Type of poetry

Narrative: poem that express tone by story.

Ex:

typhoon

typhoons are not that strong sometimes they behave like critics, passing by an island, saying, hey you are not an island after all, you are just a hill fit for a Bollywood scene I am in that island feeling some itch of its breeze, but i was too busy then climbing one of the narrative trees there and he asks is there such a thing as a narrative tree? i crack the nut and drink the clouds there and he is filled with so much awe, he gets itchy and scratches all the skins and even the bones he rattles like a snake and wants to bite the narrative tree has everything to offer gentle, and soft and conversational but he wants to deny this kind of tree saying there is no such thing as that and this oh my, what a man he is structured in his cage not knowing that he is meant to be free from the shackles of his verse from the narrow alleys of his rhyme goodness, we do not even try grafting the metaphors i love it here this island where i touch him not but he touches me i guess that is envy. Ballad: a musical poem, use to express tone. Ex: Alas the joy, the sorrow, and the scorn, That clothed thy life with hopes and sins and fears, And gave thee stones for bread and tares for corn And plume-plucked gaol-birds for thy starveling peers Till death clipt close their flight with shameful shears; Till shifts came short and loves were hard to hire, When lilt of song nor twitch of twangling wire Could buy thee bread or kisses; when light fame Spurned like a ball and haled through brake and briar, Villon, our sad bad glad mad brother's name! Epic: This type of poem is wrote to celebrate a hero in the past. Ex: Your love taught me to grieve and I have been in need, for centuries a woman to make me grieve for a woman, to cry upon her arms like a sparrow for a woman to gather my pieces like shards of broken crystal Your love has taught me, my lady, the worst habits it has taught me to read my coffee cups thousands of times a night to experiment with alchemy, to visit fortune tellers It has taught me to leave my house to comb the sidewalks and search your face in raindrops and in car lights and to peruse your clothes in the clothes of unknowns and to search for your image even…..even….. even in the posters of advertisements your love has taught me to wander around, for hours searching for a gypsies hair that all gypsies women will envy searching for a face, for a voice which is all the faces and all the voices… Your love entered me…my lady into the cities of sadness and I before you, never entered the cities of sadness I did not know… that tears are the person that a person without sadness is only a shadow of a person… Your love taught me to behave like a boy to draw your face with chalk upon the wall upon the sails of fishermen's boats on the Church bells, on the crucifixes, your love taught me, how love, changes the map of time… Your love taught me, that when I love the earth stops revolving, Your love taught me things that were never accounted for So I read children's fairytales I entered the castles of Jennies and I dreamt that she would marry me the Sultan's daughter those eyes.. clearer than the water of a lagoon those lips… more desirable than the flower of pomegranates and I dreamt that I would kidnap her like a knight and I dreamt that I would give her necklaces of pearl and coral Your love taught me, my lady, what is insanity it taught me…how life may pass without the Sultan's daughter arriving Your love taught me How to love you in all things in a bare winter tree, in dry yellow leaves in the rain, in a tempest, in the smallest cafe, we drank in, in the evenings…our black coffee Your love taught me…to seek refuge to seek refuge in hotels without names in churches without names… in cafes without names… Your love taught me…how the night swells the sadness of strangers It taught me…how to see Beirut as a woman…a tyrant of temptation as a woman, wearing every evening the most beautiful clothing she possesses and sprinkling upon her breasts perfume for the fisherman, and the princes Your love taught me how to cry without crying It taught me how sadness sleeps Like a boy with his feet cut off in the streets of the Rouche and the Hamra Your love taught me to grieve and I have been needing, for centuries a woman to make me grieve for a woman, to cry upon her arms like a sparrow for a woman to gather my pieces like shards of broken crystal Lyric: poem that express tone and could be in music. Ex:  Verse 1: My life has been a story so sad, I never knew what it is I had Until came the time for you to leave. O what will happen to the dreams we weaved? Refrain: I guess it's time to say goodbye. And, oh, how I wish I knew why. Life is indeed a cruel adventure, But I tell you, this I know for sure... Chorus: That one day our paths will cross again, That we will meet in the very end. I'll miss you, oh that I know. But it's time for me to let you go. Verse 2: Without you, the days have all been empty, And how I wish that I be set free From all the pain, all the misery. So I could see tomorrow clearly. Odes: poem that express the thankfulness to someone or some event. Ex:  Thanks to the word that says thanks! Thanks to thanks, word that melts iron and snow! The world is a threatening place until thanks makes the rounds from one pair of lips to another, soft as a bright feather and sweet as a petal of sugar, filling the mouth with its sound or else a mumbled whisper. Life becomes human again: it’s no longer an open window. A bit of brightness strikes into the forest, and we can sing again beneath the leaves. Thanks, you’re the medicine we take to save us from the bite of scorn. Your light brightens the altar of harshness. Or maybe a tapestry known to far distant peoples. Travelers fan out into the wilds, and in the jungle of strangers, merci rings out while the hustling train changes countries, sweeping away borders, then spasibo clinging to pointy volcanoes, to fire and freezing cold, or danke, yes! and gracias, and the world turns into a table: a single word has wiped it clean, plates and glasses gleam, silverware tinkles, and the tablecloth is as broad as a plain. Thank you, thanks, for going out and returning, for rising up and settling down. We know, thanks, that you don’t fill every space- you’re only a word- but where your little petal appears the daggers of pride take cover, and there’s a penny’s worth of smiles.

Free verse: poem that freely be verse, not follow to any pattern.

Ex: However you look at it I can't 

Deny myself the torture
And run the risk that maybe
This is the time it won't hurt.
With the door closed or open I
Can still hear the laughter,
Catch the voice
I'd give anything to hear
In my ear--
Whetstones, whether to cut
Rope or flesh the knife and I
Cannot decide.
And I close my eyes like a melodramatist
Hoping someone pulls the curtain
And bang my head against the wall.
It will not go away.
And he will not leave unless
I want him to stay.

Sonnet: shake spear is the most well known for this type of poem. POem that have 14 lines and express thought or feeling.

Ex: 

I stroll along a fragrant country lane With honeysuckle perfume on the air – And feathered crooner’s warble to revere – Then cross a golden sea of flowing grain In empathy – it seems to sense my pain Of knowing all was done with my affair – Her empty meaning now the solitaire She cast away – betrothment all in vain. But oceans team with many fish to catch So I must up and hoist another sail And seek the one that really waits for me, For soon auspicious breezes will prevail In guiding forth to find a truer match: The one to take my hand as wife to be. Sign: it very important for you to know about all style of poem. So you can define and know what kind of poem is that when you read a poem. As you can do that you must know the different between them.