near rhymes

wildsweetone said:

near rhymes hold some kind of fascination for me. i enjoy the pleasant sound and the surprise that comes with recognising them.

Charley's poem in the PDC holds some near rhymes and it's made me think...

are near rhymes better placed within the line or at line ends?

i feel that they're better within the writing but i don't have any particular reasoning.

i suppose you're all going to say it doesn't matter where they're placed now. lol

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. . .
And a song I was writing is left undone
I don't know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can't believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme
. . .

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Tristesse said:

I totally agree with reltne.

Internal rhymes or "near rhymes" can add to a poem, both in readability and visually.

Missed rhymes at the end of the line simply irritate me and I think of it as laziness.

I suppose I find them accpetabl when sung - there'd be no popular music otherwise.

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wildsweetone said:

near rhymes hold some kind of fascination for me. i enjoy the pleasant sound and the surprise that comes with recognising them.

Charley's poem in the PDC holds some near rhymes and it's made me think...

are near rhymes better placed within the line or at line ends?

i feel that they're better within the writing but i don't have any particular reasoning.

i suppose you're all going to say it doesn't matter where they're placed now. lol

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jthserra said:

I find the use of near rhymes fascinating and when I read them in a poem I think of their use not as lazy, quite the opposite. I think lazy is settling for the same old rhyming pairs (sky, fly, be, free, see) rather than stretch the language and play off of word sounds. This is especially true if the near rhyme can enhance the flow of the work. Lazy is forcing the rhyme, with backward or simply awkward phrasing used simply to create the rhyme.



A Fall (Villanelle)
by jthserra ©

To look at leaves that once were poems
and poets: branches against which
the colors blossom, autumn blooms

in elm, oak, magnolia perfumes
the unfolding buds strangely twitch
to look at leaves that once were poems.

Faint greens harden to verdant gloom
a depth and strength, vascular pitch
the colors blossom, autumn blooms

bright, fiery hues, the verse consumes
balanced on stems, a poet's stitch
to look at leaves that once were poems

that tip and tumble: falling looms
a failing voice, worn, graveled hitch
the colors blossom, autumn blooms.

The scattered forms at earthly tombs
are folded, crackled, the soil rich
to look at leaves that once were poems
the colors blossom, autumn blooms.


In the constriction of the villanelle's two rhymes, the near rhyme of poems and blooms adds a bit of interest I think. In the context of the poem it all seems quite natural.


jim : )

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jthserra said:

I find the use of near rhymes fascinating and when I read them in a poem I think of their use not as lazy, quite the opposite. I think lazy is settling for the same old rhyming pairs (sky, fly, be, free, see) rather than stretch the language and play off of word sounds. This is especially true if the near rhyme can enhance the flow of the work. Lazy is forcing the rhyme, with backward or simply awkward phrasing used simply to create the rhyme.



A Fall (Villanelle)
by jthserra ©

To look at leaves that once were poems
and poets: branches against which
the colors blossom, autumn blooms

in elm, oak, magnolia perfumes
the unfolding buds strangely twitch
to look at leaves that once were poems.

Faint greens harden to verdant gloom
a depth and strength, vascular pitch
the colors blossom, autumn blooms

bright, fiery hues, the verse consumes
balanced on stems, a poet's stitch
to look at leaves that once were poems

that tip and tumble: falling looms
a failing voice, worn, graveled hitch
the colors blossom, autumn blooms.

The scattered forms at earthly tombs
are folded, crackled, the soil rich
to look at leaves that once were poems
the colors blossom, autumn blooms.


In the constriction of the villanelle's two rhymes, the near rhyme of poems and blooms adds a bit of interest I think. In the context of the poem it all seems quite natural.


jim : )

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chefsuess said:

Some of Wilfred Owen's finest poems used half rhymes or near rhymes to great effect. My favorite is his poem, Strange Meeting:


It seemed that out of battle I escaped
Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped
Through granites which titanic wars had groined.

Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,
Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.
Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared
With piteous recognition in fixed eyes,
Lifting distressful hands, as if to bless.
And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall, -
By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.

With a thousand pains that vision's face was grained;
Yet no blood reached there from the upper ground,
And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan.
'Strange friend,' I said, 'here is no cause to mourn.'
'None,' said that other, 'save the undone years,
The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,
Was my life also; I went hunting wild
After the wildest beauty in the world,
Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,
But mocks the steady running of the hour,
And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.
For by my glee might many men have laughed,
And of my weeping something had been left,
Which must die now. I mean the truth untold,
The pity of war, the pity war distilled.
Now men will go content with what we spoiled,
Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled.
They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress.
None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress.
Courage was mine, and I had mystery,
Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery:
To miss the march of this retreating world
Into vain citadels that are not walled.
Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels,
I would go up and wash them from sweet wells,
Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.
I would have poured my spirit without stint
But not through wounds; not on the cess of war.
Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.

I am the enemy you killed, my friend.
I knew you in this dark: for so you frowned
Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.
I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.
Let us sleep now...'


Owen was killed in one of the last battles of World War I, and this and Owen's other war poems were published posthumously.

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flyguy69 said:

Here's a poet I am delighted to see again! Welcome back, jth!

Since poetry is an art, the use of rhymes, near-rhymes, pararhymes etc. in surprising or innovative ways is one of the many ways poets can make their work enjoyable. Don't restrict yourself, WSO!

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Tristesse said:

I know we've discussed this before but here I go again. Accents make a big difference on how one reads or hears (in ones head) a "near rhyme. For you, jim - and it's a woohoo to see you here once more - the word "poem" would be pronounced very differently from me. Once more, it's a very personal thing so we'll never all agree.

I love your villanelle and you're right - it is interesting but - for me - "poem" and "bloom" are not close to rhyming.


(It must be a full moon - jim and darkmaas in the same day!)

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wildsweetone said:

no, not restricting myself at all. just learning my own likes and dislikes.

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Liar said:

For those inclined to mess around with rhyming...

Rhymezone's online dictionary does not only serve you rhymes, but synonyms, homophones, antonyms, string matches...

It is also great if you're stuck in a thought. Just toss in a word, and it will spit out a bunch of new ones, that might trigger the imagination.

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wildsweetone said:

gosh these are some cool links! thank you

I have been using this: Online Rhyming Dictionary and my braincells which explains a lot of things.

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wildsweetone said:

i sure wish i could bottle up RhymeZone and carry it around with me for a week.

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