Best Iambs Poems

The comments we like for dessert 
Are iambs that writers here blurt
But eating foul crunch
That slaughtered lambs munch
Tastes toxic like trumped-up bad dirt...

Continue reading...

Such wondrous beauty held in eyes divine, 
I wish this lovely night would stay, be kind, 
So blissful are her eyes...I need no wine, 
Nothing to match her beauty can I find. 

The morning sun shall take away the night, 
And I shall wait till...

Continue reading...

Today I’d like to talk to you about how meter plays a part in
how we write a poem and sometimes in how we speak

The above lines, which are not at all poetic, are written in a specific 
rhythm, or meter. Go back and read them...

Continue reading...

pure elation
as I embrace you with 
sonnets that kindle the fire
between us

a constant balm that will
hold you tightly in the night
and caress your fears
with a diamante of desire

our heartbeats gradually increase
by iambs to a meter uncharted
unmeasured 
unspoken 

the rhyme and rhythm dance
of death do us...

Continue reading...

I hid in plain sight
Mocked the censors
Defied the preachers
Chuckled
At their ineptitude

Took refuge
In the blank page
Hiding myself
In swirling lines
Dancing
Along the borders
Of truth

Cursed them
In muted metaphor
Defied them
In metered verse
Challenged them
In rebellious rhyme

Laughed as they counted
Syllables and iambs
Punctuated
My verses freedom

For they were frozen
And I a seething cauldron
Of love...

Continue reading...

Mix the meters
Color the cadence
Intermingle the breaks of line
Torture the iambs
Scent the flowers
Tint the edges of sunrise
Mellow the moonbeams
Offer an invitation
A subtle “come hither”
Of mystery
Slowly close the door
As you are drawn
Into inky shadows
Left alone
To fathom
The cut, fit and drape
Of garments
Woven with words
Stitched with secrets


John G....

Continue reading...

Currents
by Michael R. Burch

How can I write and not be true
to the rhythm that wells within?
How can the ocean not be blue,
not buck with the clapboard slap of tide,
the clockwork shock of wave on rock,
the motion creation stirs within?

Originally published by The Lyric. Keywords/Tags: poetry,...

Continue reading...

I prefer my own company
or accompany of a dog.
We do not speak the same language
but we understand each other.
I haven’t an urge, if I could,
to sniff the butts of passerby’s
as he would any passing pooch;
nor is he engrossed in iambs
and inspiration as I am.
yet we...

Continue reading...

Vacuum
by Michael R. Burch

Over hushed quadrants
forever landlocked in snow,
time’s senseless winds blow...

leaving odd relics of lives half-revealed,
if still mostly concealed...
such are the things we are unable to know

that once intrigued us so.

Come then, let us quickly repent
of whatever truths we’d once determined to learn:
for whatever...

Continue reading...

A lim'rick needs to be anapest
or maybe not; for I'll now suggest;
it may talk amphibrach
and thereby walk the walk,
but don't use those iambs or the rest....

Continue reading...

The Demonic Prince

Demons
The legion of demons
They dwell
In the cold place of hell
Tempt thee
The depth of hell's empty
They're here
For it's time to spread fear
Black crows
Come out of the shadows
They mean
They mean to ruin thee
But who
The demon inside you

Split Couplet Variation:

- Iambic monometer
- Iambic trimeter

Rhyme Scheme:

- Coupled...

Continue reading...

ABC of Poetry 

A is for Abcedarian which is what is this poem’s aim 
B is for  Blank Verse which is metered rhyme with scheme

C is for Chant Royal with six stanzas, same refrain
D is for Doidotsu  a funny folk song from Japan
...

Continue reading...

~The Quatern~ 
 (Quatern)


 Quatern is fine French form to write 
 Do it in 4 lines,total of 16
 Similar to the Kyrielle
 And the French Retourne forms you see.

 It has refrain,in each quatrain
 Quatern is fine French form to write 
 All written...

Continue reading...

State of the Art (IV)

These are my "ars poetica" poems about the art and craft of writing poetry. 



Hearthside
by Michael R. Burch

“When you are old and grey and full of sleep...”  — W.  B.  Yeats

For all that we professed of love, we...

Continue reading...

Like most forms coined these days
The “monchielle” relies
On what has passed before:
With but a passing nod
To master’s skill of yore.

Like most forms coined these days
Their rules are rubber reins: 
Iambs described soft-hard
And in naiveté
Their advocates claimed bards.

Like most forms coined these days,
The attention wavers:
Minter’s has...

Continue reading...