Blank Verse

I appreciate the freedom that NOT having to rhyme in iambic pentameter gives, but... well, blank verse is still a struggle.  The lines are longer than the ones I would write naturally, and it's difficult because of the way the lines sound when I'm composing them in my head to not end-stop all of them.  I think that's because, prior to having written the next line, it's hard to imagine what thought I could continue in the same rhythm, but I tried.

I don't particularly care for blank verse. I didn't before I wrote my poem, and I don't after.  Something about the rhythm in combination with lack of rhyme, though easier to write, I find incredibly jarring; I kept tripping over the words trying to read aloud both my own poem and the poem within the text. I think this is because my brain keep anticipating a rhyme that never arrives, and the constant re-shocking makes it bizarrely difficult for me to focus on anything but how irritating the pattern is.

I tried at one point to write it as a prose poem and then break it up into ten syllable lines and see if it worked- I think it was successful for some lines, and actually allowed me to get three and four syllable words in, when I'd never managed to before.  Some lines definitely had to be deconstructed to fit the rhythm, though, which was frustrating.

Originally there were another 5 lines to this poem, but I couldn't figure out how to end it when they were present. They may make a reappearance if ever I come up with something.

THE GIANT

The light breathes soft along the craggy rock-

kaleidoscopic dancing with the cliffs-

pliés amidst the coming winter clouds

and cries impatient harmonies with wind,

with waves, both drumming heavy on the coast,

the crashing clash, the symbols of the sea.

Such forceful urge to push the pillars down

and break the bridge that rides atop their weight-

Could small conspiracies of air and dawn

collapse the work of eras long elapsed?