English 10: Literary Terms for Poetry

ENGLISH 10: POETRY PACKET

There are a number of ways to discuss poetry, and there are many ways to approach writing poetry. To aid you in your poetry-writing quest, do use this booklet as a guide. Here is a brief table of contents:

One of the ways to divide poetry is to divide it along stanza lines. The following are the most popular stanza forms:

TYPES OF STANZA:PAGE NUMBER:

COUPLET 1

TERCET 2

QUATRAIN 2

CINQUAIN 3

VILLANELLE 3

TYPES OF POETRY:

HAIKU 3

LIMERICK 4

DRAMATIC 4

CONCRETE 5

FREE VERSE 6

NARRATIVE POETRY 6

ODE [LYRIC POETRY] 7

PARODY 7

SONNET 8

IMAGERY IN POETRY: 8

LITERARY TERMS FOR POETRY:9

POETRY ANALYSIS16

LITERARY TERMS [quiz yourself!]17

Several examples of the most popular stanza types follow:

Couplet: a couplet is a set of two lines in a poem, one right after the other, which expresses an idea and has a set rhythm. An example is:

We Real Cool

The Pool Players.

Seven at the Golden Shovel.

We real cool. We

Left school. We

Lurk late. We

Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We

Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We

Die soon.

--Gwendolyn Brooks

Tercet: a tercet is a group of three lines in a poem, usually with a set rhythm. An example is:

The Waking

1

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.

I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?

I hear my being dance from ear to ear.

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?

God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,

And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?

The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do

To you and me; so take the lively air,

And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.

What falls away is always. And is near.

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

I learn by going where I have to go.

--Theodore Roethke

1

Quatrain: a quatrain is a group of four lines in a poem, usually with a set rhythm. Two examples are:

1

My Papa’s Waltz

The whiskey on your breath

Could make a small boy dizzy;

But I hung on like death:

Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans

Slid from the kitchen shelf;

My mother’s countenance

Would not unfrown itself

The hand that held my wrist

Was battered on one knuckle;

At every step you missed

My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head

With a palm caked hard by dirt,

Then waltzed me off to bed

Still clinging to your shirt.

--Theodore Roethke

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,

Old time is still a-flying;

And this same flower that smiles today

Tomorrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,

The higher he’s a –getting,

The sooner will his race be run,

And nearer he’s to setting.

That age is best which is the first,

When youth and blood are warmer;

But being spent, the worse, and worst

Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,

And, while ye may, go marry;

For, having lost but once your prime,

You may forever tarry.

---Robert Herrick

1

Cinquain: a group of five lines in a poem, usually with a set rhythm.

The Road Not Taken

1

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

--Robert Frost

1

Literary Term Focus: The term “synecdoche” is a form of figurative language in which a more inclusive term is used for a less inclusive term, or vice versa [using the word “crown” to indicate “the king”; using “the main office” to mean “the school principal”]. “The Road Not Taken” uses synecdoche to illustrate the path the narrator takes through the woods; this little journey represents the path of his life.

Villanelle: a villanelle consists of five 3-line stanzas and a final 4-line stanza. There are only two rhyme sounds in the entire work; lines one and three of stanza one are repeated as the third line of the other stanzas.

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

1

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

--Dylan Thomas

1

We can also divide poetry by type, the most popular being:

HAIKU: a lyric form of poetry from Japan, consisting of seventeen syllables, arranged in unrhymed lines of five, seven, and five syllables. The following untitled haiku is written by the Japanese poet Chiyojo in the 1700’s:

Having viewed the moon

I say farewell to this world

With heartfelt blessing.

-- Chiyojo

Limerick: a five-line stanza used in humorous verse; the rhyme scheme is “AABBA.”

A Staid Schizophrenic Named Struther

A staid schizophrenic named Struther,

When told of the death of his brother,

Said: “Yes, I am sad;

It makes me feel bad,

But then, I still have each other.”

--Anonymous

DRAMATIC POETRY: poetry in which one or more characters speak.

a smile to remember

we had goldfish and they circled around and around
in the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes
covering the picture window and
my mother, always smiling, wanting us all
to be happy, told me, "be happy Henry!"
and she was right: it's better to be happy if you

can
but my father continued to beat her and me several times a week while
raging inside his 6-foot-two frame because he couldn't
understand what was attacking him from within.
my mother, poor fish,
wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a
week, telling me to be happy: "Henry, smile!
why don't you ever smile?"

and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the
saddest smile I ever saw
one day the goldfish died, all five of them,
they floated on the water, on their sides, their
eyes still open,
and when my father got home he threw them to the cat

there on the kitchen floor and we watched as my mother
smiled
Charles Bukowski

Concrete Poetry: concrete poetry ispoetry in which the words and the lines form pictures.

You Too? Me Too—Why Not?

Soda Pop

I am look

ing at

theCo

caCola

bottle

which is

green wi

the ridges

just—like

c c c

o o o

l l l

u u u

m m m

n n n

s s s

and on itself it says

COCA-COLA

reg.u.s.pat.off.

exactly like an art pop

statue of that kind of

bottle but not so green

that the juice inside

gives other than the co-

lor it has when i pour

it out in a clear glass

glass on this table top

(it’s making me thirsty

all this winking and

beading of Hippocrene

please let me pause

drinking the fluid in)

ah! It is enticing how each

color is the same

brown in green bottle

brown in uplifted glass

making each utensil on

the table laid a brown

fork in a brown shade

making me long to watch

them harvesting the crop

which makes the deep-aged

rich brown wine of America

that is to say which makes

soda pop

--Robert Hollander

FREE VERSE: free verse poetry has no regular rhythm or line length, and it rarely has rhyme; this form of poetry tries to imitate the rhythms of natural speech.

What I Believe

1

I believe there is no justice,

but that cottongrass and bunchberry

grow on the mountain.

I believe that a scorpion’s sting

will kill a man,

but that his wife will remarry.

I believe that, the older we get,

the weaker the body,

but the stronger the soul.

I believe that if you roll over at night

in an empty bed,

the air consoles you.

I believe that no one is spared

The darkness,

And no one gets all of it.

I believe we all drown eventually

in a sea of our making,

but that the land belongs to someone else.

I believe in destiny.

And I believe in free will.

I believe that, when all

the clocks break,

time goes on without them.

And I believe that whatever

pulls us under,

will do so gently,

so as not to disturb anyone,

so as not to interfere

with what we believe in.

--Michael Blumenthal

1

NARRATIVE: a narrative poem tells a story.

Oranges

1

The first time I walked

With a girl, I was twelve,

Cold, and weighted down

With two oranges in my jacket.

December. Frost cracking

Beneath my steps, my breath

Before me, then gone,

As I walked toward

Her house, the one whose

Porch light burned yellow

Night and day, in any weather.

A dog barked at me, until

She came out pulling

At her gloves, face bright

With rouge. I smiled,

Touched her shoulder, and led

Her down the street, across

A used car lot and a line

Of newly planted trees,

Until we were breathing

Before a drugstore. We

Entered, the tiny bell

Bringing a saleslady

Down a narrow aisle of goods.

I turned to the candies

Tiered like bleachers,

And asked what she wanted—

Light in her eyes, a smile

Starting at the corners

Of her mouth. I fingered

A nickel in my pocket,

And when she lifted a chocolate

That cost a dime,

I didn’t say anything.

I took the nickel from

My pocket, then an orange,

And set them quietly on

The counter. When I looked up,

The lady’s eyes met mine,

And held them, knowing

Very well what it was all

About.

Outside,

A few cars hissing past,

Fog hanging like old

Coats between the trees.

I took my girl’s hand

In mine for two blocks,

Then released it to let

Her unwrap the chocolate.

I peeled my orange

That was so bright against

The gray of December

That, from some distance,

Someone might have thought

I was making a fire in my hands.

--Gary Soto

1

ODE: a lengthy lyric poem on a serious subject [lyric poetry expresses a speaker’s personal thoughts and feelings]

“Ode On a Grecian Urn,” John Keats

1

Thou still unravished bride of quietness!

Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,

Sylvan historian, who canst thus express

A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:

What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape

Of deities or mortals, or of both

In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?

What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?

What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?

What pipes and timbrels? What mad ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard

Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;

Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared,

Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:

Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave

Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;

Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss,

Thou winning near the goal—yet do not grieve;

She cannot fade, thogh thou hast not thy bliss,

Forever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! That cannot shed

Your leaves, nor ever bid the spring adieu;

And, happy melodist, unwearied,

Forever piping songs forever new;

More happy love! More happy, happy love!

Forever warm and still to be enjoyed,

Forever panting and forever young;

All breathing human passion far above,

That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloyed,

A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?

To what green altar, O mysterious priest,

Lead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,

And all her silken flanks with garlands dressed?

What little town by river or sea-shore,

Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,

Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn?

And, little town, thy streets for evermore

Will silent be; and not a soul to tell

Why thou art desolate, can e’er return.

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! With brede

Of marble men and maidens overwrought,

With forest branches and the trodden weed;

Thou, silent form! Dost tease us out of thought

As doth eternity: cold pastoral!

When old age shall this generation waste,

Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe

Than ours, a friend to man, to who thou say’st,

“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,”—that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

--John Keats

1

1

PARODY: the imitation of one poem by another. The first poem cited here is the original; the second parodies the first:

1

This is Just to Say

I have eaten

the plums

that were in the icebox

and which you were probably

saving for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold

--William Carlos Williams

This is Just to Say

I have failed the paper

which you handed in

for your essay

and for which

you were probably

expecting

an A

Please forgive me

it was terrible

so boring

and so dull

--R.K, 1994

1

SONNET: a fourteen-line poem written in iambic pentameter [ten syllables, with each unaccented syllable followed by an accented syllable], with a particular rhyme scheme.

1

Ozymandias

I met a traveler from an antique land

Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert…Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:

And on the pedestal these words appear:

“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.

--Percy Bysshe Shelley

[Sonnet 73]

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweetbirds sang.

In me thou see’st the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west;

Which by and by black night doth take away,

Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the deathbed whereon it must expire,

Consumed with that which it was nourished by.

This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

--William Shakespeare

1

IMAGERY IN POETRY: the sensory impressions generated by a poem are significant; a poem has strong imagery if the use of vivid descriptions or figures of speech to creates a mental image.

The following poems illustrate strong visual imagery, almost like snapshots of individual scenes:

The Red Wheelbarrow In a Station of the Metro

so much depends The apparition of these faces in the crowd;