Caught in the net

I appreciate Free Verse after reading poems by
T. S. Eliot, Harold Hart Crane and Walt Whitman.
My favourite poems in this genre are:

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
To Brooklyn Bridge
Leaves of Grass

However, structured poetry as defined as a consistent
metrical pattern has become my forte. Let it be
known though, I strike a happy balance by writing
both structured and unstructured poetry.
In so doing, I can say that I have not experienced a
writer’s block even though I have been doing this
creative writing seriously since 1980.

Free Verse is often described as an unrhymed line
without a consistent metrical pattern. In Free Verse,
the term, Unit applies to Stanza and Line refers to Verse.
According to the compliers of Wikipedia, Free Verse is
recognized as poetry by virtue of its complex patterns
of one thing or another that readers can recognize to be
part of a logical whole. This encyclopedia group, sees
Free Verse as having three major layers:

1. The free iambic verse which poets like T. S. Eliot
and Harold Hart Crane have mastered.

2. The Cadenced Verse as in the poems of Walt Whitman

3. Free Verse proper where discrepancies and variations
of meter run the gamut or take centre stage.

I agree with others that Free Verse of the highest caliber
must be beautifully rhythmic, and must flow smoothly
within a rich and vibrant imagery. Free Verse is like
“apple pie” or “pumpkin pie” in the American Diaspora,
I venture to say. It makes a bold statement, along
democratic ideals. Therefore, it can be viewed as the
great emancipator and liberator of the human soul as
reflected in this poetic genre.

I’m proud of my West Indian and Barbadian roots also of
my educational attainment from both the British, Canadian
and American cultures in that order. This being said,
I have grown to appreciate to the fullest, the poetry genres
from the Old World and New World. I don’t see either one
as being superior over the other. They both continue to enrich
the literary landscape of our times with their varying
paradigms, we can for sure, appreciate to the fullest.

Sample poems

* Caught in the Net
* Flying Fish
* Hidden Agenda
* No Friendly Sky Anymore
* Pohutukawa
* Simple Kiwi Pleasures
* The Daffodils
* The Flying Spot
* The Tribal Beat of Distant Drums
* Wrinkles

Your comments on this thread are greatly appreciated.

The Flying Spots

English people say ladybird
That I think is absurd
But these Brits are conservative
Uptight, maybe
And they are polite

Americans say ladybug
Naturally outspoken
But they are so generous
And like to hug

I wish they would disregard
The naming games
And simply call me
The flying-spots

Dual names do vex me so
I moved elsewhere
To Boston and Ohio
Where those folks do really care

Since then the lodgings
In other States I have
Accepted their gardens
As my very own

And to baffle my foes I lash out
With my swindle
Faking dead gives me a kick

Now kids
Name for me other places
In the USA
Where I freely roam
In their gardens
And love to prey

Do any of them
Have borders by the sea
You are correct I must agree

So what! I might be the bug
Of aerospace
Flying around is no disgrace

I parade my dicey dots in a line
On the jacket on my back
My good luck charm
I have given it to those folks
Living in Massachusetts
Tennessee and Ohio, too

For I must protect
The ecosystem from aphids
They have no respect
For they stick to leaves like crazy glue
Killing plants
Old and new

With my voracious appetite
I eat them up in the broad daylight
So that leaves do not die of wilt
And farmers need not sulk or cry


© Paterika Hengreaves
Summer 2003/New York, USA



This poem is about the family of beetles known in Barbados
(my homeland) as ladybirds. Scientists refer to these minor
creatures as lady beetles. In childhood recollections, I would
spend many precious moments observing ladybirds sited in
the back garden and fields of our family home on the northern
most part of the island. I would put the captured ladybirds in
a ventilated see-through bottle and watch their antics. Of course,
when done I would release them unharmed back to their natural
habitat. I like them way back then and still do but not the
centipede though, such a horrible creature that would sting like crazy.
As a child, I was told by my grand mother not to harm ladybirds
because to do so would spell “bad luck” lol now, but I believed
every word my grandmother said. One day I saw a ladybird on my
mother’s shoulder, for she had just come from the garden where
she had been picking pigeon peas. I cried to her, “Mother there
is a ladybird on your shoulder”.She said with a great smile, “really,
then that is my good luck for today!” She did not brush it off and
went on her way into the house. When I looked at her shoulder
again it was not there. Mother said, “It flew away on its own
reconnaissance so my good luck is here to stay”, she smiled.
So you see I grew up believing that ladybirds are good luck charms.
No wonder, for they are gorgeous creatures.

While on holiday at my sister’s home in New York, and during
the usual after dinner chat, I heard that certain places in the USA
have adopted these beautiful creatures as State symbols.
This gave me the inspiration to write this poem about them in
Free Verse form so becoming since, they epitomize freedom in
the true sense of the word, wouldn’t you say! Now here in Ohio,
I have seen lots of them in the garden and this was before
the autumn season set in.

Simple Kiwi Pleasures

The scenery
Of the Niu Tireni landscape

















On the road to Whangarei
Is breathtakingly beautiful

From north to south
East and the west

On all sides the traffic flows
In an on ending line both fast and slow

The awesomeness of the rolling hills
The trees and fauna

Of every shape and kind
Burst with dazzling beauty

From the electrifying rays of a sun
They spread their glow of splendour

Like the neon lights 
Beaming across the Auckland Harbour

Everywhere through searching eyes
Are flower-strewn meadows

And babbling brooks and streams
That lap up the springtime air

While beneath the trees
And in the fields

Golden daffodils stand with their trumpets
Lifted proudly towards the wind

They herald in the musical sounds
Of the forested land

Now high above in the azure sky
Whipped cream images

With unique designs
Gently float on by

And at the mountain base sheep and lambs do graze
And frolic with a stately prance

Such simple pleasures do abound
In Aotearoa, Land of the Long White Cloud


© Paterika Hengreaves
2004 – 2005/Hibiscus Coast, New Zealand

Hidden Motive

Some people would do and say anything
When on the chase for a mark with stripes
They are not true to themselves or to us
Dishonesty of thought, you would agree

Do these people rest at night
Or do they sleep with opened eyes

Why such self-inflicted pain for fame

Oh! That is a burning shame

We are persons with unique minds
And divergent thinkers
That is what democracy allows

Independent thought, it does arouse

Be sincere in all you do
That should be your motto too

Be guided by facts
And a truthful heart
No bitterness abounds
When you must part

Tongue and cheek
Do have words, they say
But yet remaining in place
Just the same

Oh, yes
Opinions expressed
Can cause offence
When not coated
With plain commonsense

To reflect is a marvelous thing
Because it purges the brain
Of useless views each day
So we think out loud
Every now and then
With no particular axe to grind


© Paterika Hengreaves
2005/Barbados

EPIC POEMS

Author's Comments

Epics deal with the traditions, mythical or historical events
of a nation. Essentially, an epic is a long narrative poem
celebrating the adventures and achievements of a hero.
In Modern use, the term, “epic” is generally applied to all lengthy
works on matters of great importance. Now, why do I say Modern!
This is to distinguish it from the tradition style in which
Epics were written. Of course, the description remains the same.
The Traditional Epic uses heroic quatrain or heroic verse
and rhyme scheme abab, composed in iambic pentameter verse
in English, Hexameter in Greek and Latin Otava rima.

Sample Poems

* Nelson
* The Faux Pas
* Tuakau Honey Jar First To Ever Rest

ELEGY POEM

Author's Comments:

The Elegy is a type of poetry that shows lament, praise and consolationin in a formal and sustained way over the death of a particular person. Its mood is meditative, plaintive or sorrowful. It has Hexameter verses.

Hexameter is a line of verse consisting of six metrical feet. The term, however, is usually used for dactylic hexameter consisting of dactyls (stressed/unstressed/unstressed) and spondees (stressed/stressed) the meter which the Greek and Latin epics were written.

Decadence

That blooming park is found across the road
Vagrancy explodes in every mode
Mongooses and green monkeys roam
Toads paddle amid the foam
Tainted colours explode
Where foul scents abode
In fertile loam
Ants decode
When gloam
Falls


© Paterika Hengreaves
April 2006/Ohio, USA

The Deluge

He roams
The ocean bed
Plotting mankind’s demise
Tsunami waves satanic hands
Of death


© Paterika Hengreaves
February 2006/Barbados

Rose

Your roots
Are every where
In gardens near and far
With petals of sunshine beauty
Blooming


© Paterika Hengreaves
February 2006/Ohio, USA

Poetry Dish

Flying
Fonts leave the pen
Poetry is good brain food
A cuisine of accented time
And beats

© Paterika Hengreaves
February 2006/Barbados