Poetry Preview

A poem can be tricky if you don't know how to write one, and there are different poems one can learn in school. I enjoy writing poems and I always believed that my writing was good. As I was growing up, the few times my poems were evaluated, I was told they lacked the meter. I never understood what that meant, but that is because I neglected to find out what the meter had to do with poetry. I would write what I felt was understandable to me or what sounded good.

The following poems are various types Hayden (my son) experimented with during his English literature class. I am thrilled that my son studied writing poetry and that Hayden understands the process well enough to explain them to me. Though he was younger when he wrote these, he could still understand each method of poetry that he read in each of the examples below. Like my grandfather, Hayden studied poetry so he could write a poem properly.

My Grandfather Armando Figueroa would write poems during his off-time from his job as a court interpreter. He understood the many methods to make a poem complete and his notes to his family were beautiful. He was very intelligent and would read books on writing poetry. I believe that between Grandpa Figueroa, my son Hayden, and I writing is in our hearts and soul.

 Here are six examples of classic poem styles

Haiku
The rustic barked trees
Full of rich vibrant colors
Spring has come around

Tanka

Young Derek Jayden

Epic master of his craft
Ties his shoelaces
Mindset on the finish line
Eight Hundred meters begins

Lyric
There once was a big round lady
Who worked in the Navy?
Her weight made her not want to date
Because of the weight, she had to wait
And over that time of waiting,
She had lost some weight
Then she had several dates
And of those dates,
One determined her fate

Limerick
There was a dog named Susie
She was feeling a little woozy
She felt so sick
Because she ate a stick
Poor little old Susie

Free Verse

The rain comes
On the silent streets
It hits the ground
All over the city
On top of rooftops
The rain continues to splash.

Sonnet
Out of the Earth, a bud of life
Deep purple, small and delicate
Free from captivity and strife
Young buds rising intimate
Sweet morning breeze, it smells so great
So red the rose, so red and bright
A figment of beauty to grow and separate
Hypnotizing like a flash of light.
To grow for a while, only to go away
For always in my heart,
To think they won’t stay
They fall apart.
The Death of the Rose
Brings the birth of the bellows.