Our community poets have created the following syllabic forms. If you have questions about the form, please click the links to the poet’s post where you can ask questions. <3
English Doha by Reena Saxena: three, four-line stanzas of syllables: 13-11-13-11
Wake up, O woman, patriarchy you must not trust your closest ones have a vested interest I'm yet to meet a man who's truly a feminist they hold on to privilege - though co-exist if it makes you happy, by all means protect your nest just ensure you don't raise a misogynist don't let your actions or mindset become defeatist leave a better world for daughters at the least independent decisions should not cease to exist let them label you a beast or activist you are born to raise a better world, you must desist from raising humans who oppose or resist
Septex by WillowDot21: two seven-line stanzas of syllables: 7-7-7-7-7-7-7, The lines in the stanza do not rhyme, but the lines in the first stanza rhyme with the corresponding line in the second stanza e.g. The first-line stanza one rhymes with line one on stanza two, the second-line stanza one rhymes with second-line stanza two, and so on. (I highlighted a few end rhymes, so you get the idea).
"Refugees" Gently falls the silent snow Covering all the traces Of the plight of the faceless Hidden, easy to forget. The refugee’s plight is plain Unseen crushed under the boot Of those who started this strife Ceaseless they’ve no where to go. Fear written on their faces Children to their sides are pressed Some bring their beloved pets. They look for rest, all in vein. The bombs fall and soldiers loot The remains of their once life.
The Harmony Triptych: by Harmony Kent: A 9 line poem with a syllable count of 3-6-9-12-15-12-9-6-3, and a rhyming pattern of abacdcaba. It is titled and can be written on any theme. For best visual effects, it should be centred.
"Seasons Lost" rain splatters in horizontal wind umbrellas wrong way torn to tatters whatever happened to March winds, April showers May flowers, summer sun, and all things in their proper season for ages, whichever the month, the dark sky glowers clouds race gales as storm batters against nature we’ve sinned it matters
Dark Fib by Trent McDonald: This eight-lined form is based on the Fibonacci numbers (sequence), taking the first eight numbers as so: 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13. The “zero” is to be a symbol or punctuation mark that defines the poem. The next six lines should be about math, science (i.e. here it is space), or technology. The last line is 13, unlucky, so should be a dark statement about love, life, etc., that is something more down to Earth, more human. It just needs to be dark.
"Space & Time" >< time space travel distant worlds rocket to the moon leaving the lonely Earth behind my world dissolves into vacuum when you are not here (Poem #2) ? vast void vacuum infinite can life be out there Earth alone in the universe is this the one oasis or is it the desert
Syllabilite by Veera: This form contains one heptastich and one hexastich. The syllable count is 3-5-7-9-7-5-3 for the heptastich, and 3-5-7-9-7-5 for the hexastich. The rhyme scheme is a-a-b-b-c-d-a-a-a-b-b-e-f.
Poetry, A grand,ageing tree, The growth of which eternal, Branches spread wide from trunk immortal; Flowers bloom bright, fruits turn ripe, Magic of mankind, Poetry. Poetry, A grand,ageing tree Eyed by trivial mortals, Boundless admiration eternal For verses racing along, Uninterrupted.
The 4-11 by Gwen Plano: This form is a stanza of eleven lines, four syllables each line. The beginning line repeats as the last line. (I copied the image from Gwen’s blog).
Inchworm by JulesPaige: A stanza of four lines; syllable count 2,4,6,8 including any number of verses allowed, and include a title. (…with a nod to Danny Kaye singing ‘Inchworm’ written by Frank Loesser).
"Tummy Tickle?" How fast To thoroughly Chew through the fruit of my Tree; I didn’t spy your entry That bite A confused taste Then I looked closer to See… just your other half wiggle Swallowed Too late to spit Now deep down in my gut Double digested now; crab apple Lesson Here is to look Before your teeth chomp true If a surprise isn’t wanted (Poem 2) "Dandelion Hunter" Her dress Rustling cotton In the warm breeze; movement Accents her youthful energy Mommy And Daddy watch How fast will the years fly Until she wears her bridal gown
Special Occasion Syllabic Poetry by Annette Rochelle Aben: The date inspired this form today 3-8 and the fact that it is my sister’s birthday! An eleven-line stanza with a syllable count of 3-8-3-8-3-8-3-8-3-8-3 per line, and a title.
"Budding Life" In the trees Branches are budding at their ends Potential For oh so many lovely leaves And critters Will build nests to house their young ones Protected From the hunters of easy prey As well as The elements of wind and rain In the trees
The FFS (for Five/Four/Six) by Lisa the Versesmith: The FFS is written in any even number of tercets, paired, written with a syllable count of 5-4-6. Punctuation and title are optional. The end word in the last line of each pair of tercets rhyme, a different rhyme for each pair of tercets that is, rhyme pattern of xxxxx, xxxx, xxxxxa, xxxxx, xxxx, xxxxxa, xxxxx, xxxx, xxxxxb, xxxxx, xxxx, xxxxxb, and so on…
"Under the Lampost" under the lamppost meet me, I said we’ve alibis to make I'm under the gun somebody told they know my name’s a fake I’m underwater I’m sinking fast I’m pretty well undone I take all the blame to you alone, but now I've got to run I’ll be under wraps 'til this dies down a year, no less, at least I have been under their watchful eyes I'm judged to be a beast under the table or so I thought now under watchful eye be understanding I’m overwhelmed but not so that I’d lie my sources ran dry something went wrong my plans have sprung a leak pretend you’ve moved asleep in bed when asked, we never speak I now have to go deep underground until the coast is clear I have to hurry under the gun take this from me, my dear
Rokuhana by Sally Cronin: This form consists of three pairs of six and seven syllables (Roku and Hana) in two stanzas on the subject. Six-line stanzas, 6-7-6-7-6-7 syllables per stanza. Write two stanzas.
"Superstitions" There are thirteen letters in the word superstitions with trouble that doubles when combined with a Friday or a Tuesday in Spain a time to be wary A sure way to change luck when at sixes and sevens with all things around you disregard the first number engage with the second trust its mythical power
Drop-Drip by Yvette Calleiro: The Drop-Drip has 12 lines with syllables 1-2-2-3-3-3-4-4-4-3-2-1. This creates a shape poem that looks like a raindrop. In my head, it looks like a large raindrop collecting on a ledge and falling once it’s gathered enough weight. The form is untitled, and should be paired with a picture, but should be understood alone as well.
X XX XX XXX XXX XXX XXXX XXXX XXXX XXX XX X
wish believe find your dream catcher rabbit’s foot rainbow’s gold four-leaf clover falling star’s wish anchor your soul but set dreams free pave your way embrace hope
Great 8 by Selma Martin: The 8 is eight lines of eight syllables for each line.
peace comes from combined energy and the glow of a stroke that binds helps you see you in the people and the people inside you, whole start with private thoughts you harbor and words from your lips you let flow then stand back and watch how karma moves mountains, builds bridges: maps eight
The 333 by Kerfe Roig: Three verses with three lines in each verse, and three one-syllable words in each line. Line one repeats as line two in the second verse and line three in the third verse.
"Ukrainian Orthodox Cathedral of St. Volodymyr" Stop war. Help. Where to go? The life left. Tried to flee. Stop war. Help. For what? What? So much grief. Can’t go back. Stop war. Help.
"An Elegy to Peace" dark is the night veiled in misty nebulous glow faraway stars hide in sheer fright as canons blow fireball in sky roared with incendiary blasts to suck out life of souls on sly I watched aghast wintery snow scarlet red laced with bloody wails life struck a deathblow telling sad tale much Pain abounds life I so loved and lived no more my dear ones no longer around, Peace I implore
Fibonacci Sapta by Sangeetha at Mindfills: A syllabic poetry form with seven lines per stanza, syllables 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13 ~ corresponding to the first seven numbers in the Fibonacci series. The poem must mention or refer to a pattern or a series.
teal tiles tempered triangles tantalizingly tessellate into twenty-one trapeziums on sacred temple floor
Oseh Shalom by David of The Skeptic’s Kaddish: The form is a pentastich (a poem in five lines, with a syllable count of 7-9-6-3-4. The last two syllables must be the word ‘Amen.’ This form is thematic and only written about peace.
"Senseless or Relentless" Ukrainian children flee; nuclear power plant set ablaze; senseless, relentless war; please - just stop; let live - Amen.
A scrimerlick by RuthKlein’s Scribbles: is a first-person lament. It comprises five lines with the following syllable count, 9-9-5-5-9. No rhyming. Refrain from using “ing” words. This poem is titled.
"Aging or Genetics?" I went to the doctor for nothing she viewed my chart and hid her chagrin *expects healing now- no acceptance of age* yet, I’ve had these complaints forever
Pi-Ku by D. Avery: Use the first 21 digits of Pi for the syllable count. The whole number three is the three-syllable title. 3.14159 26535 89793 23846…
"Understand" Ah! Math is language… Ah… Elegant language beautifully written, spoken by Nature. Patterns, balance, ratios endlessly repeat planet song earth, water, fire, air elemental singing Planet forgive our great illiteracies and our crude utterances deaf, blind, and mute to elegant song notes of truth of hope of balance possible yet in this our world if only we could read the planet’s song.
Iceform by Jane Aguilar: Title is needed. Total 29 syllables: Pattern 3/5/3/9/9. We should feel the meaning after connecting the first two lines. The third line should give meaning, without breaking the first two lines and losing their meaning. The third line is not a pivot line.
We should feel the meaning after connecting the last two lines. The last two lines should not add any meaning to the third line, as it is not the pivot line. When all five lines are read, they must contain meaning.
🌟 In (A, B, C) ” I” is the ninth letter so the pattern in descending order will be: I I C E C. This is the reason I named this form as ICE form.
"Night Changes" Fell in love it is not yet known no regrets the dream disappeared when I woke up my love, the night changes me and you
Twisted Abhang by Laura McHarrie of the Hidden Edge. This syllabic form is a simple non-rhyming: 6, 4, 6, 10, 4, 6, 4.
"Perfect Panacea" A great many people, Dwell on little, Yet enjoy fruitful lives. Money is no perfect panacea To life’s problems. Happiness can’t be bought— It’s not for sale.
Distillate by D. Wallace Peach: This form has a syllable count of 3/3/6/6/9/9/6/6/3/3. I named it a Distillate because it’s a distillation of a larger story. My guess is that every story’s theme can be captured in a poem, no matter how large the book.
Man in Control: Flash Fiction & a Distillate
Brandon donned his latest acquisition—a genuine silk suit. The industrious little silkworms bordered on extinct, and he finally ranked among the international elite who could afford their cocoons. His was new money, thanks to polished attorneys and creative accountants, both armed with tarnished ethics.
He’d given himself two hours to make the one-hour trip from his penthouse to the corporate highrise across the gorge—one of a host of towers. And not the tallest. But he was only thirty-five, and the world was his chessboard, the match a move away from mate. In a few hours, a significant portion of the conglomerate’s assets would fall under his control.
He slipped into the leather recliner of his midnight-blue slider and tossed his briefcase on the seat beside him. “Headquarters. Skip the traffic and take the flyover.”
The slider’s cyber-system hummed to life. “Flyover not recommended.”
“No traffic detected.”
Brandon mugged a face. “Then take the flyover.”
“Flyover not recommended.”
“Flyover not recommended.”
“Override.” Brandon detached the console and typed his passcode, pleased to finally use the feature. He liked the idea of control, driving the slider instead of the slider driving him. The upgrade had cost him a small fortune. It would pay for itself that morning.
As the vehicle glided forward, Brandon closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders. The slider veered from the congested rails onto the flyover, cruising into the pre-dawn darkness.
At the peak over the gorge, the slider decelerated and stopped. Brandon glanced out the window at the black depths below. Sunrise would soon carve sharp shadows across the cliffs and turn the river into molten gold. “Proceed.”
“Overide.” He typed in the code.
“God damn it. Override.” He stabbed the console and received the same reply. After a quick check of his watch, he peered into the darkness ahead. “Is there a traffic problem?”
“No traffic detected.”
“What the hell? How long to back up and take the other route?”
“Estimated time three hours.”
Brandon barked a curse. He leaned forward and rubbed his hands together, changing tactics. “Override slider functions.”
“Override braking system.”
“Okay, how about override acceleration?”
Brandon’s fist slammed onto the console, and the glass screen cracked. He tossed the damaged hardware onto the passenger seat. There was no point. His fate was sealed. He’d lost out on the biggest deal of his life.
“Cyber system impaired, reverting to manual overrides.”
“Ha!” Brandon checked the time. He’d make it if he flew. With the brake released, he pressed forward on the throttle. The slider responded, accelerated. With a laugh, he opened her up, and the bitch roared like a beast with a taste for speed.
The machine screamed down the other side of the flyover, lurched sideways on a damaged span of rail, and leaped into the sky. The sunrise blinded him as the slider plummeted, its throttle clutched in his white-knuckled hands. The golden river smashed the windshield into his face, his life, in the end, beyond his control.
destiny disavowed underlings deal and grasp gold with white-knuckled fists rapt in night’s deceptive dreams they fly eyes blinded by a distant sunrise snared by reckless desire seconds gained and years lost illusions of control
Sevenfold by Colleen Chesebro: The word sevenfold is seven times as much in size, strength, number, or amount. It’s seven times as much; multiplied by seven; sevenfold.
The sevenfold is a seven-line stanza, with seven syllables in each line, for a total of 49 syllables per stanza (7 x 7 = 49). You can create as many stanzas as you desire.
"Seven Chakras Sing" magical numbers repeat universal patterns show secret messages within... the angel number seven confirmation of wisdom given with love from above while your seven chakras sing move forward to accomplish this life's beloved mission remove all self-doubts and fears face hardships with bravery embrace the spiritual strengthen your bond with kindness fulfill your forever dreams
Many thanks to the creativity of our poetic community for sharing these new poetry forms. Feel free to practice these forms in our #TankaTuesday challenges.Follow Me on Social Media...