This is from that Wikipedia reference:
Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
When read aloud,
<Piffka note: all poetry is meant to be read aloud... even to yourself>
such verse naturally follows a beat. Many feel the success of iambic pentameters is related to its sounding like a human heartbeat.
There is some debate over whether works such as Shakespeare's.. were originally performed with the rhythm prominent, or whether it was disguised by the patterns of normal speech as is common today. In written form, the rhythm looks like this:
da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM
(weak STRONG / weak STRONG / weak STRONG / weak STRONG / weak STRONG)
Was-THIS the-FACE that-LAUNCH'D a-THOU sand-SHIPS
(That "da-DUM" btw is a common way for 'mericans to show rhythm. Does it seem strange to you, Oristar? There are many variations... da-da-DUM/da-da-DUM, or DA-DUM-da-DUM.
Although strictly speaking, iambic pentameter refers to five iambs in a row (as above), in practice, most poets vary their iambic pentameter a great deal, while maintaining the iamb as the most common foot.
Wikipedia doesn't continue to show the rhythm of the rest of that poetic quote, so I will.
Towers, which is a two-syllable word, would be read as a single syllable... something very much like"tars". That also makes the line fully I.P.
As for your poem, if you remove "though" from your first line and change the second as shown, your poem is almost fully in iambic pentameter.
In reading this poem, it is highly unlikely that a narrator would emphasize the last syllable of "unconsciously" in order to fulfill every bit of the I.P. (Just a tip!)
Because you must catch an "ear" for poetry, this seems like a great way to learn English, Oristar. You must have an excellent teacher. I am impressed.
That reference goes on to discuss the variations of I.P. and mentions, at the end, my favorite poet, Edna St. Vincent Millay. I'll quote you some short poem of her work
just for fun!
(This poem happens to be in iambic quatrameter... four feet, not five.)
Spring rides no horses down the hill,
But comes on foot, a goose-girl still.
And all the loveliest things there be
Come simply, so, it seems to me.
If ever I said, in grief or pride,
I tired of honest things, I lied:
And should be cursed forevermore
With Love in laces, like a whore,
And neighbours cold, and friends unsteady,
And Spring on horseback, like a lady!
(A poem of nature, but a little silly, ironic and piquant - typical Millay.)