What Poetry Form Am I?

[eyemaker]

...Take the Test:D (http://quiz.ravenblack.net/poeticform.pl)

----------

[pussnboots]

I'm a BLANK VERSE

I am, of course, none other than blank verse.
I don't know where I'm going, yes, quite right;
And when I get there (if I ever do)
I might not recognise it. So? Your point?
Why should I have a destination set?
I'm relatively happy as I am,
And wouldn't want to be forever aimed
Towards some future path or special goal.
It's not to do with laziness, as such.
It's just that one the whole I'd rather not
Be bothered - so I drift contentedly;
An underrated way of life, I find.

[Virgil]

I am heroic couplets; most precise
And fond of order. Planned and structured. Nice.
I know, of course, just what I want; I know,
As well, what I will do to make it so.
This doesn't mean that I attempt to shun
Excitement, entertainment, pleasure, fun;
But they must keep their place, like all the rest;
They might be good, but ordered life is best.

[Epistemophile]

I am a verse that is free
which makes it easy for me
to break the rhyme

Whenever I may please
whenever I'm free
and have enough time

I don't know where I'm going
only know where I've been
I'm just too tired of listening
to Led Zeppelin

I'm a bird, that's what I'm
soaring high in the sky
with wings of words
heaven's always nigh

But there are times
when I meet people on my way
they get in my way
writers of epics and all

visionaries all
tragedians all
all of them are prisoners
of formal limitations

But I
am a bird free as a verse
without a thought
without a care
without a desire
of this flight to share

Power of poetry
illuminates life
(that's filled with lies)
chases us relentlessly
before it dies

[Pendragon]

I am the tanka.
The attention of others
Is unnerving, and
Since I try not to draw it,
I'm left alone. Which is good.

[Bitterfly]

I'm terza rima, and I talk and smile.
Where others lock their rhymes and thoughts away
I let mine out, and chatter all the while.

I'm rarely on my own - a wasted day
Is any day that's spent without a friend,
With nothing much to do or hear or say.

I like to be with people, and depend
On company for being entertained;
Which seems a good solution, in the end.

[Haven]

I'm terza rima, and I talk and smile.
Where others lock their rhymes and thoughts away
I let mine out, and chatter all the while.

I'm rarely on my own - a wasted day
Is any day that's spent without a friend,
With nothing much to do or hear or say.

I like to be with people, and depend
On company for being entertained;
Which seems a good solution, in the end

Yep, another terza rima ... or they say possibly limerick :)

[Cellar Door]

I am, of course, none other than blank verse.
I don't know where I'm going, yes, quite right;
And when I get there (if I ever do)
I might not recognise it. So? Your point?
Why should I have a destination set?
I'm relatively happy as I am,
And wouldn't want to be forever aimed
Towards some future path or special goal.
It's not to do with laziness, as such.
It's just that one the whole I'd rather not
Be bothered - so I drift contentedly;
An underrated way of life, I find.

[amalia1985]

I am heroic couplets; most precise
And fond of order. Planned and structured. Nice.
I know, of course, just what I want; I know,
As well, what I will do to make it so.
This doesn't mean that I attempt to shun
Excitement, entertainment, pleasure, fun;
But they must keep their place, like all the rest;
They might be good, but ordered life is best.

[Niamh]

I'm terza rima, and I talk and smile.
Where others lock their rhymes and thoughts away
I let mine out, and chatter all the while.

I'm rarely on my own - a wasted day
Is any day that's spent without a friend,
With nothing much to do or hear or say.

I like to be with people, and depend
On company for being entertained;
Which seems a good solution, in the end.

[qimissung]

I, also am a
terza rima, and 'tis true
that I think in threes

but I protest
that I have nothing
much to say

Although to their
dismay, my friends
say I do chatter all the day

[Tournesol]

I am the tanka.
The attention of others
Is unnerving, and
Since I try not to draw it,
I'm left alone. Which is good



[It's quite eerie...when I write my poems, they actually sound like that!]

[autolycus]

Oh dear... this is what I got.

=====

If they told you I'm mad, then they lied.
I'm odd, but it isn't compulsive.
I'm the triolet, bursting with pride;
If they told you I'm mad, then they lied.
No, it isn't obsessive. Now hide
All the spoons or I might get convulsive.
If they told you I'm mad then they lied.
I'm odd, but it isn't compulsive.

(If you were not a Triolet you would be a Clerihew.)

[SleepyWitch]

I am the sonnet, never quickly thrilled;
Not prone to overstated gushing praise
Nor yet to seething rants and anger, filled
With overstretched opinions to rephrase;
But on the other hand, not fond of fools,
And thus, not fond of people, on the whole;
And holding to the sound and useful rules,
Not those that seek unjustified control.
I'm balanced, measured, sensible (at least,
I think I am, and usually I'm right);
And when more ostentatious types have ceased,
I'm still around, and doing, still, alright.
In short, I'm calm and rational and stable -
Or, well, I am, as much as I am able.

[andave_ya]

I am the tanka.
The attention of others
Is unnerving, and
Since I try not to draw it,
I'm left alone. Which is good.

[Taliesin]

A cywydd llosgyrnog; I'm one.
"A what?" Well, quite. There'd be no fun
In being understood; I
Thrive upon obliquity.
Don't comprehend or follow me,
For mystery's my ally.

[firefangled]

I am the quatrain, quite well used,
but never short of variation,
Italian sonnets, even blues,
and invocation.

Tennyson rhymed me, as I recall,
a way to set the queen a’ dancing.
I saved Parker’s Actress from a fall,
with witty glancing.

I can be male or feminine
with my often so attractive endings,
though Miniver faced his suzerain
with forlorn fendings.

So, I am a Pent or a Tetra crossed,
or a ballad of surviving sailors,
or snowy interlude by Frost,
but always tailored.

[AuntShecky]

The quiz said I was a sonnet, but I don't believe it.
Hence, this little ditty by me:

After A Quiz

The sonnet is such an elegant thing,
created when the poet follows rules.
It’s orchestrated by those born to sing,
and seldom rises from the throats of fools.
The stress, for instance, found in fourteen lines,
depends upon five iambs that must scan.
That rhythm’s how the sonnet so inclines.
I must confess that I don’t think I can
retrain my feet in graceful, ordered ways.
My rhymes are weak as walls in walk-up flats,
Where mice will shoo more swiftly than cliches,
infesting my mind’s attic like old bats.
Instead of bees, mere toys buzz my bonnet –
And that’s why I’m nothing like a sonnet.

[ampoule]

I am heroic couplets; most precise
And fond of order. Planned and structured. Nice.
I know, of course, just what I want; I know,
As well, what I will do to make it so.
This doesn't mean that I attempt to shun
Excitement, entertainment, pleasure, fun;
But they must keep their place, like all the rest;
They might be good, but ordered life is best.

Ha ha. This came as quite a surprise. I am the least orderly person I know.

Fun.

[andave_ya]

The quiz said I was a sonnet, but I don't believe it.
Hence, this little ditty by me:

After A Quiz

The sonnet is such an elegant thing,
created when the poet follows rules.
It’s orchestrated by those born to sing,
and seldom rises from the throats of fools.
The stress, for instance, found in fourteen lines,
depends upon five iambs that must scan.
That rhythm’s how the sonnet so inclines.
I must confess that I don’t think I can
retrain my feet in graceful, ordered ways.
My rhymes are weak as walls in walk-up flats,
Where mice will shoo more swiftly than cliches,
infesting my mind’s attic like old bats.
Instead of bees, mere toys buzz my bonnet –
And that’s why I’m nothing like a sonnet.


haha, that's splendid, Aunt! :)

[firefangled]

This is no time for triolets,
spendthrifts abound and greed is rampant!
Word bargaining is my form’s way,
this is no time for triolets.
I only have two rhymes to play,
they must end full, though some can slant—
this is no time for triolets,
spendthrifts abound and greed is rampant.

[TheFifthElement]

I am, of course, none other than blank verse.
I don't know where I'm going, yes, quite right;
And when I get there (if I ever do)
I might not recognise it. So? Your point?
Why should I have a destination set?
I'm relatively happy as I am,
And wouldn't want to be forever aimed
Towards some future path or special goal.
It's not to do with laziness, as such.
It's just that one the whole I'd rather not
Be bothered - so I drift contentedly;
An underrated way of life, I find.

[symphony]

I know I should be telling you that I'm
A rubai - but perhaps some other time.
It sounds like work, and anyway, it's late -
Unless I sleep, I'll be too tired to rhyme.

Besides, there's plates to clear and cups to clink,
And when that's done I have to sit and think,
Since then it won't be long before I need
To sleep again and eat again and drink.


Noone else is a rubai? :( Only me who just thinks and drinks?!

[Sarasvati21]

I am heroic couplets; most precise
And fond of order. Planned and structured. Nice.
I know, of course, just what I want; I know,
As well, what I will do to make it so.
This doesn't mean that I attempt to shun
Excitement, entertainment, pleasure, fun;
But they must keep their place, like all the rest;
They might be good, but ordered life is best.

[firefangled]

Some people think this form is crude,
often ribald, most certainly rude.
Who protesting it’s filthy,
with a good Limerick still he
will say, that was so funny, dude.

[dramasnot6]

If they told you I'm mad, then they lied.
I'm odd, but it isn't compulsive.
I'm the triolet, bursting with pride;
If they told you I'm mad, then they lied.
No, it isn't obsessive. Now hide
All the spoons or I might get convulsive.
If they told you I'm mad then they lied.
I'm odd, but it isn't compulsive.

[balehead]

I am the descort, and thwart, and long
for discordant, mordant chaos;
See the pretty dissolution,
See the ditty pattern briefly then
Dissolve away
Into a
Newer
Mode of messy disagreeable
(but me-able)
Affray, with lovely spite and hating,
Fights and hurting,
Never abating.
(Quite contrary me.)

-------------
I feel special for being the first one ...

[kostaglatov]

Im the sonnet who sings of crimson rage,
Tis wrath and sheer destruction I invoke.
Take hold my strength . unbolt thy cage,
That thy may loose the hate I dost provoke.
Temper not thy raiséd fist, in pride or shame
But in my fire fashion one of steel.
Let chaos and destruction be thy name.
Nor let my viscious face thy face conceal.
Anger hath simmered in tranquility.
Most hateful rage by decency suppressed,
Show forth thy anger and ability.
The force you hold within none could have guessed.
Compassion and forgiveness both are nice,
But I say, opt for vengence over ice.

[DanielBenoit]

I'm terza rima, and I talk and smile.
Where others lock their rhymes and thoughts away
I let mine out, and chatter all the while.

I'm rarely on my own - a wasted day
Is any day that's spent without a friend,
With nothing much to do or hear or say.

I like to be with people, and depend
On company for being entertained;
Which seems a good solution, in the end.


That was fun :)