Vividity

Autumn
A golden sea
Softly falling downward
Flowing gracefully through the air
Alive


This is a cinquain I wrote based around the topic of how lively everything looks in autumn. This cinquain follows the standard 2-4-6-8-2 syllable structure. Similar to the nonet, I really like how the poem ends with two syllables, providing a distinct and precise way of closing the poem, allowing you to sum everything up in one or two words. Also, since this form both starts and ends with two syllables, you can connect the opening and closing lines quite effectively. I decided to set it up so that the first line followed directly by the last line sums up the entire message of the poem (Autumn: Alive), while everything in between acts as imagery and description. There's a metaphor used in line 2 (A golden sea), which describes the mass of yellow and orange leaves that fall in autumn.

Moonlight Reflections

A glassy surface as still as the night

Darkness pierced by a luminous glare

The shine of the moon reflecting so bright

Waters unmoving, a nighttime delight

The glow of the moon so pale, so fair

A glassy surface as still as the night

Magnificent figures bask in the light

Trees hanging over as far as they dare

The shine of the moon reflecting so bright

Above a swan soars, wings spread in its flight

Mist blows across with the grace of a mare

A glassy surface as still as the night

The glow in the sky such a radiant white

So wonderfully calm that's its hard to bear

The shine of the moon reflecting so bright

This scene, this place, what a beautiful sight

Sensations of wonder float through the air

A glassy surface as still as the night

The shine of the moon reflecting so bright

After learning about the Villanelle in class, I was intrigued by its strange form and use of repetition, and decided eventually to give it a go. It took me a while -as I'd anticipated- to get the rhymes working and everything sounding alright, but I think turned out okay. Sort of. Up until this point I had read entire websites filled to the brim with poetry about beaches, the sky, and some other of the usual suspects for nature-themed poetry. But I had this image in my mind of a moon reflecting on a glassy lake, and since I hadn't found anything yet, I decided to run with it and see where it went. On a side note, the image associated with this villanelle in the calendar I had to make using a 3D graphics package and a little image manipulation magic, since I couldn't exactly walk down to the local lake and find the moon reflecting picturesquely off of the perfectly glassy water.

The majority of the poem is imagery, designed to describe this moonlit lakeside scene to the viewer. Obviously, the lines "A glassy surface as still as the night" and "The shine of the moon reflecting so bright" are repeated several times each throughout the course of the poem, as this is part of the definition of a villanelle. There is additional repetition with "So pale, so fair" and "This scene, this place." Each line of the poem consists of roughly ten syllables broken into three groups of three syllables followed by the final rhyming word, and the two lines which are not are designed to be read with an intentional pause so that they maintain the same rhythm as the rest of the poem (this pause happens naturally when you read the poem). There is consonance in the repeated line "A glassy surface as still as the night," which I found helps the line flow better and feel much smoother.

It would be cheating to try and claim I did this intentionally, but the line lengths alternate between getting longer and shorter each stanza, make the poem look a little like ripples in water if you turn your head to the right.

Only Reality

Glistening water, rushing forward

Mist in the air, dew on the leaves

Hard stony surface made slick

Falling drops pattering

A cool, calm breeze stirs

The tranquil scene

A dreamscape

Except

Real


Although I have seen the nonet before, it was thanks to reading the poem Shera wrote for her blog that I was reminded of what a neat form it is and what great things can be done with it. Shera's nonet is, however, miles better than what I managed to spit out, just for the record.


A nonet is the style of poetry where the first line consists of nine lines, the second eight, and so on, until the ninth and final line, which consists of one syllable. I really like the progression this results in, causing the poem to become more and more focused as it goes on, with less description and more meaning and message. In a way, this is similar to the way the opening paragraph to an essay works. Start broad, finish focused. Anyways, I've always found waterfalls and the atmosphere they create to be incredibly striking and unique, and I used this as the inspiration for this poem. In particular, the mist and spray of a waterfall always felt to me a little dreamlike. I started with broad and verbose descriptions, and progressively moved closer towards the deeper and more meaningful description of the scene being what you would expect from a dream, only real. There is alliteration used in line 3 (Hard stony surface made slick) and in line 5 (Cool, calm).

Awaken

Whispering forest

Bright light cast softly upon

The arms of giants


This is a haiku I wrote which describes the majesty of a forest. It was the first poem I had written in a long time, so it indirectly acted as a sort of warm-up to what I would have to write later on in this project. Haiku is a poetic form originating from Japan which follows a 5-7-5 syllable pattern. What I've always liked about this particular form is that you only have a very limited amount of room in which to express your idea, and therefore must choose each word with incredible care. I used personification in line 1 (Whispering forest) and line 3 (The arms of giants), where I likened the sound of a breeze through a forest to whispering, and the massive branches of trees to arms of giants. This helps create a more vivid depiction of the scene I'm trying to portray to the reader. There's assonance at the beginning of line 2 (Bright light), which I used to improve the feel of that line, since with it the line contains the full range of vowels (from I to A to O to U).

Golden Farewell

Golden Farewell is a concrete poem I wrote after watching the sun set on my front porch one evening, and being reminded again of just how beautiful a sunset can be. I decided to challenge myself to write a concrete poem since it was a style I had never tried before, and it looked like it could be fun to write. It did take some time to get the line lengths right and make everything fit into the shape I had in mind, but it worked out in the end. The poem is designed to be in the shape of the setting sun, dipping down towards the horizon as its rays are cast out, basking everything in their light. I chose to mirror the opening of the poem in the closing, both being the subject on which the poem is written. For whatever reason I've always liked the intentional run-on-sentence style of writing poetry, so I used this for the body of the sun. There's alliteration in line 4 (Glorious golden) which I employed to help improve the flow of the poem.

Winter's Air

Bitter biting cold

Swallowed by the whipping wind

Soft snow beneath me

Gently falling flakes, dreamlike

Winter's air, both cruel and kind

I wrote this poem to encapsulate the duality of winter, how it can be both wondrous and bleak, sometimes even both at the same time. I've experienced both ends of this extreme, having both stood atop a ski slope as the snow is just beginning to fall surrounded by a crystal-clear view of the mountains extending for tens of kilometers, and camped in the snow at temperatures as low as -22C with no more that a sleeping bag, a tent, and a lot of socks. The first two lines of this poem describe winter's cruel side, the second two its magical side, and the final line sums everything up. This poem is in the form of a Tanka, a traditional Japanese poetry style which follows a strict syllable structure of 5-7-5-7-7. I've used alliteration in all five lines in order to make the poem sound more fluid when read aloud (and also as a sort of challenge for myself). This can be seen, in line order, with: Bitter, biting; Whipping wind; Soft snow; Falling flakes; and Cruel and Kind.

Memories Of The Beach

We went to the beach to get wind in our hair
to stand on the sand and simply to stare.
To let the surf tickle toes and dampen our clothes
as we played 'run away' 
from the wavelets at play.

We went to the beach to climb on the rocks
find cool shallow pools where we'd take of our socks,
and peer in the waters to see what we might find
that the waves of the sea,
had last left behind.

We went to the beach to find coloured shells
the kind that when placed to our ears
make the sound of the ocean appear,
and gathered rocks that we never would find
in the places we walked,
for most of the time.

We went to the beach and all that, we did find
and the smell of the salt refreshed our tired minds.
I'll never forget the laughter and sounds
and the freedom to run,
on that wet sandy ground.

We went to the beach my family and I
and there we were one,
with the ocean, the beach, and the sky.



-David Taylor




I stumbled across this poem accidentally while doing my usual rounds of the internet, and it stuck out to me so much that I figured I'd use it for the project. The poem vividly describes the experience of a trip to the beach. The poet uses his own sort of style for the poem with a definite yet non-standard structure, and a similar rhyme scheme. The poem contains four similar stanzas followed by a closing fifth, which breaks the pattern set by the original four, a common technique in poetry. It also appears that Taylor broke the last "line" of each stanza into two lines for added effect. There is definite rhyme, but the pattern changes from stanza to stanza. The pattern is aabcc ddefe ghhiji kklml non, if you can call that a pattern at all. The entire poem consists of imagery, as it is after all primarily a descriptive poem. I particularly like the ending, and found that it was very effective, making me do that sit-back-in-my-chair-and-look-up-and-to-the-right-with-my-arms-folded-across-my-chest-and-smile thing.

A Red Flower

Your lips are like a southern lily red,
Wet with the soft rain-kisses of the night,
In which the brown bee buries deep its head,
When still the dawn's a silver sea of light.

Your lips betray the secret of your soul,
The dark delicious essence that is you,
A mystery of life, the flaming goal
I seek through mazy pathways strange and new.

Your lips are the red symbol of a dream,
What visions of warm lilies they impart,
That line the green bank of a fair blue stream,
With butterflies and bees close to each heart!

Brown bees that murmur sounds of music rare,
That softly fall upon the langourous breeze,
Wafting them gently on the quiet air
Among untended avenues of trees.

O were I hovering, a bee, to probe
Deep down within your scented heart, fair flower,
Enfolded by your soft vermilion robe,
Amorous of sweets, for but one perfect hour!

-Claude McKay


 I needed to find a poem that wasn't describing a beach or the sky, so I went for this one, which stood out to me from all the other poems I browsed through. It's written in five fairly standard quatrains each with the also standard abab rhyme scheme. There's loads of imagery used order to convey the beauty of the flower the poet is describing. Personification is used as part of the description throughout the poem, likening a flower to human lips. Alliteration is employed in line 3 (Brown bee buries), line 4 (Silver sea) and line 6 (Dark delicious), as well as in a handful of other places. There are several metaphors used by the author, such as referring to the intricacies of a flower as its "Mazy pathways" (line 8) or as a "Soft vermilion robe" (line 19). All of this helps the poem create a vivid description in the reader's mind and helps the poem flow seamlessly.

Ocean Deep

The tide is swept along the shore
While standing quiet in this place
All the seagulls cry for more
Among the reeds the birds are spaced.

The sun, in crashing waves reflects
Its beauty, shining through the deep
One pure light, without defect
While setting, puts the world to sleep.

With a mighty roar and crash
Casting shells upon the beach
The waves against the rocks are bashed
And gulls fly out of water's reach.

Of the depths no need to fear
Only beauty resides here.

- Rachel Synan 


When I was browsing around for poems online, this one in particular immediately caught my eye. It's a Shakespearean Sonnet, as evidenced by the three quatrains follwed by a rhyming couplet, all in the form ababcdcdefefgg. However, it doesn't use iambic pentameter, which would have been the standard for a Shakespearean Sonnet, and instead uses iambic tetrameter, a meter more commonly found in modern-day rhythmic works. I particularly like the final two lines, which are always the highlight of a Shakespearean Sonnet, as they sum up the entire poem, and if done right, can sometimes send that shiver up your spine. As with most poems that would fall into the "nature" category, this one is rife with imagery, the poem's primary purpose being to paint an image in the readers mind of the ocean. Line 8, depending on how strict your definition of personification is, can be viewed as such. Onomatopoeia is used several times with the word 'crash' in lines 5 and 9.

On a side note, it appears that Rachel Synan is an unestablished poet, possibly only writing poetry as a hobby, and I personally find this poem to be very impressive given that fact.

Sky

Touching horizons
Constantly changing canvas
The fabric of dreams

- Sally Clarke


I personally quite like this poem, and it fits well with my theme. It's evidently a Haiku, the short non-rhyming nature instantly giving it away. Haikus traditionally follow a 3-line non-rhyming structure, each line containing five, seven, and five syllables in that order. They're very different from most other types of poetry, which can lead to some very interesting works. The poet only has a handful of words in which to express their idea, and therefore each word is chosen with meticulous care. In this poem, there is alliteration in line two, with the repetition of the leading 'C' sound. The entire poem is essentially imagery, where the poem is using unique descriptions to create an image in the reader's mind of the sky. Lines two and three also employ metaphors, with line two's referring to the sky as a "constantly changing canvas" and line three's calling the sky "the fabric of dreams."

By the Shore

All night by the shore.

The obscure water, the long white lines of advancing foam, the rustle and thud, the panting sea-breaths, the pungent sea-smell,
The great slow air moving from the distant horizon, the immense mystery of space, and the soft canopy of the clouds!

The swooning thuds go on--the drowse of ocean goes on:
The long inbreaths--the short sharp outbreaths--the silence between.

 

I am a bit of the shore: the waves feed upon me, they come pasturing over me;
I am glad, O waves, that you come pasturing over me.

I am a little arm of the sea: the same tumbling swooning dream goes on--I feel the waves all around me, I spread myself through them.
How delicious! I spread and spread. The waves tumble through and over me--they dash through my face and hair.
The night is dark overhead: I do not see them, but I touch them and hear their gurgling laughter.

 

The play goes on!
The strange expanding indraughts go on!
Suddenly I am the Ocean itself: the great soft wind creeps over my face.
I am in love with the wind--I reach my lips to its kisses.
How delicious! all night and ages and ages long to spread myself to the gliding wind!
But now (and ever) it maddens me with its touch, I arise and whirl in my bed, and sweep my arms madly along the shores.

I am not sure any more which my own particular bit of shore is;
All the bays and inlets know me: I glide along in and out under the sun by the beautiful coast-line;
My hair floats leagues behind me; millions together my children dash against my face;
I hear what they say and am marvellously content.

All night by the shore;
And the sea is a sea of faces.

The long white lines come up--face after face comes and falls past me--
Thud after thud. Is it pain or joy?
Face after face--endless!

I do not know; my sense numbs; a trance is on me--

I am becoming detached!
I am a bit of the shore:
The waves feed upon me, they pasture all over me, my feeling is strangely concentrated at every point where they touch me;
I am glad O waves that you come pasturing over me.

 

I am detached, I disentangle myself from the shore;

I have become free--I float out and mingle with the rest.
The pain, the acute clinging desire, is over--I feel beings like myself all around me, I spread myself through and through them, I am merged in a sea of contact.
Freedom and equality are a fact. Life and joy seem to have begun for me.

The play goes on!
Suddenly I am the great living Ocean itself--the awful Spirit of Immensity creeps over my face.

I am in love with it. All night and ages and ages long and for ever I pour my soul out to it in love.
I spread myself out broader and broader for ever, that I may touch it and be with it everywhere.
There is no end. But ever and anon it maddens me with its touch. I arise and sweep away my bounds.

I know but I do not care any longer which my own particular body is--all conditions and fortunes are mine.
By the ever-beautiful coast-line of human life, by all shores, in all climates and countries, by every secluded nook and inlet,
Under the eye of my beloved Spirit I glide:
O joy! for ever, ever, joy!
I am not hurried--the whole of eternity is mine;
With each one I delay, with each one I dwell--with you I dwell.
The warm breath of each life ascends past me;
I take the thread from the fingers that are weary, and go on with the work;
The secretest thoughts of all are mine, and mine are the secretest thoughts of all.

All night by the shore;
And the fresh air comes blowing with the dawn.
The mystic night fades--but my joy fades not.
I arise and cast a stone into the water (O sea of faces I cast this poem among you)--and turn landward over the rustling beach.

 

- Edward Carpenter 

 

 

The main reason I choose to feature this poem was simply because it uses such an unusual and unique way of describing. The poem appears to be a form of free verse, with no solid rhyme scheme or rhythm, and no set stanza length. The poet instead relies on a somewhat strange but very effective method of telling the story of his night by the shore, and describing vividly to the audience what it was like. Carpenter uses personification all over the place, notably in line 3 (panting sea-breaths), line 7 (sharp inbreaths), line 22 (I reach my lips to its kisses), line 24 (maddens me with its touch), and beginning in line 34 the reference to the 'faces' in the ocean. There is repetition in the "I" statements throughout the poem. There is alliteration used in numerous locations, such as line 7 (short sharp), line 46 (detached, disentangle), and line 69 (delay, dwell, dwell), just to name a few.

Dawn

Dawn blushed; betrayed her waking sky
To gently break another morrow fine.
Night waned – the black receding – highland
Reaching for the early morning wine.

The chorus rendered frantic caws and
Chirps and other avian song,
Mapping out the 'mine and yours, ' and
Goading more to sing along!

Quiescent water – deep of lake –
Reflected out the hazy red, but
Through the glass, a flick, a break:
An urgent tail from hidden bed!

And in the meadow, waking faces
Calmly spread a coloured veil;
The dew disclosing spider laces–
Oft with once a fly’s travail!

Dawn blushed; revealed her inner peace.
She handed on another blissful day.
Night ebbed, relenting to release of
Warming blood that gives to her display.

- Mark R Slaughter


This poem provides a very descriptive rendering of natural majesty of dawn and sunrise. It vividly describes to the reader the image of dawn, and tells of various animals beginning to wake; the world becoming alive again as the sun rises. It follows a fairly standard form of poetry, using four-line stanzas (or quatrains), which rhyme in the form of abcb or abab. It's chock full of poetic devices. Some examples of such are personification in line 1 (dawn blushed), and repetition of this in line 17, followed by even more personification with lines 18 (she handed on) and line 20 (warming blood, if you consider warm blood do be a human characteristic). Almost the entire poem consists of imagery, the second stanza having a particular emphasis on sound as opposed to the others, which focus on sight. There is also a metaphor in line 14 (a coloured veil).
 

Greetings!

Welcome to Lewis' poetry blog. Given that the audience to this site is likely to be quite limited, I see no need for any sort of formal introduction.

I decided to go with "Nature" as the theme for the poetry I will be collecting and creating. It's a universal topic that we are all very familiar with, and one that directly relates to our lives in countless ways and on countless levels. I figured it would give me the most room to express myself when writing, and would allow me to select works that I truly enjoyed, rather than having to pick things just because they fit my category.

All in all, I'm looking forward to seeing where this project will go from here, and what the final result will be.

Lewis