In the past, poetry came in the form of spells and chants used to effect change.
quote by John Barton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry in Motion
Poetry is like the ocean
Poetry in Motion
Poetry is like a potion
Poetry in Motion
Poetry is like an explosion
Poetry in Motion
Poetry is like some soothing lotion
Poetry in Motion
Poetry is a form of devotion
Poetry in Motion
Poetry represents emotion
Poetry in Motion
poem by Yeremiah Hardt
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That Book Of Poetry....
there is no need
to pay
a semester of poetry
from any
teacher of poetry
who teaches whom?
can poetry be taught?
can poetry have
a dictated form?
no one teaches whom
and it cannot be taught
neither can it have a form
for poetry is here
deep in the heart of man
embedded in the mind
felt and then
whether you like it or not
becomes written
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An act of poetry
Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry
A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art
Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation
Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:
The pen be our salvation.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The chance to change
There are some things I would like to change
But what are they? It’s hard to say
The chain reaction, and domino effect
Would change the image, the mirror reflects?
If I change the past and the things I’ve done
It would change the person that I’ve become
Sure there are things that I regret
Some people I would rather not have met
But if I remove them all, from my life
I may have not become, a mother a wife
Although my marriage didn’t last
It’s not something I’d erase from my past
If I was to choose a different path
I would never have heard my children laugh
That, I am not willing to change
That will have to remain the same.
So I think I’ll keep things the way they are
Why dream of change? When I’ve made it this far
I won’t regret choosing this path
I’ll keep the chance to hear my children laugh
poem by Fallen Angel
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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
poem by Mary Wismer
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Poets and Poetry
Poets love writing poetry Poetry releases there feelings there are all kinds of poetry, but poetry is in all life nothing can change that. Poets and Poetry is always around us this poetry is about poetry so you decide if you want poetry in your life.
poem by Jeeva Premachandran
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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!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Time Is Funny
Past times are strange
Sometimes funny
Sometimes sad
The past
Brings change of views
Change of ideas
Change of heart
But sometimes
The wounds of the past
Never heal
Never leave
The past is strange
And doesn’t change
Never
Change
poem by Missy Lynn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.
Poetry...Poetry...
poem by Akash Agrawal
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Poetry On The Chin
You gouged my mind's eye,
Tantalised all inner thought,
Shocked from unknown angles;
Sold me, told me cold,
Unfolded, moulded;
Shouldered any harbouring
Of empty morals.
You spun me round; undressed -
Pestered me with background riddle -
Piffle came to gleaning meaning.
And you stripped out prejudice - for none
Must exist in poetry,
Lest you close up an open mind
And f**k up as reader;
Lest your heart is not a bleeder -
It has to be - let it flush out
Upon your sleeve.
You lay apart my thinking brain
And let in the literary pickings of a
Great poetic phallus.
Yes, poetry can be callous.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Poetry is nature
Poetry is nature,
Poetry is revelation,
Poetry is human,
Poetry is divine.
Unveiling the countrified encounters,
the evolution of the cockroach
and the mythical cactus on the arid
the front and the end;
breaking open the activities
into nature.
The words in the ink
linking present and past
to forecast the prerequisite future.
The revealed talks of the heartbeats
and restoration of tensed souls.
Poetry is nature,
Poetry is expression,
Poetry is in man,
Poetry is divine.
poem by Oyehan Opeyemi Akinkunmi
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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!
poem by Ramesh T A
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He's Bothered Again!
Where are they?
Do they have him?
Will they know?
And troubled is he
Disturbed is he
Am I troubled?
How much bothered can his soul get?
Bothered about his own life
Bothered about bothering about his life
Bothered about wealth
Bothered about bothering about wealth
And weaker and weaker he is as the day go by
And worse still shall be his story
Because he is bothered about nature
And things in it
But he is never bothered about aiding nature
Or the things in it
Such person,
I am bothered about
Because he bothers to effect no change
And bothers that he hasn't effected a change
And why he did not effect any change
But not how he could effect such change
He also bothers about those who aren't bothered
He bothers for them
His stupidity is the source of their livelihood
He bothers why they do not bother
He bothers about those who effect changes
He bothers how long it took for such change
He bothers the risk taken
He never bothers how they do it
But he bothers if they were a bandit
And everyday, he keeps bothering
And knows not that he bothers his life
And his health
And his sanity
But those who bother aren't stupid
Except if they bother like he does
poem by Ivan Chizurum Ezeigbo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Definition of Poetry by a 15 yr old
Poetry does not need a meaning or defintion.
Poetry is how the reader reads it,
Poetry is how the poet writes it.
Poetry is real,
Poetry is fake,
Poetry is everything,
Poetry is fate.
Poetry is rythm.
Poetry can ryme.
Poetry is anything, I make it mine.
poem by Eric Graham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you go into a bar in most places in America and even say the word poetry, you'll probably get beaten up. But poetry is a really strong, beautiful form to me, and a lot of innovation in language comes from poetry.
quote by Jim Jarmusch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry Is
poetry is what the soul wants
poetry is infinite sound that taunts
poetry is strength of ones spirit
poetry is the powerful truth within it
poetry is love and hate
poetry is what makes you stop wait and appreciate
poetry is something you should die for
poetry is what makes you dropp to the floor
poetry is put up randomly
poetry is, well, simply poetry
poem by Daniel Romero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry is the Divine Part of Man
Poetry haters love to make fun of the touchy-feely stuff
as though that defined who or what poetry is.
Poetry is the last time the sun gets reflected
in somebody's eyes, when they're saying goodbye-
maybe for forever.
And it's that first dropp of rain, touches the new brides veil,
blesses her; as she's lifting it off her face
for the first time, after being kissed in the marriage ceremony.
And poetry might be that bubble,
over the sink.. keeps floating away, fully intact;
even though all the laws of physics and gravity may be saying
it ought not be able to go on existing;
And poetry in motion
is a baby, trying to walk and falling down
again and again;
refusing to give up, surrender
less painful though that might be.
And poetry could even be your hand over my mouth,
because you know that I can never really say
what I am trying so hard to say;
as there's another form of secret communication
connects soul directly to soul,
without confusing or complicated words.
And that is some of the invisible poetry,
lives in the eyes, the hands; the heart of the mind;
and all the hidden, inner recesses of a human being; and even though
something may be a form of poetry for one; it may not be for another.
Finally, if you balled up the emotions together, and then just threw them up
into the open air, not knowing where they might come down, or even if;
this too, could be one of the purest forms of poetry.
My words could go on flowing forever, like a stream, and that could be poetry;
or they might stop without warning and
poem by Patti Masterman
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Poetry
Poetry.......
Poetry defines me
Poetry.......
A place where you be you and I'll be me.
Poetry.......
We are best friends for eternity.
My Poetry.......
Is the daughter of my emotion,
There I've said it, no need to interpret the connection.
Poetry.......
Where my pen and paper are sealed with a kiss,
So easy to write for my mind is a bliss.
Poetry.......
Poetry has multiple meanings,
An indescribable feeling when I realize others understand them.
My Poetry.......
It just comes natural to me.
My Poetry.......
Is out there, , , , , away from exile,
And style of writing is very versatile.
Poetry.......Poetry.......
P oetry.......
It speaks out to me.
poem by Anita Khelawan
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New Poem for J
Poetry Still is my Love, and Song is She,
Glowing heart-bright,
Shining golden-bronze,
So close to where we started,
So long since our beginnings.
That she still loves Is my greatest wonder,
That we hold fast is my constant joy.
Sorrows and giggles,
Hugs and pains we've shared.
Dreams and fears,
Gaiety and doldrums, too.
Still we look forward,
almost always forward, never straight ;)
Times change, and Places change,
Faiths change, and Faces change,
Minds change and Lives change.
'Le plus que ca change...'
But this is unchanging: Song is my Love, and Poetry is she.
rewritten 3/27/03
poem by Gabrielle Ciarann Roniyah Baer
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The subject of Finnish poetry ought to have a special interest for the Japanese student, if only for the reason that Finnish poetry comes more closely in many respects to Japanese poetry than any other form of Western poetry.
quote by Lafcadio Hearn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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