When poetry is mentioned as a genre, formal poetry is usually the first thing that comes to mind. Things like rhyme schemes and iambic pentameter are often studied in schools, and formal structures are staples of the genre. Here are three formal poetry structures, with examples and how you can write your own.
Haiku
Haikus are a simple form of poetry because they are inherently so short. They have a 5-7-5 syllable structure with no rhyming necessary. For example, here’s a haiku about my overcast morning:
The sun rose today
Pushing past the gray to kiss
Soft warmth on my face
Because it’s such a compact form, some poets may find it restricting, especially if you’re used to writing much longer form poetry. However, I’ve found that the challenge of fitting an entire idea into such a small space really helps me choose more impactful words.
Sometimes, if I’m stuck on a spoken word poem (which I talk more about in this post) and struggling to find the right words, I’ll try to take my idea and fit it into a haiku. By taking a new approach to the same idea, it helps me unstick myself from whatever rut I’ve worked myself into. Then, once I’ve gotten some new language, I’ll approach my original poem again to see if I can distill any of the ideas into something more compact or impactful.
Sonnet
Sonnets, popularized by Shakespeare but adapted by countless other poets, incorporate rhyme into varying schemes. Where “A” is a line that rhymes with another “A” and the same for following letters, the structure of a classic sonnet is 14 lines with the following scheme:
A
B
A
B
C
D
C
D
E
F
E
F
G
G
So, for example, here’s a sonnet about the same subject as my haiku:
The sun rose soft and early,
Fighting it’s way aboveground.
I woke, thinking, “surely
There is some light to be found?”
The gray of the clouds hovered
Woven tight and unkempt –
In a thick blanket, they smothered
The feeble sunrise attempt.
But when I stepped outside,
Seeking out any daylight,
The birds began flying wide
And the clouds lost their fight.
The light rushed down in a race
Just to kiss my smiling face.
The rhyme schemes differ across the many different types of sonnets, but what I love about rhyme schemes is that it forces you to use language you may not have stumbled across when you first envisioned your poem’s concept. By having a set scheme, it gives you as a poet a structure upon which you can hang your concept.
If you’re intimidated by rhyme, my advice is to start with a few couplets, which are just two lines that rhyme with each other. Then, try alternating rhyming lines into a four-line quatrain with the scheme A-B-A-B. Once you’re comfortable, test out a few different schemes and let yourself play! And if you ever need some help, there are always rhyming dictionaries that can give you some great word ideas. I recommend this one because it sorts the rhyming words and phrases by syllable count and includes near-rhymes.
Villanelle
Last but not least, villanelles have a complicated structure but they are my favorite type of formal poetry to write. It’s challenging, absolutely, but in my opinion it’s extremely satisfying when you make it work. It’s a 19-line structure with five 3-line stanzas and a final four-line quatrain. They have a specific rhyme scheme, with a catch: two of the rhyming lines stay the exact same throughout the entire poem. I’ve labeled them “A1” and “A2” below, and they also rhyme with the “A” lines (which can change, as long as they rhyme).
A1
B
A2
A
B
A1
A
B
A2
A
B
A1
A
B
A2
A
B
A1
A2
It looks intimidating, but don’t let that scare you! Here’s one of the most well-known villanelles, so you can see what this rhyme scheme looks like in action:
Do not go gentle into that good night (Dylan Thomas)
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
(Source)
It’s a beautiful form because it’s cyclical, having the repeating A1 and A2 lines be introduced at the start, then alternate throughout, and then finally come together as the final two lines… it gives the poem a certain closure that’s hard to replicate outside of the form.
If you want to try writing a villanelle for yourself, my advice is to start with the A1 and A2 lines. Design the ending couplet so that you’re happy with it and can see the poem ending there, then approach the rest of the poem as a build up to those two lines finally coming together. It takes practice and work, and it can be frustrating because it’s 19 lines with only two rhyming possibilities (A or B), so try to pick words that have lots of rhyming potential. A rhyming dictionary is especially useful for schemes like this, so don’t be afraid to use one!
So what do you think? Do you like formal poetry structures like these or do you prefer to wing it? How does Do not go gentle make you feel? Let me know in the comments! And if you don’t want to miss out on any Author Rescue content, join the monthly newsletter!
-Katy
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