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Recently returning to the Pen and reading so many great poems I was inspired to see if I could still write any poem at all. Having nothing I urgently needed to say I looked around the house and randomly picked something to write about. Insanely, I attempted a sonnet but it quickly became apparent my spinning head could not think about meter, rhyme and schemes all at the same time. Milo was kind enough to suggest Blank verse.
Blank Verse:
Lines of iambic pentameter
daDUM daDUM daDUM daDUM daDUM
No rhymes, any amount of lines, just 5 iambs per line:
daDUM daDUM daDUM daDUM daDUM
Great idea! I've noticed some other members mentioning that they have difficulty with meter so I'm hoping some of you will join me in my attempt to relearn this. I'm also hoping that some members with a firm handle on meter will jump in and let us know where we're off. I know I can convince myself I'm hearing it correctly when the rest of the world hears it differently (correctly), so I doubt correcting each other would be effective.
I'm not aiming for brilliance here. The goal is to write 2-20 lines of iambic pentameter about anything as many times as we need to for it to come more easily. I remember it being fun and I'd like that back.
Here's the link to Basic Meter by Leanne
https://www.pigpenpoetry.com/thread-12022.html
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Hey . . . uh . . . where's yours?
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Here goes:
A calico who keeps her feral edge
can't overcome her troubled loner traits;
she fiercely guards the water bowl and growls,
her antisocial habits break the peace.
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Woke up Tomorrow (blank verse)
I woke up yesterday still half-asleep,
believing it the morn of Saturday.
Then, as I started to unbed myself,
recalled last evening’s piquant chili supper
which, being Mexican, hotly pursued
its revolution in my burning guts.
O, what a thing, this nearly having lost
an entire Friday, even one without
a single thing to do except digest.
Non-practicing atheist
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(01-11-2026, 06:04 AM)dukealien Wrote: Woke up Tomorrow (blank verse)
I woke up yesterday still half-asleep,
believing it the morn of Saturday.
Then, as I started to unbed myself,
recalled last evening’s piquant chili supper
which, being Mexican, hotly pursued
its revolution in my burning guts.
O, what a thing, this nearly having lost
an entire Friday, even one without
a single thing to do except digest.
Fun poem, great title. Only place I tripped was
an enTIRE FRIday
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(01-11-2026, 06:20 AM)wasellajam Wrote: (01-11-2026, 06:04 AM)dukealien Wrote: Woke up Tomorrow (blank verse)
I woke up yesterday still half-asleep,
believing it the morn of Saturday.
Then, as I started to unbed myself,
recalled last evening’s piquant chili supper
which, being Mexican, hotly pursued
its revolution in my burning guts.
O, what a thing, this nearly having lost
an entire Friday, even one without
a single thing to do except digest.
Fun poem, great title. Only place I tripped was
an enTIRE FRIday
Surprised! I thought I'd have to defend "hotly" or perhaps "digest" (verb di-GEST, noun DI-gest though the verb is not properly intransitive). To me, it's EN-tire - trying now, I can't think of a spot where I'd say (or read) en-TIRE. Dialect? EN-tire does sound a little carny - "And now the Human Wildfire will consume an EN-tire foot-long hotdog WITH-out taking a breath!"
On yours, I'd substitute a colon for the semicolon and semicolon for the comma... otherwise immaculate.
Non-practicing atheist
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(01-11-2026, 10:07 AM)dukealien Wrote: (01-11-2026, 06:20 AM)wasellajam Wrote: (01-11-2026, 06:04 AM)dukealien Wrote: Woke up Tomorrow (blank verse)
I woke up yesterday still half-asleep,
believing it the morn of Saturday.
Then, as I started to unbed myself,
recalled last evening’s piquant chili supper
which, being Mexican, hotly pursued
its revolution in my burning guts.
O, what a thing, this nearly having lost
an entire Friday, even one without
a single thing to do except digest.
Fun poem, great title. Only place I tripped was
an enTIRE FRIday
Surprised! I thought I'd have to defend "hotly" or perhaps "digest" (verb di-GEST, noun DI-gest though the verb is not properly intransitive). To me, it's EN-tire - trying now, I can't think of a spot where I'd say (or read) en-TIRE. Dialect? EN-tire does sound a little carny - "And now the Human Wildfire will consume an EN-tire foot-long hotdog WITH-out taking a breath!"
On yours, I'd substitute a colon for the semicolon and semicolon for the comma... otherwise immaculate.
ha, I actualled listened to the UK and US pronunciation of entire before I posted because I'm often wrong on these, they both enTIRE. But if you ENtire, your poem. Thanks for checking mine, I'll recheck the punctuation.
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The sky today was full of soggy cloud
(that is not an error; one cloud hung there).
It stretched from east to west and north to south,
from dismal dawn's horizon to grey dusk.
No sunlit beam could pierce its wooly gloom.
It sat with heavy haunches on the air
condensing clammy atmosphere to breath
and threatening snow then ice then rain then snow.
And so I found a warmer light inside
away from bleak midwinter's pallid face.
I blocked the window and my thoughts with books
and whiled away the day in brighter lands.
The Soufflé isn’t the soufflé; the soufflé is the recipe. --Clara
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(01-11-2026, 05:49 AM)wasellajam Wrote: Here goes:
A calico who keeps her feral edge
can't overcome her troubled loner traits;
she fiercely guards the water bowl and growls,
her antisocial habits break the peace.
Perfect blank verse
oh if the puppies want to rabble rouse
or wrestle in the hall, the porch, the pen
it's fine and they can have the couch
but if they thirst a puddle's what they get
(01-11-2026, 06:04 AM)dukealien Wrote: Woke up Tomorrow (blank verse)
I woke up yesterday still half-asleep,
believing it the morn of Saturday.
Then, as I started to unbed myself,
recalled last evening’s piquant chili supper
which, being Mexican, hotly pursued
its revolution in my burning guts.
O, what a thing, this nearly having lost
an entire Friday, even one without
a single thing to do except digest.
L5 on "hotly" wants to promote the "ly" which trips me up. Part of the problem ends up being the feminine ending on "supper" and the fungibility of "which"
an entire Friday I read as the classic pyrrhic/spondee sub
dada DUMDUM daDUM daDUM daDUM
(01-12-2026, 06:52 AM)milo Wrote: (01-11-2026, 05:49 AM)wasellajam Wrote: Here goes:
A calico who keeps her feral edge
can't overcome her troubled loner traits;
she fiercely guards the water bowl and growls,
her antisocial habits break the peace.
Perfect blank verse
oh if the puppies want to rabble rouse
or wrestle in the hall, the porch, the pen
it's fine and they can have the couch
but if they thirst a puddle's what they get
(01-11-2026, 06:04 AM)dukealien Wrote: Woke up Tomorrow (blank verse)
I woke up yesterday still half-asleep,
believing it the morn of Saturday.
Then, as I started to unbed myself,
recalled last evening’s piquant chili supper
which, being Mexican, hotly pursued
its revolution in my burning guts.
O, what a thing, this nearly having lost
an entire Friday, even one without
a single thing to do except digest.
L5 on "hotly" wants to promote the "ly" which trips me up. Part of the problem ends up being the feminine ending on "supper" and the fungibility of "which"
an entire Friday I read as the classic pyrrhic/spondee sub
dada DUMDUM daDUM daDUM daDUM
you think a tie is something to be treasured
the missus wants you in your Sunday best
for that is what she mentioned when you asked her
what she thought to do for Sunday's dinner
so in your tie and double breasted-black
you head to meet her at the restaurant
but Gastroenterology aside
the Mexican's not hot when she wants Thai
(01-11-2026, 01:42 PM)Quixilated Wrote: The sky today was full of soggy cloud
(that is not an error; one cloud hung there).
It stretched from east to west and north to south,
from dismal dawn's horizon to grey dusk.
No sunlit beam could pierce its wooly gloom.
It sat with heavy haunches on the air
condensing clammy atmosphere to breath
and threatening snow then ice then rain then snow.
And so I found a warmer light inside
away from bleak midwinter's pallid face.
I blocked the window and my thoughts with books
and whiled away the day in brighter lands.
Mostly pretty good, goes a little wonky to my ear on L2 but recovers nicely.
I like the pyrrhic/spondee sub on L4
A day inside with books while nature moans
and spatters all the roads with slush and ice
the wind can't bite your fingers wrapped inside
and blanket nestled cozy by the fire
neighbors armed with shovels, brooms and scrapers
attack their driveways, hoping to repair
the surface for a miserable commute -
you're snuggled tight with blanket, book and wine
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More cats, sorry
Last call at the Sunset Grill
Abandoned tabby siblings frolicked loose
along the river, begging tavern scraps.
The waitress popped up with a cardboard box,
to our surprise both willing abductees
just curled themselves together for a nap.
Serenity named Mister Bond for Gramps,
her older sister Harm named Jasper next.
Arriving home they quickly settled in,
displaying manic teenaged energy;
they zoom and skid across the kitchen floor,
the entry rug's displaced by sliding paws.
They plot and stalk our timid calico
and barely show respect for our old man,
they hide behind the curtained shower door
to pounce upon an unsuspecting chump.
Our peaceful home is now a raging zoo
with flying cats who land with reckless aim,
our guests are known to duck and shield their heads.
Beware decisions made without a thought.
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My cat, her magic tail becomes a foot.
As she begins to dance: pentameter!
My fucking hand has cat food on its thumb;
The smell of it, like decomposing fish.
Forgot and licked it now it's on my tongue!
I knew one day that it would come to this:
My breath a carbon copy of my cats',
My psyche merged with my feline kin.
all this useless beauty... but what the hell, why not?
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(01-12-2026, 02:50 PM)rayheinrich Wrote: My cat, her magic tail becomes a foot.
As she begins to dance: pentameter!
My fucking hand has cat food on its thumb;
The smell of it, like decomposing fish.
Forgot and licked it now it's on my tongue!
I knew one day that it would come to this:
My breath a carbon copy of my cats',
My psyche merged into my feline kin.
Now I can't get that image off my tongue
(01-12-2026, 11:06 AM)wasellajam Wrote: More cats, sorry
Last call at the Sunset Grill
Abandoned tabby siblings frolicked loose
along the river, begging tavern scraps.
The waitress popped up with a cardboard box,
to our surprise both willing abductees
just curled themselves together for a nap.
Serenity named Mister Bond for Gramps,
her older sister Harm named Jasper next.
Arriving home they quickly settled in,
displaying manic teenaged energy;
they zoom and skid across the kitchen floor,
the entry rug's displaced by sliding paws.
They plot and stalk our timid calico
and barely show respect for our old man,
they hide behind the curtained shower door
to pounce upon an unsuspecting chump.
Our peaceful home is now a raging zoo
with flying cats who land with reckless aim,
our guests are known to duck and shield their heads.
Beware decisions made without a thought.
perfect IP and excellently drawn story
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Thanks for checking it, milo. I had to edit this morning when I realized foreTHOUGHT was acrually FOREthought. What a lovely word gone and didn't take the time to find something better once it was posted. Ah, well, doubt cats everywhere are weeping.
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Luck and Totality
Perhaps it’s lucky your new SUV
was totaled so soon after it arrived
in your garage. A leaping winter buck
it struck rose up and bounded on his way;
the car was not so fortunate, but you
did not lose face to air-bag’s triggered punch.
Could be electric running was to blame:
in hybrid silence impact stunned all three.
You gave that car a name, a christening
of sorts but hadn’t had the time to form
that deep affection long-owned autos gain–
so best forgotten as its parts pass through
used markets, saving others from its fate.
Non-practicing atheist
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I just confessed to the holy conclave
a Pope I'm not even on devine good days.
Smoking drinking chasing the hours we have.
Having issues being picked on by women in mass.
Assigned purpose I'll take a fucking pass.
Figure it out as I tear off this cross.
I'll head to the water and wash my filth off.
I've never understood how the stressed and unstressed syllables work. Did I do this right?
Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.
--mark twain
Bunx
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(01-13-2026, 12:03 PM)Bunx Wrote: I just confessed to the holy conclave
a Pope I'm not even on devine good days.
Smoking drinking chasing the hours we have.
Having issues being picked on by women in mass.
Assigned purpose I'll take a fucking pass.
Figure it out as I tear off this cross.
I'll head to the water and wash my filth off.
I've never understood how the stressed and unstressed syllables work. Did I do this right?
Well, you did provide abundant material for "corrections" and comment, which is one purpose of this thread (right?)
So, yeah, mission accomplished.
To start the ball rolling, syllable count may be a bit high in your l.4.
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(01-13-2026, 11:37 AM)dukealien Wrote: Luck and Totality
Perhaps it’s lucky your new SUV
was totaled so soon after it arrived
in your garage. A leaping winter buck
it struck rose up and bounded on his way;
the car was not so fortunate, but you
did not lose face to air-bag’s triggered punch.
Could be electric running was to blame:
in hybrid silence impact stunned all three.
You gave that car a name, a christening
of sorts but hadn’t had the time to form
that deep affection long-owned autos gain–
so best forgotten as its parts pass through
used markets, saving others from its fate.
Hi! I enjoyed this, the story, word choice and regular meter. The only faint hiccup I had was L12 as. I can say it stressed though it wouldn’t normally be but it’s probably one of those loopholes that’s totally acceptable, I’m no expert
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(01-13-2026, 12:03 PM)Bunx Wrote: I've never understood how the stressed and unstressed syllables work. Did I do this right?
Only stressed syllables work, the other ones are too lazy.
And take comfort, Shakespeare played fast and loose as well.
all this useless beauty... but what the hell, why not?
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(01-13-2026, 12:03 PM)Bunx Wrote: I just confessed to the holy conclave
a Pope I'm not even on devine good days.
Smoking drinking chasing the hours we have.
Having issues being picked on by women in mass.
Assigned purpose I'll take a fucking pass.
Figure it out as I tear off this cross.
I'll head to the water and wash my filth off.
I've never understood how the stressed and unstressed syllables work. Did I do this right?
Hi, Bunx, thanks for taking on a new skill. Start with looking at the first 2 feet of each line, if you get those right it will be easier to make adjustments.
Now, if I'm wrong on these hopefully someone will come along to school us.
i JUST conFESSED
a POPE I'm NOT
SMOKing DRINKing
HAVing ISsues
You can see the first two start with an unstressed syllable filled by a stressed one. The next 2 lines start with a stressed syllable followed by unstressed.
For our purposes the first 2 are correct, the second two are incorrect. It really is worth working on because once that rhythm gets in your head it comes easily, it gets stuck in there. It just came back to me after years of not writing at all. There's an Important Thread in the workshops called Basic Meter by Leanne, I'd bet she explains it more clearly than I do. I sometimes google Pronounce (word I'm questioning). Keep at it, you'll get.
(01-13-2026, 11:05 PM)rayheinrich Wrote: (01-13-2026, 12:03 PM)Bunx Wrote: I've never understood how the stressed and unstressed syllables work. Did I do this right?
Only stressed syllables work, the other ones are too lazy.
And take comfort, Shakespeare played fast and loose as well.
ha, I couldn't pick a Great Poem example because so many loopholes are acceptable, any example just confused the matter.
Here's the link to Basic Meter by Leanne
https://www.pigpenpoetry.com/thread-12022.html
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I'll take a look at the link, haha the stressed and unstressed syllables were the death of me in every poetry class I've taken.
Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.
--mark twain
Bunx
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