thread is about poetry and free verse so that others may enjoy or give tips on how to make it better.

I like free verse poetry the most, and i would like to think i am pretty good at it soo here is one of mine.

 

Mirriors- 

As i look into the mirrior, the pain becomes clearer as the days come to pass , but as my thoughts and dreams fade away, a voice calls out from the fray, all i can hear is that fear of being forgotten call out of my head, but i soon start to question the manner of direction of that path i decided to walk, i look at my follies, the pain and the worries that i've wrought, the reflection in the mirror which holds a face that is no longer that of my own, it stares back at me looking quite hungry for the blood that has begun to stain my hands, for no other would have chosen this path with all the crimes i've commited, the guilt i aquitted follows me wherever i go, until one day the weight that is my blame becomes to much to bear, i look into the mirror,  the beast is ever more clearer than the day before,but what was once evil now looks like a man much to tired to fight, i looked up to god and asked his forgiveness, but there was none to be had, i lay there weeping until the day that death knocked upon my door, and with one last look into that mirror i knew the time of judgment had come at last.

Edited August 27, 2015 by Grim Mortis

[ashleysummer 5]

He there!

Free verse poems don`t follow the rules, and have no rhyme or rhythm; but they are still an artistic expression. They are sometimes thought to be a modern form of poetry; but, the free verse types of poem have been around for hundreds of years.

Following are examples of free verse poems:

After the Sea-Ship by Walt Whitman 

After the Sea-Ship—after the whistling winds;

After the white-gray sails, taut to their spars and ropes,

Below, a myriad, myriad waves, hastening, lifting up their necks, 

Tending in ceaseless flow toward the track of the ship: 

Waves of the ocean, bubbling and gurgling, blithely prying,

Waves, undulating waves—liquid, uneven, emulous waves,

Toward that whirling current, laughing and buoyant, with curves, 

Where the great Vessel, sailing and tacking, displaced the surface;

 

Fog by Carl Sandburg

The fog comes

on little cat feet.

 

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

 

Free Verse by Robert Graves

I now delight 

In spite 

Of the might 

And the right 

Of classic tradition, 

In writing 

And reciting 

Straight ahead, 

Without let or omission, 

Just any little rhyme

In any little time 

That runs in my head; 

Because, I’ve said, 

My rhymes no longer shall stand arrayed

Like Prussian soldiers on parade

That march, 

Stiff as starch, 

Foot to foot, 

Boot to boot, 

Blade to blade,

Button to button, 

Cheeks and chops and chins like mutton.

No! No! 

My rhymes must go 

Turn ’ee, twist ’ee,

Twinkling, frosty, 

Will-o’-the-wisp-like, misty;