Poetic devices are literary tools that poets employ to enrich the depth, sound, and emotional impact of their poetry....
Poetic devices are literary tools that poets employ to enrich the depth, sound, and emotional impact of their poetry.
Among these tools is the technique of enjambment.
Derived from the Middle French word meaning “to step over,” enjambment is a poetic device in which a thought or idea flows from one line to the next without a pause or punctuation break.
This seamless continuation creates a
sense of movement and rhythm, drawing
the reader through the poem.
A well-known example can be found in
T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land:
“April is the cruelest month, breeding /
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing /
Memory and desire.”
By Sarmad Tanvir
I knew the wait was over when the winds turned icy cold,
Excitement swelled within me; no longer could I hold.
As white clouds filled the sky, the birds
ceased their humming,
And I heard a chorus of children chanting,
“Winter is coming.”
The crunch of leaves beneath me,
fallen from bare trees,
The frost bit hard, and I could scarcely
feel below my knees.
The lake, now frozen, glistened as the
temperatures dipped low,
While people readied their shovels to
clear the gathering snow.
In a fleeting moment, a snowflake
kissed the ground,
Soon, all was blanketed in white
as I looked around.
Strolling through the streets, I beheld a
magnificent sight,
Walking in the snow from morning into night.
This enchanting season holds a special place in my heart,
A masterpiece of nature, its most divine work of art.
By Amna Ameer
Tell me,
Did it get better?
Did life get brighter?
Were your wounds healed?
Did you overcome
The voice that keeps telling you
To give up?
Tell me,
Does it get better?
Are you stronger now?
Even kinder?
Did the heartache go away?
Who wiped away your tears?
And were the screams
Finally quieted?
Did life treat you gently?
Or were all roses
Still laden with thorns?
And did every tombstone
Remind you of your own?
Tell me,
Did you escape your mind?
Did the voices break away?
Did they wither with time,
Leave you alone?
Did you finally find peace?
Some well-deserved quiet?
Or are you still struggling
To stay afloat,
To remain sane,
To try to make amends
With broken ribs,
As life keeps shoving
One hurt after the next,
And you don’t know
What it’s like
To lay your pain to rest?
Stuck in a whirlwind
Of anonymity and distance,
Every oblivion
Was once a person.
Each indifference
Comes like a fated end.
Once a home
Becomes a house.
Tell me,
Can you tell the difference
Between the living dead
And a lying corpse?
