100 Years of Poetry: Re-Reading Reviews by Joel Brouwer

22 August, 2012 § 13 Comments

Joel Brouwer

Joel Brouwer of poetryfoundation.org

Check this out! This is the best review of literature reviews that I’ve read in a long time.

100 Years of Poetry: Re-Reading Reviews by Joel Brouwer.


No Longer Appealing

24 January, 2012 § 2 Comments

Grapefruit Half

From time to time I like to include some of my poetry that I’ve written so that you get a more well-rounded picture of who I am. I entitled this piece “No Longer Appealing,” and wrote it for a contest on Allpoetry.com. The prompt was abandonment and so I took a bit of a divergent view of the subject and wrote from the perspective of a citrus peel. Enjoy!

No Longer Appealing

Left for zest and that at best;
‘twas I who caught your fleeting glance,
but only for the fashion of my impassioned fruit.
For now, discarded, I am left to rot—abandoned.

                                    DLB  01/19/12

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Basics of Meter in Structured Poetry

28 April, 2011 § Leave a comment

English: "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may...

This is an introduction to Meter as it relates to counting syllables as well as a chart you can use while attempting to write highly structured poetry. So enjoy, if something needs explaining please comment and I’ll try to expand on it in any following posts.






Metrical Categories

[Singular / Plural]

Iamb / Iambic                 =        x /
Trochee / Trochaic        =        / x                [Opposite of Iambic]

Anapest / Anapestic      =        x x /
Dactyl / Dactylic             =        / / x             [Opposite of Anapestic]

Unfortunately I’ve only found these useful for categorizing a strict syllable driven poem as you will see in my example. It may work well for Twas the Night Before Christmas,  but rather poorly on something like Herrick’s, To the Virgins to Make Much of Time.             

Metrical Feet

[Meter = Foot, thus, manometer = one foot. The Latin number always precedes how many feet are present.]

1Manometer  =       One Foot      Example:         1 x /

2Dimeter       =        Two Feet      Example:         1 x x /, 2 x /

3Trimeter      =        Three Feet    Example:         1 / x, 2 / x, 3 / x

4Tetrameter   =        Four Feet      Example:         1 / / x, 2 / x, 3 / / x, 4 x /

5Pentameter  =        Five Feet       Example:         1 x x /, 2 / / x, 3 x x /, 4 x /, 5 / / x

6Hexameter   =        Six Feet        Example:         1 x /, 2 x /, 3 x /, 4 / x, 5 / x, 6 / x

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time

ax x/,        d/ / x,           ix /
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,

t/ x,         t/ x,  ax x /
Old time is still a-flying :

t/ x,        t / x,            t/ x,       ix /
And this same flower that smiles to-day

ax x /,          ix /,  ix /
Tomorrow will be dying.

Twas the Night before Christmas [tetrameter]

d//x                  d//x            d//x               d//x
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

d//x          d//x              d//x            d//x
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

axx/               a xx/            axx/             t/x
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

axx/               axx/          axx/                 t/x
In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.

Check out my poetry on Allpoetry.com

Bite the Hand

10 October, 2010 § Leave a comment

In calm serenity,
(embalming lacerations)
I sit and ponder kindness
(oozing the results of my own.)


Autumn in Vermont

4 October, 2010 § Leave a comment

What I wouldn’t give to see the leaves of Lyndon falling,
To hear the geese fly overhead their destination calling.

The sight of Crystal Lake in coolness fresh, it overwhelms me.
In Old Vermont, in Irasburg, that’s where I’d like to be.

The Halls of Danville springing alive, in dance and celebration.
In each home a softer glow of warmth and resignation.

The old farm house in Waterford, with Briar and all the cats,
long walks down the leaf strewn road, the attic filled with bats.

Oh to see the reddening leaves of bustling St.  J,
The house on Costa Avenue, now empty it does lay.

To sit in Boxcar and Caboose and read to hearts content,
or defy the cold, to Carman’s go and try the Chocolate Mint.

I would like to be there sir, but here I am to be,
And someday I will see again the lake at Willoughby.

For now I reminisce; the sights and sounds of autumn’s breeze,
For certain that of Old Vermont in which I am at ease.


Today is the two year anniversary of this poem that I wrote in Pottersville New York. I still feel the same way, Ohio has a harsher autumn than New York or Vermont.

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