BLANK VERSE, FREE VERSE AND LYRICAL POEMS And a partridge in a pear tree

BLANK VERSE Having a regular meter No rhyme The meter most commonly used with blank verse has been iambic pentameter.

STILL I RISE You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my own back yard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise. Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise. - Maya Angelou

Don’t Drink The Water - Dave Matthews Band Come out, come out, no use in hiding. Come out, come out, can you not see There’s no place here, what were you expecting? No room for both, just room for me. So you will lay your arms down, Yes, I will call this home. Away, away, you have been banished. Your land is gone, and given to me. And here I will spread my wings. Yes, I will call this home. What’s this you say, you feel a right to remain? Then stay and I will bury you. What’s that you say, your father’s spirit still lives in this place? Well, I will silence you. Here’s the hitch, your horse is leaving. Don’t miss your boat, it’s leaving now. And as you go I will spread my wings. Yes, I will call this home. I have no time to justify to you, Fool, you’re blind, move aside for me. All I can say to you my new neighbor, You must move on or I will bury you. Now as I rest my feet by this fire Those hands once warmed here, but I have retired them. I can breathe my own air and I can sleep more soundly Upon these poor souls, I’ll build heaven and call it home. Cause you’re all dead now. I live with my justice And I live with my greed in me I live with no mercy And I live with my frenzy feet I live with my hatred And I live with my jealousy I live with the notion that I don’t need anyone but me Don’t drink the water Don’t drink the water Blood in the water Don’t drink the water

FREE VERSE Follows no rhythmic pattern May or may not rhyme Follows no rhyme scheme

Jim Morrison (The Doors) There are no longer "dancers", the possessed.  The cleavage of men into actor and spectators  is the central fact of our time. We are obsessed with heroes who live for us and whom we punish. If all the radios and televisions were deprived of their sources of power, all books and paintings burned tomorrow, all shows and cinemas closed, all the arts of vicarious existence...  We are content with the "given" in sensation's  quest. We have been metamorphosised from a mad  body dancing on hillsides to a pair of eyes  staring in the dark.

Blind Justice - Tupac Shakur excuse me but lady liberty needs glasses and so does mrs justice by her side both the broads r blind as bats stumbling thru the system justice bumbed into mutulu and trippin on geronimo pratt but stepped right over oliver and his crooked partner ronnie justice stubbed her big toe on mandela and liberty was misquoted by the indians slavery was a learning phase forgotten with out a verdict while justice is on a rampage 4 endangered surviving black males i mean really if anyone really valued life and cared about the masses theyd take em both 2 pen optical and get 2 pair of glasses

LYRICAL POETRY form of poetry that does not attempt to tell a story, as do epic poetry and dramatic poetry. portraying characters and actions, the lyric poet addresses the reader from the word lyre meant to be sung

As I Wandered Like A Cloud I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: 10 Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed--and gazed--but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, 20 They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils. - William Wordsworth