I am what people all assume iamb,
A mix of rampant rouge and cold cyan,
If God exists and really gives a damn
Then Lord, I beg you, please impart your plan,
Derelict, feathers forgotten, downtrodden like pterodactylic hegemony,
Suffering, sabotaged senses allude to myself: the insidious enemy,
(Lebanon, isn't that a terror-dactyl also?)
With a tertius paeon they play on defences,
Enamour the logic through glamourized lenses,
With amphibrachs backing the river of rythmn
To cover the cost of our sins, unforgiven,
Iridescence illuminates spiralling smoke,
Carravagio's footprints, his masterful stroke,
Celebration, the principles proffered by loss,
Elevation, Saint Peter upturned on the cross,
Anapaestic, majestic the cadence of words,
Illustrations, emotions, emphatic in verse.
There's not enough education these days about meter in poetry.
Forget the fucking mathematical nomenclature of feet and meters, I'm talking about the natural syllabic rhythm of verse that carries the poem along like a lilting river of logical phonic progression.
In music, you have your metronome, your drums and percussion to keep time. The beats per minute AND the accentuating musical notes keep the rhythm ensuring the words fit in melodically.
In poetry, we read and have no idea of the required backbeat that keeps rhythm for us. That's why we have set meter measured in syllabic stress / unstress on words to act as the metronome.
Words have their own natural prodosy, their structure gives them emphasised or muted vowel sounds and these are the drum kicks of bass and treble or the ticking metronome.
In the above piece, the first stanza is iambic pentameter.
The second is dactylic heptameter.
The third is a mixture of tertius paeon and amphibractic tetrameter.
The final stanza is anapaestic tetrameter.
Hopefully, the natural sounds of the words will allow the verse to be read in the required meter without too much much effort required.