The poet: A blood donor at the hospital of words.
aphorism by Lucian Blaga from The Élan of the Island (1977), translated by Dan Costinaş
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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If You Are a Poet
If you are a poet it means so much
as others souls you often touch.
Your own soul you cruelly cut
petting the others with your blood.
To be a poet means to sing of beauty
and it’s the main poet’s duty.
Rhyming the words to tell the truth
and it has to be quite smooth.
To be a poet means to burn with passion,
to treat the others grief with a compassion,
to love the others as yourself,
to hear the voice of kind elf.
To be a poet means to dream,
to tell the world a touching theme,
to speak sincerely and frankly
but not just rhyming poems blankly.
Rhyming words is not the main,
there’s no need to strain your brain.
If your heart has nothing to tell
rhymed words will look like hell.
To be a poet means to write
as if your blood gushes from vein,
to write the rhythm of living breath,
the rhythm of life that seethe.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
30/9 2010
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Before a Poetry Reading
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I'm feeling nervous but I mustn't show it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I hope to heaven that I won't blow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I mustn't reveal that I'm a second-rate poet!
I'm only a rhymer, but they don't know it!
If you've got no talent you'll have to grow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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The cheapest is advice
Donor is happier than the receiver;
Cheaper than water anywhere
Is advice, free of cost, unasked.
In its balance sheet, there is no loss.
Always is gain, the ego of donor.
04.12.2001, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Hospital Ship
There is a green-lit hospital ship,
Green, with a crimson cross,
Lazily swaying there in the bay,
Lazily bearing my friend away,
Leaving me dull-sensed loss.
Green-lit, red-lit hospital ship,
Numb is my heart, but you carelessly dip
There in the drift of the bay.
There is a green-lit hospital ship,
Dim as the distance grows,
Speedily steaming out of the bay,
Speedily bearing my friend away
Into the orange-rose.
Green-lit, red-lit hospital ship,
Dim are my eyes, but you heedlessly slip
Out of their sight from the bay.
There was a green-lit hospital ship,
Green, with a blood-red cross,
Lazily swaying there in the bay,
But it went out with the light of the day -
Out where the white seas toss.
Green-lit, red-lit hospital ship,
Cold are my hands and trembling my lip:
Did you make home from the bay?
poem by W.H. Littlejohn
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Hospital Food
Coming down through the alley
Trying to walk without a sound
It doesnt really matter
cause there aint no one around
Tip toe through the alley and
Tip toe through your life
You still got it coming
Be it gun be it knife
Next thing you know
Youre eating hospital food
Karaoke castration
Take the wasp alive
Hes gonna sting you anyway
And take you to the hive
Yesterday was suckin and
Tomorrows looking bad
Who knew that today
Was the only thing I had
Hospital food
Want some hospital food
Hospital food
Delicious hospital food
In your tribute album to the world
You must never forget
To sing the one about the cat
Whos always getting wet
He always got a problem
Hes a very bitter dude
And now hes complaining
About his hospital food
Hospital food
Its gonna help the medicine go down
Want some hospital food
Gonna take a walk without a sound
A little hospital food
Helps the spoonful of sugar come up
I want some hospital food
In your blender and in my cup
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poet I Am', And 'The Poet I Am Not
The poet I am, and the poet I am not
‘The poet I am’ says
To ‘the poet I am not’,
‘Why can’t I be more like you? ’
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Because you are not good enough’
And ‘the poet I am’ begins to cry,
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Real poets cry for more meaningful things’
And ‘the poet I am’ says ‘I am who I am and what I will be means so much to me. But still I am not the poet I wanted to be’.
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Exactly. Were you less concerned with who you are and more concerned with others you might be a bit more of a poet than you are now.’
And ‘the poet I am’ is silent.
And ‘the poet I am not’is somewhere else being someone else
That ‘the poet I am and the poet I am not’ cannot see or dream.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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To Recapture That Innocence Of Loved Missed
To recapture that innocence of loved missed,
May be easier done by a poet doing it.
But when a poet isn't sitting to compose words of love...
The wish for it may be stronger than words can express.
Since words may touch emotions.
But to caress one's flesh...
In an anticipated mutual acceptance,
Is what the poet envisions as best.
For those who are poets,
In a loneliness desired to forget.
Or deny to mask in alibis.
And a poet can decide,
Whether to expose this or hide!
'So what have you chosen to do? '
Lie.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Morning Sunshine
This poet is so seductive
This poet is now strange to me
This poet is so bold
This little girl doesn't want to see
The little girl has known this poet
ever since
But the little girl is already
tired of this poet
She just wants to play.
Not any passing minute
She hasn't have
any word of
allegory
metonymy and
simile
Take me away from this poet yet
the little girl must empty first
the words of this poet
Before she is free to play
in the morning sunshine
and go away from this busy poet
Do you think I'm too young to see?
Do you agree?
This poet won't let me
play out in the middle of the rain
This poet won't let me
see the afternoon sway
This poet won't let me
see the morning gay
Let me see the Morning Sunshine
Let me see!
But this poet
Won't let me
I'll just watch t.v
and sing
her poetry
poem by Mary Jesusa Villegas
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Talisman
The studs worn by her are more fortunate
Than their donor, with their sanctity
To touch her. What sensation can they feel?
The donor can feel but is barred to touch.
No matter.
It is a talisman,
for her he has given.
23.05.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Giving is pleasure.
The donor is happier than the recipient
As his hands place above the recipient’s..
Donor’s ego and recipient’s hands are full.
The giver remembers longer though.
23.03.2001
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Poet
POET
He is a poet
When his thoughts survey
What distressed millions flay
He is a poet
When his works slay
Every social evil sway
He is a poet
When his words relay
What virtuous people say
He is a poet
When his expressions lay
Portraits on brains’ gray
Sathya….
poem by Sathya Narayana
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Don't
Don't fall in love with a poet
for they will melt your heart
and there is no escape, you see
for romance is their art.
Don't try to vie with a poet
for words trip from their mouths
as easily as quick silver
that lines the darkest clouds.
Don't tell a poet your secrets
for very soon you'll see,
they'll write them as a metaphor
upon a paper sea.
Don't make a stance with a poet
for you don't stand a chance
they'll sway you with emotions
and words that sweetly dance.
Don't fall in love with a poet,
however they endear,
for strong romantic gestures
will conjure flowing tears.
Don't fall in love with a poet
for life will surely change
but oh how happy you will be
to have it rearranged.
poem by Ruth Walters
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This Poet Is Always Beside You
You are reading my poem but,
This poet is never known;
However, this poet is always beside you.
I am on your lips and,
I am in your mouth;
I am in your heart and,
I am in your mind;
Because, this poet is always beisde you.
This poet writes and others read,
This poet speaks and others listen,
And this poet is always beside you;
But, this poet is never known.
The works of this poet are on the internet,
And, they are being read by many! !
But, this poet is never known;
However, this poet is always beside you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Poet is free
Poet is free
No grammarian can guide the poet
Do not tell before a poet you are dare
And I know there are so many grammarians
With so many grammars
The poet is one with truth with love
All the grammars old middle modern
Are of no use for a poet
At the time of poet's thought
Poet's love poet's poetry
Nobody can search research poet's history
Nobody can dare to described poet
Poet can create his own language
His own grammar and it does not bother the poet
Whether you like it or not
Leave the poet on his own way
It is better you to read him love him
If you are alive.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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One Unto The Other
What can a poet do for you?
Open up your heart
to let the sunshine through.
What can a poet say to you?
Words so powerful
to put your past in review.
What can a poet give to you?
A moment of prayer
to make you feel brand new.
What can a poet make alive in you?
A picture of your soul
as it comes into view.
What can you give the poet you read?
The chance to reach you
with something you need.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I'm A Poet
I'm a Poet
A twister of words
I open a world unseen to others
I bring meaning to the meaningless
I use words as my weapon
It's a double edged sword
I can bring beauty to a slum land
Horror to a smile
I can give life to the dead
Immorality to a flower
Then destroy it in the next line
I'm a poet
A rhymer of words
I see the unseen
And create new worlds
I am an artist of the written
A magician of the pen
I can make words rhyme
Or go free verse
It all depends
On how I feel in that moment
I'm a poet
To the end
poem by Rachel Dowd
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~ Checkmate ~
I sweat
To be a poet
Please wait
I’ll be a poet.
Please wait
Till a date
I’ll be a poet.
Finally of late
Confessing straight
Puzzled by words
I’m checkmate.
For sure I bet
I can’t be a poet! !
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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Some Silence, Some Words
Today somewhere a mirror broke
And a music of end splashed in the pages of time,
Someone lost his meanings in the broken mirror..
And an unending silence flowed
Many things happen silently, , ,
How the silent weeping of the lost meaning wander in the depth of the night, , ,
I unveil the sea of darkness...i find only silence
And the music of the end keeps on splashing around
Life is all about some silence and some words…
Far away a poet was looking for words, .
And a poem was seeking for its understanding, ,
for the heart where words dwell with meanings, ,
As long as they both were away everything was all right...
And when they met, , ,
the poet lamented on the end of words of the poem, , ,
and the poem on the unending silence of the poet, , , , ,
poems are not about understanding....
poet is not about words, , , ,
The POET from the POEM
That lady -
whose eyes can see no ordinary eyes can see,
and desolate winds crying for her name
till truth and lies are all the same;
who knows how she ate the stars at night,
yet left the old moon sleeping in the sky?
Certainly she married that awful death
only not to die.
Out of her hands there came blood,
till blood covered her flesh.
And the blood had life...had sweeter life
till blood became her flesh.
How can you know the poet from the poem,
or sift the melody from its song?
Judge me, for I'll say
that lady -
is the poet and he being the blood, her poem.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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The Poem Is The Poet
THE POEM IS THE POET
The poem is the poet
It tells his story even when he does not intend it to-
It bears his signature even when he forges it-
The poem is the poet-
It reflects his mind his soul-
It cannot be written without what he is
Though he denies what he is to himself-
The poem is the poet
And the poet's contradictions-
It is the mask of his self - expression
And his ultimate definition in words-
When he writes he becomes himself
And when he finishes it
He leaves a part of himself in it for as long as it exists.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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