POETRY STYLES

There are many different types of poetry. It comes in many types and genres. 

AS with other writings, we must first understand the meaning and power behind each poetic style before choosing which one best fits our purpose.

Although the cinquain poem is little known outside the poetry circle, it is an excellent way to convey emotion. The poem can be written in one of three styles, each holding a separate purpose.
 The style types are outlined below:

Type 1:
This style is the most lenient of the three. The amount of syllables or type of word doesn't matter. This is for a more 'free style' theme.
Line1: One word
Line2: Two words
Line 3: Three words
Line 4: Four words
Line 5: One word

Type 2:
This version of the cinquain poem is the most constrained version and is most often used to describe an object.
Line 1: A noun
Line 2: Two adjectives
Line 3: Three -ing words
Line 4: A phrase
Line 5: Another word for the noun

Type 3:
This version does not limit the amount of words or type of words, but merely the amount of syllables. This allows for a more flowing poem and can be used to incorporate a smooth feeling with its words.
Line1: Two syllables
Line2: Four syllables
Line 3: Six syllables
Line 4: Eight syllables
Line 5: Two syllables
Other aspects to keep in mind include staying on topic, keep the interest of your readers,

 Jamaica was once the tourist haven where foreign women were glad to come and experience the Jamaica male sexuality.This had led Jamaican to coin the term "Rent a dread".

Just Like Me

Sitting on this bench inhaling marijuana,

I hate the stench, the smell killing me

That to some is sweet aroma,

Observing the dread locked guy,

 On the opposite bench, a bald head,

Sitting on the bench just like me.

The dread was not smoking,

Surely no vagrant,

Just sitting on the beinch

In this magnificent mall

Waiting, just like me, just like me.

Watching individuals passing,

Maybe they wonder why I am pausing,

I’m observing their many crossings.

Here two now come pausing

On the same bench come sitting

Just like me, just like me.

I wonder are they really just like me

These two beside me black and white

Caught up in their own fantasy world,
Ages wide gaps apart,

Lovers ?

Looking like grandma and grandson,

Cared not what others may be thinking,

Fondling, necking, hugging, kissing.

Sitting on the bench

Just like me, just like me,

 Waiting.

 20 years have gone by

 With them come the

  Imagery of two lovers on that bench.

Making the most of the time

They had.

Where are they now.

Maybe gazing down memory lane,

 smiling.

I wish I were now

 standing in 

Their shoes 

waiting.

     Soy Criada

WOMAN POWER

Jan, 1, 2007

Women in Jamaica are very strong and resilient,Women in Jamaica have become very independent of men. If this trend continues men may not be needed even  to create a child

 Woman power

‘Hi sweet lady, stop a minute my queen,

You know you messing up mi structure,

You eyes are so beautiful, your smile

Is causing my heart to skip,

Skipping, skipping beats.

You think you could love mi

And allow mi to hug and squeeze you?

You think you could be my lover

And let mi be your baby father,

You think you could live with mi

 forever?

Now mister, you just stop right there,

I don’t want you to be my baby father,

You can hug mi, and squeeze mi

Because you surely looking good,

But to live with you, oh no mister.

 You can hug mi and squeeze mi

 And give mi the baby, but beg you

Leave out the father part,

You see me

I can be my own baby father.

Man, you working, no  you say

Your mother buy your jeans and sneakers?

I don’t want you to stay with me.

I have my German shepherd Lassie

To keep me and the baby company.

You have a house?

You say you live with you mama.

You see that 4 bedroom house over there

 With the queen size bed and dresser,

I live there because I slave and build it.

You think I want my baby to grow up

To know that him father sit at roadside

Day after day smoking marijuana?

 And that him father no want no work.

And when him father uncle write him

 A Paul him father friend him beg read it?

 

 I won’t carry you in the BMW?

You, surely not sitting beside me

That seat will be for my baby.

I won’t chauffeur you either, 

The back seat is for my Lassie

 Tell you what, just give mi the baby

And don’t worry about anything else,

Your name won’t even be on the age paper

 I won’t tell mi baby about you.

Him won’t feel ashamed of him Father,

If him ask, I will tell him  that you dead,

That you dead in a terrible car crash

Just before him was born

So now,

I am his only mother and father.

Soy Criada