Pretty Poetry For Everyday

9 Line Poems to Teach You How to Write

9 Line Poems to Teach You How to Write

When it comes to poetry, there are so many different forms and styles out there it can all seem sort of confusing. Especially when you are attempting to write your own. But don’t let that deter you, writing poetry is such an amazing pasttime and hobby.

It’s been around for centuries, and will continue to live on throughout time, for as long as literature is an outlet for us humans. Writing poetry is form of therapy, seeing as it allows you to get out your thoughts and emotions onto the page in a way that allows you to process them. Otherwise, emotions can fester, and can build up until they are too much for us to deal with. Getting them out is much more cathartic.

Writing poetry can also be a very fun thing to do. Especialy when you practice it on a daily basis. It is a muscle like any other, and you can build it up overtime. Many of the most famous poets wrote for most of their lives. So if you are just starting out, do not fret, everyone started somewhere. One of the best forms of poerty to get your started out properly is a 12 line stanza, better known as the Rondeau Prime. A Rondeau prime is a form of

9 line poems by famous poets

1. Twin Stars

Can You Hear My Heart?

Oh, but I can tell!

We are Twin Stars

With different births.

My caring shadow-

It has your face

The voice of my soul

Knows well your name.

Tell me,

Can you hear my heart?

Oh! How I love you,

My best friend.

-Clairel Estevez

2. “June:  The Gianicolo” 

Driven to this, the pairs of lovers roll
into the parking lot like shaken dice,
and though  they’ve come expressly for a vista
much grander than themselves, begin to fuse
into the other’s eyes.  Oh, that fond conviction
of a match made in Heaven!
Below them, at the base
of an ancient hill, the million lamps of Rome
light up in rosy approbation, each
signalling to one chosen counterpart
among the stars the nightly freshened wish
to lie uniquely in its dazzled gaze.
-Mary Jo Salter

3. Unknown

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale heard;

and sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

-Emily Dickenson

4. Ode to Sorrow

Her eyes, a closed book,

her heart, a locked door;

she writes melancholy

like she’s lived it before.

She once loved in a way,

you could not understand;

he left her in pieces

and a pen in her.

The ode to her sorrow

in the life she has led-

her scratches on paper,

the words they have bled.


5. Airline Surprise

On a mao

I see black lines.

From the sky

I see designs.

Lines of river

trace a field.

Shapes of nature

are revealed.

Countries seem

to disappear

There are no borders,

way up here.


6. 12 Lines of Sorrow

The night air is cold
The world is dark
Once again you feel old
Listen! Can you hear it? Sweet song of a lark.
It makes you younger, it makes you mine
Yet I am silent,
Makes you joyfully smile.
Then it is gone, I sing my lament
A lullaby of the breeze
-Gone perfume of flowers sweet
A stray dog, covered in flees.
It’s life ended; no more does it leap…

-Anne Harkonen

7. 12 Lines

For every When? There is a Why?

For every push, there is a pull

For every truth there is a lie

For every fall there is a fool

For every Where? There is a How?

For every Heaven, there is a Hell

For every moment there is a now

For every nose there is a smell

For every foe there is a friend

For every smile there are many tears

For every start there is an end

When every day we face our fears

Gordon David

8. Success Is Counted Sweetest

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the Purple Host
Who took the Flag today
Can tell the definition
So clear of Victory

As he defeated – dying –
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Burst agonized and clear.

-Emily Dickenson

9. Wings

My wings expand as I reach

for the sky

They cannot be clipped, I will

not be still

I need to reach my snow-

capped mountain

For I cannot settle for

anything less

My dream is nestled in the

snow-capped top

I expand my wings and


-D.G Torrens

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