Rimas Dissolutas: Poetic Form

Here’s a new (to me) form that sounds like it’s a spell from the Harry Potter series of books: Rimas Dissolutas!

Rimas Dissolutas Poems

Popular with 12th and 13th century French poets, rimas dissolutas is a poem that rhymes and doesn’t rhyme. For instance, each stanza contains no end rhymes, but each line in each stanza rhymes with the corresponding line in the next stanza–sometimes employing an envoi at the end.

For example, here’s how the end rhymes would work in a rimas dissolutas with three five-line stanzas:




(If the poem had an envoi, it might be 2-3 lines long using the c, d, and/or e rhymes.)

Note: There are no rules for meter, line length, or syllables–except that it should be consistent from stanza to stanza.


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Here’s my attempt at Rimas Dissolutas:

the cat of sadness, by Robert Lee Brewer

the cat of sadness does not purr
late at night anymore or hunt
for creatures to offer up still
half-alive & held in her teeth

oblivious to trembling furr
focused on performing her stunt
& pleasing her king on the hill
who loved her above & beneath

but who left her for a new thrill
as she curled up into a wreath


Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.


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6 thoughts on “Rimas Dissolutas: Poetic Form

  1. taylor graham


    about Jurgens Townsite, I might have gone
    past the school and the upscale homes-with-views
    over the Valley, to the very end
    of a road that shows on the map. And there

    I’d leave my car and start walking with dawn
    behind me. In my face, the westwind strews
    bits and pieces of the past, trails that wend
    into underbrush and disappear. Where

    was the rutty route for a stagecoach drawn
    by four- or six-in hand bearing old news
    to this frontier? What news might I now send
    of exploration here, now. If I dare….

  2. Tracy Davidson


    I lie. You lie. Everybody lies.
    Self-preservation kicks in, panic
    eclipsing honesty, common sense.

    Before you know it, fibs of small size
    grow bigger, can become titanic.
    And those we have lied to, take offence.

    Take a breath before lies get manic.
    Lying’s easy, but at what expense?

  3. Walter J Wojtanik


    High above the ground I perch
    a once green leafy thing hanging by a string,
    Now, I’m orange, brown and old
    and waiting for the other leaf to drop.
    A rapid fall in fall is all I have left.

    Why am I hanging in the lurch?
    Why wasn’t I created as some other thing?
    The winds grow strong and bitter cold,
    I pray to God that it will stop!
    And yet soon, this branch will be bereft

    of me! From here my senses search
    but the steel blue clouds are threatening.
    They say winter approaches, but I’m not sold,
    until suddenly I hear a “pop”!
    I begin my descent and slowly I drift!

    © Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

  4. Walter J Wojtanik


    I stand in the autumn of my life
    wondering what it has yet to show.
    I’ve had some successes, sometimes not,
    but accomplishments weren’t what I desired,
    to love and be loved was my prize.

    In this I do not stand alone. My wife
    and my companion makes my life glow!
    But lately her health isn’t so hot.
    And it seems that her days are mired
    in pain and disillusion. Her eyes

    reflect her heart, full of joy and rife
    with the compassion she requires now.
    And I do not look at this as my last shot,
    all the questions have been inquired.
    And all the prayers raised to the skies!

    © Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

  5. taylor graham


    Our whispering equanimity
    of evening eased into color of night
    too beautiful, you said, to be real –
    the moon, the stars, and a cooling breeze

    abruptly gone. Clouds of a black sea
    slashed by one tremendous flash of light,
    zigzag hieroglyphics cold as steel
    and wind’s chaotic gallop through trees.

    Rain! Now might the old dry creek run free?
    Lightning, and again – a second sight
    as if dissolution breaks the seal.
    Wind in our face, muddy to the knees –

    what a fresh new world the skies reveal
    at dawn – for hard work, a new heart’s-ease.

  6. creativemetaphor

    The Fall

    The thrilling feel
    Of downward rush,
    Of stomach churned
    And chest alight

    A head that reels
    From growing blush
    From cheeks now turned
    Bright red from white

    The lover’s ideal
    That gentle brush
    That touch so yearned
    Passions ignite

    Beautiful ordeal
    Love sick crush
    Logic adjourned
    Welcomed delight


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