Wallace Stevens

In poetry, you must love the words, the ideas and the images and rhythms with all your capacity to love anything at all.

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Potential Poetry!

Love has no fear whatsoever in the world;
Poet does all by his love of all matters here;
Poetry is inspiring words of poet for all!

What's not possible by poetry is nothing!
Impossible is expressed in possible words
Making unknown known by poetry only!

Forms and style are poets own creations;
Poetry is ever new in expression of ideas
Inspiring all to be enthusiastic, enlightened!

Love of Nature, life, beauty and love poetry
Explores always deep to express truth new!
Poets are gods of Earth to men to new realm!

Poetry briefly converges all in a nutshell
As powerful as atomic energy in control!

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Why Poetry?

'what is in poetry? 'sometimes you ask me,

'you can always love me without poetry,
why bother about words?
your kiss is enough,
what is the use of the metaphors?
we can always make love all through the night
and words become all too useless
and images become too superfluous' you ask more that what i can
muster to answer.

And this i say:

'i agree, poetry is is useless but like the monk who was asked
one day about something that he does
like sweeping the floor
like climbing the stairs
like praying and contemplating...'

let me say
'we have poetry because they are there to be written'

my heart smiles.

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18 Definitions Of Poetry

1) Poetry is what is Beautiful in words –
2) Poetry is the deepest feeling words can tell
3) Poetry is the soul of each one of us
4) Poetry is the morning light after the longest night
5) Poetry is a dream of dreams in a world that needs dreams to be
beautiful
6) Poetry is the Search for God and the Love of God in all holy writing
7) Poetry is Reality itself when it is doing what it should
8) Poetry is you and me and all of us when we are kind to each other
9) Poetry is more than we can say or know- deeper than the deepest
silence and quieter also
10) Poetry is the place we go to in ourselves when we need to cry out loud
11) Poetry is Love words of love and the first spring of the young lovers first
song
12) Poetry is all we are when our minds are right and strong
13) Poetry is what saves us from all the other words
14) Poetry is what ceases to exist when Cruelty comes
15) Poetry is Love and Blessing and Kindness again
16) Poetry cuts through the icy sea within and sends chills down the spine
17) Poetry is what is recollected in tranquility but also tried and tossed in
tempest on the most difficult seas
18) Poetry is open to more than what it has been It is what others have not yet created and will so long as we are human and in search of the Sublime

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Poetry Is All In One!

Passion for poetry is insatiable!
Poetry gives pleasure nothing can!
Poetry is many subjects under one roof!
Poetry never bores to write and read ever!
Poetry is a compression of many ideas in a nut shell!
Poetry displays power of pen to capture men ever!
Poetry captures as photo castles built in air!
Poetry is spontaneous over flow of ides!
Poetry flows free if extemporary!
Poetry is prolific words sure!
Poetry is a thing of joy!
Poetry is beauty!
Poetry is witty!
Poetry cheers!

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Poetry In The Closets

Poetry in the closets,
words are all stuffed away,
Open the closet door once more
so the words can say

'Listen friend and catch the thoughts
and make them come to bear.
Don't leave them where they can't be heard
for poetry takes you where
you fall in love with words again
like no prose itself can do.'
It opens your mind to brand new ideas
and then when you're through
you'll say

'Poetry in the closets
come out where you belong.
Take your proper place once more
beside each touching song.'

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My Love For Poetry

You can take the smile from me
And leave me alone to frown
You can walk away and forget
But you'll never bring this down
My Love For Poetry
Throw those shadows as you do
And tell me there's more to life
You see you will never know
The true love I know is right
My Love For Poetry
There is no greater love you see
It speaks for me from inside
You can shake your head and go
Because this love will never die
My Love For Poetry
Yes the greatest love of all
Is the words I can express
You can't take that from me
No matter in life or in death
My Love For Poetry

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Ode To Poetry

Poetry is the best thing since coming out of the womb
Because if I didn't come out of the womb
I wouldn't know about poetry

Poetry's in motion like a freight train
Moving it's words through interpretation
By what we see from what one has written
It can be raw or it can have finesse
Either way it is art

The art of thought
And the art of language
Words speaking of twisted pains
And unraveling beauties
Forgotten love
Or someones duty

I must proclaim my love for poetry
And for the love of everyone else's
Because poetry is much better
Than almost anything else

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Taking A Glance At You

taking a glance at you
is poetry in itself, by itself and for itself.

there are words in my eyes
they speak in silence. They long to tell you what i feel.

there are hands on my lips. There are fingers there.
They long to go near you and kiss your lips too.

i see you as words too. Your eyes are images of my
own happiness. Your lips are shaping the shapes of ships
and they have sails to take me away to ecstacies.

i feel you as words of love, and lust and desire insatiable.
my fingers want to read every syllable in your face.

you have always been my poem.And there are so many of you
in all of them.

words, and images, and ecstacies. faces and compositions.
i love all of them. And this time i take a glance again.
at you. this poem. this is you. Believe me.

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A Big Or Brief Poetry......!

Big or brief, what is poetry?
Poetry is......
Creating beauty out of blemish,
Making order out of disorder,
Producing meaning out of musical words,
Creating Universal truth out of trivialities,
Arranging points out of less known facts!

Is poetry just making rhythm and rhyme
Without meaning, life, force and taste,
Without free flowing musical words,
Without words of music, beauty, fun?

Poetry is free flowing river of words
With full of images, lively and lovely,
Transporting from this world to that world
Forgetting himself and readers here!

Just end rhyme is not enough to make it so;
Internal rhymes make music in rhythm
Making all enjoy music, meaning and ideas!

Poetry is the medium to say complex things
Not possible to say in other forms of language,
Saying unknown things using known things;
It is sound, substance, message and meaning!
And many more matters to many men in the world!

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Unlimited Capacity For Love

The ends not in sight, its gone way too far,
This could turn our another unwinning war,
It wasnt inherited, certainly not a joke,
So many human hearts, hanging in hope,
Unlimited capacity for love,
Unlimited capacity for love.
And now I must add another to love in my life,
Its one thing to say, to do is another,
If Im capable of adapting without pressured expense,
In a schizoid society in a classic moral sense,
Unlimited capacity for love,
Umlimited capacity for love.
How young I am now, stop counting the weeks,
Were safe from the vois, where theyre still counting sheep,
Put the phone to the floor, youll hear my heart beat,
Some people get married, but Ill never chat,
Unlimited capacity for love,
Unlimited capacity for love.
The ends not in sight, its gone way too far,
This could turn our another unwinning war,
It wasnt inherited, certainly not a joke,
So many human hearts, hanging in hope,
Unlimited capacity for love. (repeat, fade)

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My poems is not Poetry

My Poems are not Poetry
Poetry rhythm is essential part
Communicative act of rhythms
Where words created music
An effect on the reader’s and listener
Words beginning with the same letter
And achieve a poetically effect.

My Poems has no rhythms
For the first time I don’t know
What to say and how to show.
Many words is not my style
Let me say, I like your smile
I don’t think I should like you,
Unfortunately I do.

I'm not sure now how to write
I lost my idea how, where words
Are used in away similar
Creating Music, where you find
Languages of rhymes

I write Prose but not Poetry
Using a regular rhythm
Where vast majority
Of languages spoken and written.

I try to be a barn, the muses were believed and inspire
I try to hard without success,
you already know, I guess.
Anyhow, it doesn’t matter
Usually I do not write
Things like this, I never tried,
for the first time I don’t know
what these lines should say or show.

Allegory, metaphor equated
Meaning lie outside the narrative
Acrostic phase when read together
Alliteration words same letter for poetical effect
Satire is a form of humour
Limerick is a short humorous poem.
And Honestly, I don’t regret
Things I did and words I said.

7. January 2008

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Poetry, That's What I Write

Parody of the classic song Money, That's What I Want

The best words on the page are here
Teaching you a hell of a lot more about life
Then just the birds and bees
Now you know words of magic
Words of wisdom
Given birth
Right here, right now
Oh, yes
Poetry, that's what I write

My wicked writing should give you such a thrill
So don't be shy
Go ahead and click on this link right here
My poetry won't pay your bills, no
But I can promise to give you some kinky thrills
Now you know
Poetry, that's what I write
Bright and beautiful
Perfect as can be
Poetry, that's what I write
Oh yeah baby
Poetry
Poetry, that's what I write

My poetry is the best
It's true
If you don't agree then I don't need you
You can kiss my sass
Now you know
Now you better read it
Oh yeah baby

Poetry, that's what I like
Poetry
Oh yes
Poetry, that's what I love
Poetry, that's what I write
Whoa

My poetry is the best
It's true
If you don't agree then I don't need you
You can kiss my sass
Now you know
Now you better read it
Oh yeah baby

Well, now read my poetry
Ooooh, oooh yeah my poetry
Read my
Love my
Poetry, oh yeah that's what I like
What I love
Oh yeah baby
Poetry, that's what I write
Yeah

2008 Ramona Thompson

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The Precious Gift Of Poetry!

Yes, poetry's a wondrous gift, vivacious lines of verse
That help to give the heart a lift with rhythms to rehearse!
When spoken, it's a memory to bless the ears as well,
The incantations gently weave their very special spell!

Encapsulating captured words that fill the air above,
All circling high like tame young birds to help spin yarns of love!
At best, the rhythms carry you into the writer's realm
Where he directs them ever new, the captain at the helm!

Perhaps across calm seas that soothe the soul in need of rest...
Or stretching forth and thus improve with thoughts so full of zest!
Whatever words are brought to bear, mid this realm and the next,
The poet strives and thus takes care, creative muscles flexed!

Perhaps the midnight oil's burned, perhaps there's little strain
And yet the poet's rarely spurned when there's so much to gain!
Of all the blessings God bestows to aid us as 'Mankind',
It's poetry that overflows from mind to mind to mind!

If only we'd all try to write, we wouldn't waste the ink!
We'd be more noble, more polite, investing time to think!
We'd mull things over in our hearts, we'd take the time to see
One of the greatest of the arts is precious poetry!

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Being A Poet

I find that I can compose a poem best,
When I am out walking, or am at rest.
When I am lying in my bed at night,
I think about what I am able to write.

Or when I’m out walking, or sat on a train,
Words and ideas, all rush round my brain.
Sometimes, ideas just appear in my head,
Or may be a result of something I’ve read.

At fellow passengers, on a train, I take a look;
Some chatter away, while others read a book.
But, me, I’m sat there, quietly composing verse;
With dozens of ideas, my creative mind bursts.

If I compose lines on my way into town,
I repeat them over, until I write them down;
If they are not written down straightaway,
Around my mind, other thoughts then play.

There are many things which inspire me to write,
Such as animals, the seasons, and the sky at night.
If I try to force ideas, they just do not flow;
The poem itself, I find, just will not grow.

I like to write on a layperson’s level;
In too much information, I do not revel.
Having chosen a decent subject or idea,
I then need to get my brain in to gear.

Of a subject, I like to consider all of the aspects,
But I keep my writing simple; not too complex.
To make a poem rhyme, words I may change,
But I only use words that are within my range.

In using unfamiliar words, I can see no point;
A nice poem, tricky words, can really disjoint.
Words, within my head, I keep batting around,
Until the perfect combination, is finally found.

With poetry, I really love the creative process,
But over time, I’ve become slightly obsessed.
Sometimes I find myself talking in rhyme;
That I am a poet, this must be a sure sign.

Of my finished poems, I often feel proud;
One day, I’ll be brave and read them aloud.
Into my swirling head, ideas continue to pop;
I love writing poetry and never want to stop!

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Poetry

Poetry....
.... are words that create beauty
Poetry....
.... are words that are that are illusions of
the Imagination
Poetry....
.... is the art of saying nothing to saying everything Poetry....
.... is like a marriage that are bonded together
to produce bonded together hatred or love Poetry....
.....is a way of how a poet views the world

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All Embracing Poetry!

What kind of poetry does engage all complete?
Only love between man and woman in romance?
Only beauty of Nature in all its splendour forever?
Only philosophic ideas enriched in poems ever?
Only journalism, philosophy and poem altogether?
Only spiritual ideas of God or Universe in a new way?

So many questions crop up every day to find one
Poetry that will absorb all forever and enrich mind!
Have anyone discovered such poetry so far...?

Divinity present in Nature kindling romance of
Love of high state of mind perhaps may do so ever!
Comprising of all ingredients I try often to create
Poetry of an irresistible kind for all to consume ever!
Journalism, philosophy and poem in one I feel better!

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I Dont Write Poetry!

i dont write poetry...
i sweat poetry, i drink poetry,
i breathe poetry, i make love to poetry,
i fight poetry, i eat poetry,
i bleed poetry, i crap poetry...
too often i betray poetry,
sometimes i dropp poetry.
once i tripped over poetry,
got angry and kicked poetry.
i rocked poetry on a sleepless night,
i buried poetry on the hill...
i lived poetry, for i am poetry...

no, i dont write poetry,
but poetry writes me!

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Songs Sing 05/11/2009

I love my family, I love my kids, I love
seeing their faces and hearing their
voices and holding them

I love hubby and all his schemes and
his plans for improvement and the way
he forgives

I love my mother and her hare-brained
ideas, I love my father and his notes
and his songs

I love my sister and her belligerence, I
love my poet friend who creates dreams
fragile and sweet

I love my colleagues who work so valiantly
design new forms and always help me to
conquer my fears

I love my brother and his love for words,
I love it when he cracks his whip
so that terms

Line up for him, I love his dismissal of things
that cannot be known by the senses and
sibling understanding

Of the games that I play; I love that we share
genes so that he understands everything I say
when I am confused

I love this beautiful world of music and sounds,
symbols and ideas, I love the love that I feel
for everyone

And most of all, I love the love they give me
when they laugh at my ideas, I love
eyes that are happy

I love songs that sing in my ears….

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Images

I think images are worth repeating
Images repeated from a painting
Images taken from a painting
From a photo worth re-seeing
I love images worth repeating
Project them upon the ceiling
Multiply them with silk screening
See them with a different feeling
Images, oh, images
Images, oh, images
Some say images have no feeling
I think theres a deeper meaning
Mechanical precision or so its seeming
Instigates a cooler feeling
I love multiplicity of screenings
Things born anew display new meanings
I think images are worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, oh, images
Images, images
Im no urban idiot savant
Spewing paint without any order
Im no sphinx, no mystery enigma
What I paint is very ordinary
I dont think Im old or modern
I dont think I think Im thinking
It doesnt matter what Im thinking
Its the images that are worth repeating
And repeating, oh, images
Images
If youre looking for a deeper meaning
Im as deep as this high ceiling
If you think technique is meaning
You might find me very simple
You might think that images boring
Cars and cans and chairs and flowers
You might find me personally boring
Hammer, sickle, mao tse tong
Mao tse tong
Ooohhh, images, images
Images
I think that it bears repeating
The images upon the ceiling
I love images worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, images
Oh, images, oh, images

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This Is Mumbling This Is Rambling

do not care to read me carefully, just skim over
some words that may call your preferential attention.
do not mind the smaller ideas, or the images that
you find hard to imagine. They may not be images
after all but just blotches of my stains, the negligence
of my trembling fingers, the lapses of my brains,
the slip of my tongues, the cliches of humanity,
seeking meaning in the meaninglessness of words.

this is mumbling, this is plain rambling
do not ever mind what i am writing. this is not about you.
or myself, or the society that like sheep simply graze on the grass
not knowing that on the next step is the landmine that kills them,

or why look for the meaning of loneliness in words or lines or poetry.
are you going home tonight? on a train. sit there. look over the window.
see the line of trees, do they shout at you? No.
and move your eyes, as though you are scrolling for names on the
cell phone, like roving camera, you do not have to look that far on the
20th person sitting across the other side.

someone is sitting next to you. listen to his silence.
feel the vibrations of all his problems. try to unmask the cover of his face.
are there words covering his face? none.

or if words cover his face and body, try reading them all silently.
most of the truths are not said. Not even written. You always see them
next to you. Be it on the train, the bus or the plane. Or simply when you
walk along the cemented paths of the park. Here comes another
lost soul. Talk to him. Do not write poetry.

this is mumbling this is plain rumbling. Do not speak poetry.
write them and let them cover your face. That is the best way to speak.

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