Life Iambic Pentameter Poems | Examples
These Life Iambic Pentameter poems are examples of Iambic Pentameter poems about Life. These are the best examples of Iambic Pentameter Life poems written by international poets.
What gorgeousness is Beauty most treasured,
that breathes life, air, and health into starving lungs,
so ecstasy that's beyond being measured,
make even angels rejoice and speak in tongues?
Nothing is more blissful than passion enjoyed;
and nothing's greater than love supernal,
which inspires joy when two hearts are alloyed,
in union of mind and soul eternal.
Love everlasting and preternatural,
and Beauty incomparable, divine,
transcendent, and utterly ethereal,
transform lovers that join, and intertwine.
To love is beauty, and beauty will not move:
what more could the world need now to know,
than heaven and earth were made from Beauty's love,
and grace, that sanctify with a sacred glow?
When I finish this course called life, I'll die;
and be glad, for no more must I be sad;
for I'll know that I gave it my best try,
my best attempt, my all, all that I had.
Until that time, I'll live and just abide;
have faith and trust in God, give thanks and pray;
remember what it's all for, and besides;
though life brings sorrow, in the end today
is all we have. And if along the way,
I can help make this world a better place
(by tearing down man's hate, though it's cliché),
then the love of God manifests His grace
through me. Nothing else matters to me now,
except loved ones, true friends, and rhythmic verse.
Because of His death, I have made my vow:
my past's long gone, and my future's now no worse!
Wish I, a journal of my days, had kept
from my teen years until the present time;
I'd have a way to view and intercept
each memory by date- a gift sublime.
Be able to flip back on pages bound;
recall those facts my mind, in time erased.
The story of my life would then be found
in written words- in real-time, be based.
A day, a week, a month, a year- review
the felt emotions then expressed each day;
for most of them, long gone or faded, flew
so far beyond what memories convey.
My journal- snapshot of each day that passed-
the good, the bad, and all those in between;
the story of my life, through words, recast-
to let what's known, what's buried, reconvene.
Is wished-for peace on Earth our Xanadu?
A golden dream, mirage- our sky of blue?
An aspiration, wishful thinking to
allow us to envision this as true?
If only we could live in harmony
with peace and love, the center of our goals;
world leaders bear the cross of keeping free
all nations from disastrous wars and tolls.
This dream of peace; perhaps not in your life
or mine- will this grand miracle ensue.
But on, we march- endure the stress and strife,
and pray that peace on Earth someday is true.
Our Xanadu- sweet worldwide peace, fulfilled;
not just a flight of fancy, or lost hope;
but firm reality our leaders build-
in taking down our “war-or-peace” tightrope.
Thou mighty annelid, thou Shai-Halud
of Dune, but on a vastly smaller scale!
The spice that thou produce, that marvelous
sweet tea, grows gardens hardy, hale indeed.
And woe befalls the mite who fails to heed
the rumblings of the earth as thou press on,
consuming bits of all found in thy path,
a broken, fertile ground left in thy wake.
To breach the surface, straining into light,
to frolic in the morning dew and then
to plunge yet deep within the earth again:
such is the eyeless life to which thou were
consigned, ignoble, under foot, and yet
thou art a sturdy tiller toiling on,
without complaint, in hardened, crusty earth,
part of a plan to make all new again.
—————
For the 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Written on 04/23/2022
Written by Gail R DeBole
on April 4, 2022
Updated on December 29, 2022
...Free Verse................
Unless you turn it into Iambic Pentameter.
...a swirling kaleidoscope of colors...........
Unless you only use one color.
...ideas that tickle your fancy.........
Unless your fancy is not ticklish.
...a crowd of people absorbing and releasing the positive.....
Unless the positive is broken.
A little dog is a gift from God
Meant only through life to trod
As a companion to solace our mortal
Frailties through love unconditional.
But loyalty exposes its fatal flaw
When devotion's bonds exceed human law
And penalty is death for an unfailing friend
Whose only sin was a duty to defend.
Hers was love of a kind not easily shared
Yet, fate cast her with one as unprepared
As I to provide the healing balm -
And failing - it is she must meet the calm.
My crying brings her to kiss away the tears
I shed on thought of her end. I live with fears
she consoles as if to forgive
What I must do and can never outlive.
On the eve of euthanasia 2011
PS We found a new home before this was necessary.
there is average Joe Schmo
who seeks no more to know
than he exists
and he goes with the flow of the show
others tell him there’s much more
and he shows them the door
as the nation and it’s politicians
go to war
there is average Joe Schmo
who thinks he’s in the know
and now stands in the middle of the field
wounded and weighed down by woe
wishing and waiting
for a do over
It started with a sniffle one March morn’
When on my car that telltale film appeared
And I knew well this coat it had not worn
For overnight the gleam had disappeared
The grasses and the grains had sprung to life
A tease from leprechauns I do suspect
So thick this film I’d need a carving knife
To find that pristine wax now olive flecked
The wheezing, sneezing found its way to me
As in spring air the pollen count raged strong
Though I’d professed to be allergy free
Friends had predicted this might come along
A strong immune will carry just so far
For late in life hay fever can be born
And not again will I wax my white car
Till fall’s first frost has kissed summer’s last corn
Oh, there are days when I still wonder why
I'm here upon this place we call our Earth.
And, there are days when looking at the sky,
I wonder how or why, or what it's worth
to live each day like yesterday, and then
give in to sleep till dawn, as night demands,
to then awake and find I start again-
the same routines until the day disbands.
But, there are days when it is all worthwhile
to know that just 'to be' is God's great gift;
the question 'why' brings me a little smile-
for only I have answers that can lift
me when I know I've done the best I can,
have taken pleasure in this gift 'to be',
and that's the reason why my life began-
to give and take with love...alive and free!
When I was young, my weekends started with
an after-supper bonus Friday nights—
soft drinks and candy bars. We watched one of
three channels while we relished these delights.
In college, Friday nights meant a reprieve—
a brief one—from those tomes that ruled my day.
Sometimes I dated or went out with friends.
I couldn’t let life be all work-no play!
Career choice is one key to happiness
and satisfaction. I remember great
rewards and challenges throughout the years—
and FRIDAYS. Sometimes I could hardly wait.
Retired, I’m now my grandkids’ driver, cook,
etcetera. I go that extra mile.
I’m not as busy as I used to be;
still, going home on Fridays makes me smile.
entered in Brian Strand's Premiere Contest 140 on April 12, 2018
Christmas Mass
Dear holy child, I celebrate your birth,
and wonder at the bright and shining star,
that leads to all the joy and peace on earth
we all look for, and it is where you are.
And I will light some candles in your name
on Christmas morning, when I'm all alone,
and say a prayer into the burning flame
to thank you for the gift that few had known.
You are my bright and shining star, you know,
throughout my life, in everything I do,
The gift of love is all I have,and so,
I wrap my love in candlelight for you,
Amen.....
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
I often wonder how death will begin
and will there be a warning sign to heed.
Will I feel something way down deep within
Is it the end, no matter what my creed
Of course, it could be just a sudden blow
No time to think or weigh the consequence
of how I lived my life, my deeds to tow
No time for words to come to my defense
Will there be lights or helping hands to see
the smiles of those we love long gone from earth
Or will light be a silent absentee
with only darkness left to judge my worth
No matter how it ends, the seeds are sown
I’m grateful for this life that I have known
11/9/17
Sad Journeyman of Death
Sad journeyman of life’s unending tests
bides time in loathsome sojourn cross each dawn
respecting naught but future’s numbered breaths
a-weep upon the touch of bloodied thorn,
Aroused to madness ‘neath the scent of war
bathes in the fearful prayers as fleeing life
soaks the rusting fields of nevermore
too soon, too soon regaled by drum and fife.
Slowly the agony of youth expires
thrust now upon old roots as unleafed trees
clutch the unspent lies of life’s desires
to live, to age, another day to seize.
Sad journeyman this lonely hypocrite
Death wields his scythe yet doesn’t sharpen it.
10/29/2017
//sonnet//
submitted to – DEATH – Poetry Contest
Invisible though you may be, I see
That look of ever yearning in your eyes
Your voice in utter silence calling me
Your presence always lurking at my side
Resisting you with every breath I take
Defying what I know is destiny
Afraid to close my eyes, I lie awake
As you call out my name, 'Rose Bethany'
Memories of my life, like autumn leaves
Fall down in blazing flames of burnished gold
To lie at the foot of this old oak tree
In every leaf a precious story told
And you my 'Death', who waited oh so long
Finally take me, now that 'Life' is gone