Goal: The goal of this exercise is to gain practice writing
in iambic
pentameter and making end rhymes.
Materials: Open the dictionary and find three words that have
a sound you find appealing. Write these words on a piece of paper and
then begin free associating until you have a group of words or ideas
that you like.
Form: Write a heroic
couplet using some of these words.
Things to Remember: Say each word aloud to get a better feel
for the stress on each syllable. If you need help with finding rhymes
or words with a certain number of syllables visit the RhymeZone.
It's a search engine that lets type in a word to find rhymes, synonyms
etc.
Goal:
The goal of this exercise is to combine the descriptive nature of a
photograph with the dramatic tension inherent in the sonnet.
Materials: Find an old photograph that has some personal meaning
to you. Look at the photo and brainstorm words for your poem by drawing
thought bubbles on the page. When you feel that there is a pattern or
idea emerging, begin writing.
Form: Compose a sonnet using iambic pentameter and either the
Petrarchan rhyme scheme (abbaabba | cdcdcd) or the Shakespearean one
(abab cdcd | efef gg) Put the volta after the eighth line.
Things to remember: There are many ways to express a volta.
You can go from past to present, from broad to specific, from complex
diction to simple words. Be creative. It doesn't have to be a stark
contrast; a subtle shift is often just as effective.
Try to keep within the format, but don't be rigid about meter or rhyme
scheme. It's OK to experiment and play with the form!
Here is an evocative poem by Donald Justice to inspire you. Note that
the rhyme scheme from lines 5-12 is unorthodox and the volta comes late
in the poem. Can you spot it?
My South: On the Porch
There used to be a way the sunlight caught
The cocoons of caterpillars in the pecans.
A boy's shadow would lengthen to a man's
Across the yard then, slowly. And if you thought
Some sleepy god had dreamed it all up—well,
There was my grandfather, Lincoln-tall and solemn,
Tapping his pipe out on a white-flaked column,
Carefully, carefully, as though it were his job.
And we would watch the pipe-stars as they fell.
As for the quiet, the same train always broke it.
Then the great silver watch rose from his pocket.
For us to check the hour, the dark fob
Dangling the watch between us like the moon.
It would be evening soon then, very soon.
by Donald Justice
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