Well, the great thing for me about poetry is that in good poems the dislocation of words, that is to say, the distance between what they say they're saying and what they are actually saying is at its greatest.
quote by Harry Mathews
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poems About Poems About Poems
Poems about poems about poems-
More poems and more poems and more poems-
Poems poems poems poems poems-
How many poems?
How much poetry
Until there is no poetry at all?
But only 'words' and 'words' and 'words'
Until one goes far away
Where there was never a poem before-
And suddenly hears
“Let there be Light”.
And Poetry perhaps
Is born again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Greatest Poem
Good poems don't rhyme
Great poems don't have rhythm
The greatest poem is not one on paper but said out loud
Good poems are about flowers and puppies
Great poems are about peace and happiness
The greatest poems are about change
What should change.
how it should change.
And who should change.
Most of all the greatest poem is not one about the life you wanted to live
But the one you are living.
poem by Getasew Shumet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is A Habit
writing poems
when you really write poems
everyday and every moment of your life
even when you're in the middle of your
bread and butter eating thing
or even when you are defecating
writing poems becomes a habit
even when you sleep even when you dream
writing poems becomes a part of your system
you eat poetry you vomit poetry
you digest poetry you poo poetry
you breathe poetry you sweat poetry
you love poetry and you live with your poetry
and at the end you die with poetry
and your epitaph says: here lies the poet,
choked with poetry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of Your Knowledge On Poetry
Of your knowledge on poetry you wish me to know
Your three favourites poets Eliot, Whitman and Poe
Though great they may be I regret for to say
That on reading them you won't be laughing all day
It is good of you to honour their renown
But this evening I must say I feel a bit down
And though the poetry of Eliot, Whitman and Poe I even read as a boy
Their meaningful words never filled me with joy
If you wish to talk of poetry talk of something that's happy and light
Like the poems of Pam Ayres they are breezy and bright
Though she is one who is not seen as a poetic great
In her poetry the joy of laughter she create
Why talk to me of serious poets and their poetry today
When the tears from my eyes are not that far away
This evening I do need a good laugh or two
Something I cannot have whilst I'm talking to you.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poetry Movement
My poems are not sacred
Not something beautiful
-I leave for the afterworld to admire
They are but products
of my pen and mind
-To stay true to these is all I aspire
I don't believe in elitistic poetry
or the words of the Few and Great
-It is the Poetry Movement I desire
I'd like to scream over the rooftops
'Poetry to the people, Poetry of the masses'
-But I know my written words will reach further and higher
poem by Agnes Török
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All These Poems About Poems
All these poems about poems
Where do they lead?
The world is so rich in so many other things
Write poems about them.
At twilight I look out
At strangers walking
To do their errands of preparation
for Sukkot.
A poem should have some Beauty in it
And not just be an effort at recording observations-
The scarlet bright flowers rage at me from the distance
I cannot translate their Beauty to words -
There is so much I have seen
And so much I will never write –
And so many Poems beyond my Imagination.
All these poems about my failing at poetry
And about translating the Beauty of the world to words-
This is a poem I not know how to properly finish.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sonnet: Future of Poetry
Poems I thought had good rhythm and Rhyme,
And a moral good at the end of each;
Good Poems I thought should the test of time,
And remained well within the masses’ reach.
Poems I thought had nice music in them,
With apt words placed in right place in each case;
It was a time for Poetry’s Anthem;
Alas, the art is in for a rat-race!
Modern Poetry that is being writ,
From Prose is hard to ever from it sift;
Slang, vulgarities somehow find a place;
’Tis doomsday for poetry at this pace!
Turned has the Wheel of Time almost fully;
’Tis time to draw water with the pulley!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Poems Came Back To Me / As Rhythms Without Sounds
My poems came back to me
as rhythms without sounds
Imitations of anothers music
Falling down and down
Like winter snow
To whitening ground-
My poems came back to me
As distant whispers of other destinies
Flights from deeper spaces
Mankind has not yet surmised
They were somewhere in the distance of distance
Beyond all distance
In the mystical language
Only Wisdom heard
Though it had no words of its own-
Only ‘now’ and ‘more’ and ‘dreams of another century’
And I, I with all these confusing words
Wondering if my friend would ever be sane again
And why God does it this way
While I in my writing play and play again
Bringing my own rhythms back
And making poetry my own small happy game
Which I write and I write
Without memory.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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These Are The Poems That Only I Am
THESE ARE THE POEMS THAT ONLY I AM
These are the poems that only I am
They are not the greatest poems
But they are the poems that only I am
I would have them be more than they are
But they are not-
They are what I have
What I can give
Not the best
Not the greatest
Not the ones which will give greatest delight and greatest insight and greatest beauty and greatest- anything
They are what I am -
How modest of me to be so disappointed with what I am
And all I am not.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On A Famed Poet
Forgive me if his greatness I cannot seem to note
His poems never rhyme but he is a famed poet
By literary experts considered to be knowledgeable and wise
And for his poems he has won many a prize.
Though poetry is not very popular today
The poet of the poetry lovers the experts do say
In University literary magazines students his verses read
And they all agree he's a fine poet indeed.
Of poets and poetry I must confess so little I know
My favourites old rhymers from ages ago
On the poetry I do not like most experts agree
That it is well written and quite good poetry.
Forgive me if the worth in his verse I can't see
His non rhyming poetry does nothing for me
Of reading blank verse I do quickly grow tired
My truth is by such stuff I do not feel inspired.
The experts on his poetry great interest show
And his stature as a poet only seems to grow
Of him great things are written and great things we hear
And good luck to him on his literary career.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The History Poems Have Not Been Written
The history poems have not been written
The poems after Milosz
The Wallace Stevens poems will never be written
I can’t come close
I have tried the Blake poems
But of course I am not near them either
I would like to the ironic intellectual poems
I might be able to do them
I could do a kind of surrealistic association mind poem a prose poem
But I don’t like that very much
The poems of Jerusalem have not been good enough
Poems of propaganda are awkward and unacceptable
The small poems that tell of my life
They are for me the chance at real poetry
And I will continue as best I can with them
The American poems I have not yet found the idiom for
I can be epigrammatic in Emerson Thoreau fashion
But not with the hard New England observing eye
Borges poems I love
And the stories of mind and literature
Making the drama of a life of a storyteller
Interest me
But I doubt I could truly do them well
Imitation can only take one so far
And through it one may lose one’s way entirely
I can really do only what I am
Not the Dickinson poems nor the Hopkins poems nor the Wordsworth poems nor the Keats poems nor the Amichai poems nor the poems of many others whose poetry I love
The Biblical poems have been tried
The poems of cosmic and scientific reflection
I could try to improve them
There are too many different kinds of poems to write
And I cannot write almost all of them
This is another poem about poems and poetry
I have written many for a long time now
Perhaps I need to go elsewhere and write in a new way
A way I have not dreamed or even remotely understood possible before.
The poems of the unknown poetry await me
I will go on but I am not sure now I know in which wa
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wherever I Go There Are Poems
WHEREVER I GO THERE ARE POEMS
Wherever I go there are poems
Whatever I see is poetry
Poems are everywhere in me
And poetry is who I am -
This feeling in words
That lifts and inspires endlessly
And makes all of life
A gentle happiness-
When it is-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Deceased Poets Of Nature
Such beautiful poems to Nature they did write
The poetry we love for to read and recite
May they rest in peace now where-ever they lay
The deceased poets of Nature their poems live today
They glorified Nature and her praises they sung
And though they may be long dead their poems remain young
the poets of the land and the poets of the sea
In their beautiful poetry their greatness we do see
Their poems and their songs I loved as a boy
And their poems and their songs I will always enjoy
The beauty of Nature they did celebrate
And beauty in their words they loved to create.
Great insights of Nature from them we did gain
The beauty of their words with us does remain
We loved them for their poems in decades long gone
The deceased poets of Nature their poems living on.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Write Poetry
I write not poetry for the poor
for tears from their swelled up eyes
smudge and erase my words,
I write poetry not for the rich
for the splotches from their fat and cheese
hide my lines of wise,
I write poetry for not men to read
for in their skirmishes, poems are trashes
like beans spilled in pond full of slush,
I write poetry for the men not to read
for poems are little words, little music
little cry that the men cant touch or destroy,
poem by Saranyan Bee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Fate of Top Poems!
Past poets were remarkable by their poems only;
But present poets are made remarkable by others!
Poetry of the past are no doubt top poems ever;
But poetry of the top are not listed in top poems!
Becoming top poets how can theirs have no place
Among the top poems of the poetry list? I wonder!
Touch stone of the top poems depends on merit
But not by the supports of friends for fun ever!
Poems of lasting value only can become classic;
But poems of no merit also have become classic!
Poetry of the past are romantic and also classic
But poetry of the present are neither but modern!
What is the yardstick to select poems as top ones -
Just support of some but not merit and meaning?
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poems Went Away
THE POEMS WENT AWAY
The poems went away.
Nothing inside.
An empty will for poetry
Forcing words on the page,
Words without music
Without resonance
Without great implication
Meaning.
Write, write, write
Lest you die.
And the words themselves
A kind of desperate uphill catching of breath
On the page.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Quiet Rap for Poetry Teachers
Words, they ‘mean’ – just, what they do;
and a poem means – just what it does;
if it doesn’t do a single thing for you –
that’s it, for now; let’s cut the fuzz…
it may be called ‘the greatest’ poem;
it may be utterly true;
but if it doesn’t do one little thing for you -
just put it aside for another time;
and let's all rap'n'clap this memorable rhyme:
'poems ‘ mean’ – simply – what they DO…
(1,2,3, and...) ...for ME..(5,6..) ......for YOU! '....
and that’s the end of my poetic beef –
I hope you find that some relief..
so rap it with me, all of you:
“ POEMS MEAN – JUST WHAT THEY DO! ! “
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poetry Of Confession
THE POETRY OF CONFESSION
The poetry of confession -
The poetry of self- indulgence-
The poetry of the ‘wretch con-centered all in self’-
The poetry of moods and feelings-
Of all ideas only as they relate to the poet himself-
The poetry of desperation-
The poetry of need-
The poetry of urgency -
And serving the poet first-
Not enough of the world
Not enough of others- of other perspectives
Not formal and disciplined enough-
The poetry which is not crafted and polished
The poetry in which the need of the poet
Is more central than the quality of the poetry –
The poetry which may be too selfish to be good-
Whose moral failure makes more prominent its aesthetic flaws-
The poetry which is not so good
And not great
But quite banal and commonplace –
A poet can give his life to his poetry
And that still be nothing at all-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem To A Dying Man
I see you in the synagogue almost each night now-
I have seen so many in the condition you are in now-
The frailty, the thinness, the cough,
The intense concentration required to do the smallest thing,
The great difficulty in small motion-
Like most of them you are a good man
Worked hard all your life
Raised a family
Knew dislocation and suffering
Struggled for survival
Made a new life after the old world collapsed-
A good man-
I see you now
My heart goes out to you-
It’s the human condition after all
Living and dying-
And who am I to do anything about it?
I exchange a few words with you
To not leave you alone with the night
We go our separate ways -
My heart goes out to you
But what am I to do?
This is the human condition
And will happen in one way or other
To all of us-
I hate it-
I hate to see your suffering
But this is what we are
And I can do nothing about it.
A few words in the night
And then gone.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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