A very short poem I wrote in a matter of moments as a tetrameter exercise. Note, however, the sudden shift to pentameter at the end. To me tetrameter is the meter of love, but pentameter is the meter of emotion and human nature. It is in human nature to indict, is it not?

Where once our fingers intertwined,
I now grasp cold air left behind.
Where once I drank deep of your kiss,
No draught but air falls on these lips.
Where once in eyes I saw your soul,
The air has snatched them as its toll.
Where once love gave me full inspire,
It hurts to breathe, to know this airy liar.

Well, here's another one. It is also in iambic tetrameter, and was inspired by a recent travel through DeviantArt's poetry section.

The Apocalypse of Modern Poetry
I walk with softened feet across
A land full changed by moody times:
What once was green like sunlit moss
Is ash now, like forbidden rimes.

A flow as rivers gurgling past
Smooth rocks to tumble as a fall
Is now a trickle of times passed,
Sucked dry and never drunk at all.

Machines they are, of iron made,
But dull, without incisive edge--
No master lives to wield a blade
More noble than a common dredge.

They call it freedom to make do
With any hodgepodge of strung words
And call it "poetry," this strew
Of mindless metaphor, and herds
Of base emotions substanceless,
Indicative of no finesse.

But though the ground be scorched and burned,
Old roots still live though they be spurned.

Wow.
I really...have no other word for it. Simply amazing. Although, just one thing, I find it interesting that you speak in an elder tense or tongue as opposed to a more modern one.
For example, a line from your most recent work, "old roots still live though they be spurned", you use "be" instead of "are". I was just curious why you write in this tone? Is it something picked up from reading too many old books, or do you intentionally write in this manner so as to set the tone for the piece?

It's the way English flows for me. Iambic tetrameter flows readily from my mind, and in this case "be" came up instead of "are." Now that you alert me to it, I would have to say that using the latter would be very droll indeed. To use the technical term, I would want to channel the subjunctive mood. The connotations between "be" and "are" are very different, after all: One is emotional, while the other is factual.

As a trend, I don't know if I speak in an elder tense. In my sonnets, I do use Shakespearian and archaic English to marry the style with the language. Aside from that, I don't think I do. Uncommon English, perhaps, but not elder English.

It's the way English flows for me. Iambic tetrameter flows readily from my mind, and in this case "be" came up instead of "are."

Makes sense to me. Sometimes I scrap meter in favor of what sounds right...usually in the case of my more whimsical poems(Ninja Spy Science Guy and The Damsel In Distress come to mind).

Now that you alert me to it, I would have to say that using the latter would be very droll indeed.

I think that it would be excellent either way.

To use the technical term, I would want to channel the subjunctive mood.

In...English...por favor. 0.o

The connotations between "be" and "are" are very different, after all: One is emotional, while the other is factual.

Quite true.

Also; thou hast(ha) inspired me to write a romantic sonnet, which is way out of my normal comfort zone. It's fairly traditional Italian, and cliche to the max >.<

Haha, I thought you said that you didn't mind free verse? I'm going to have to construct one to combat your style.

On a different note, I do like the visual imagery you create with all of your poems. Especially this last one. I feel as if I am witnessing you walking along the timeline of poetry. It's green for some reason. Even though you mention machinery.

I don't mind free verse done well. Unfortunately, it's all too rare. Personally, I don't write in it because rhyme and meter is already ingrained in me, and because I don't think I have the skill to do so.

Just a quickie with some stylistic experimentation. It's simply an iambic tetrameter scheme, a very innocent meter, but combined with several layers of patterns. Inspired by a Chinese poem I read a while ago, but I can't remember the details of it.

Here and There

A bench of stone one summer noon:
Three feet and friendship in between.
I was here, and you were there.

Letter writing, mailman's due:
Three inches on a stamp between.
I was here, and you were there.

Salut d'amour, that old love tune:
Three octaves with four hands between.
I was here, and you were there.

An aisle of flow'rs for life anew:
Three years and patience in between.
I was here, and you were there.

One night, and then three turns to two:
For countless joy, the passion starts.
I was there, and you were here.

It could not last, we bid adieu:
Three by three by five foot two, it ends.
I am here, and you are there.

Well shoot, it's been a long time. Here's a terzanelle I recently wrote.

Inspiration by Night
There is a time at night I know
When quiet reigns upon the earth,
Where fertile thoughts take root and grow.

This is the time of dark rebirth,
A phoenix born without the flame
When quiet reigns upon the earth.

I cast away that sunlit name
As dusk fades swift to darkness deep,
A phoenix born without the flame.

And there among the beasts that creep,
I join the odd menagerie
As dusk fades swift to darkness deep.

I am this world, I am the sea,
The ground and sky, in everything
I join the odd menagerie.

No other mortal eye has seen
There is a time at night I know
The ground and sky, in everything
Where fertile thoughts take root and grow.

It's been a while since I last posted my own work here, but I'd like to continue.

One of my hobbies is translating Chinese poetry. Classical Chinese is very difficult, so it takes a bit of imagination and digging around commentaries to pull off. My main translation thrust is that I want to evoke the emotions of the poem while preserving the fidelity of the poem. But if I had to choose one in this trade-off, I would go with the former. Here's an example that I was fortunate enough to have my cake and eat it too.

Snowy River
Liu Zongyuan

No birds fly o'er the thousand hills, it seems;
Along the myriad paths, footprints are gone.
A lonely old man boats with rain garb on:
Alone he fishes in the snowy stream.

This Tang dynasty poem is simple yet marvelous. Actually, in the centuries before this poem was written, nature was viewed as primal and something to be feared, the realm of beasts and darkness. But as unstable times came, with civil wars and rebellions and a new "emperor" what seemed like every week, people began to see oneness with nature as a comfort.