""Therefore"" is a word the poet must not know.
quote by Andre Gide
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today... 'The Word
Word of love and the Word made flesh
Word incarnate forever blessed
Word of life and the Word of light
Word of power and Word of might.
Word that was spoken, Word of the Lord
Word of the Law and the Word of God
Word of peace and Word eternal
Word of truth and last Word of all.
Word of wisdom and the Word of healing
Word from heaven, a Word so appealing
Word fulfilling the Word of prophecy
Word of the Spirit and Word of destiny.
Word of exhortation and Word of grace
Word of encouragement and Word of faith
Word of promise and a Word of insight
Word from the beginning and Word of delight.
Word of knowledge and a Word of boldness
Word of peace and the Word of righteousness
Word of the covenant and Word of love
Word of the Father from heaven above.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
The Poet
The poet can only utter the word fine
The poet has to bear the sorrow and the sin.
The poet can only say I am happy
The poet can only say I feel no aches no pain
The poet can only say I am not in loss
The poet can only say I am in the side of only gain.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Body is word
Body is word
You poet say
What to do with this word.
This wordelastic
Puss and pull used
To measure sky with word.
Try to understand
This bodyword
That is redy to go
Beyond this world.
You poet here just to
Cross and act as guard.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poet Loses His Power For Poetry
A POET LOSES HIS POWER FOR POETRY
A poet loses his power for poetry
He can put down words
But they no longer have poetry in them
Something of the feeling of what real poetry is
is gone.
He strives
He writes again and again
He puts words down in the forms and in the shapes his poems usually take
But he has no poetry in him
He has lost what he is
And all he can do
is strive again and again
Word after word
Silence after silence
To hear within himself again
A voice he does not have.
The poet is writing poetry
And it is not poetry
The poet is dead
And he is pretending to be alive
Is this a poem?
Is he a poet
Is he dead?
Is he alive?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Critical Word
The poet must write a sonnet
In praise of a grand and just man.
To meet a deadline at the end of July,
He must begin as soon as he can.
He starts to compose - it's May.
We'll see this is none too soon,
For the lack of one critical word,
The poet has stalled - It's June.
He still lacks the critical word (in July)
To describe the man grand - and just.
The word comes to him now, but too late.
Worse yet, it's a pun - it's au`gust.
poem by Richard von Geldern
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poet Talks To Himself
A poet talks to himself
And hears his own praises
And does not believe them.
A poet talks to himself
And hears a critical word
And knows he is right.
A poet talks to himself
And imagines others are listening
And love his dreams as if they were their own –
A poet talks to himself
And in the talking plays
In many voices -
A poet talks to himself
And in talking to himself
Feels more and more alone -
Where are the holy listeners?
Where is the love which is not absurd?
A poet talks to himself
And prays he is secretly being overheard-
And wonders why God should want words
From a mortal so small.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every poem
Every poem stands
on its own legs
and although
it displays something
of the poet’s soul,
in reality the poet
stands totally free
from it.
Every word and rhyme
and every verse
is totally independent
from who and what
the poet is
and is nothing more
than a verbal painting
of feelings, life, reflections
or any thing
that the poet wants
to express.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The life of a Poet
The poet listens
the poet hears
he writes down
all his fears.
He observes things
that others don't
going to places
that others won't.
Inspired by simple things
like a sound or smell
the poet has lots
of stories to tell.
Even when asleep
his mind isn't at rest
in fact this is the time
it's at it's creative best.
The poet can be a restless soul
his life reflected on the page
some verse can be sweet and mild
then full of anger and rage.
The poet can be mysterious
and write in a strange way
he will say Black is White
and that night is day.
The poet is an artist
but instead of paint it's the word
painters want their work to be seen
but poets just need to be heard.
poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Senses of Poet
Poet is like perfumer
Who distillates his own feeling into fragrant word
Is like farmer
Who grows his seed of thought into beautiful word
Is like mechanic
Who assembles part of idea into harmony word
Is like tailor
Who stitches thread of border into seamless word
Is like patisserie
Who mixes powder of emotion into delicious word
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Word
Find the word, understand the word,
Depend on the word;
The word is heaven and space, the word the earth,
The word the universe.
The word is in our ears, the word is on our tongues,
The word the idol.
The word is the holy book, the word is harmony,
The word is music.
The word is magic, the word the Guru.
The word is the body, the word is the spirit, the word is being,
The word Not-being.
The word is man, the word is woman,
The Worshipped Great.
The word is the seen and unseen, the word is the existent
And the non-existent.
Know the word, says Kabir,
The word is All-powerful.
Sonnet: the Master Poet
’Tis God who inspires in me fire!
He is the Master-Sculptor and Poet!
I play a melody with strings well-set;
God-kindled heart of mine becomes a lyre.
Every poet speaks to God in his mind,
In ways so strange that both can understand;
The Poet is a singer in his band;
To God’s tenets, his songs will always bind,
With time, he communicates very fast;
The Poet takes up every word of His;
And so the poems get very well cast;
As if God gave the poet’s mind- bliss.
To thee belongs my poems, O my Lord!
They are made great byThy divine accord.
3-3-2000
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Not The Poet's Poet But Perhaps The Would- Be- Poet's Would-Be Poet
I AM NOT THE POET’S POET BUT PERHAPS THE WOULD- BE- POETS WOULD – BE –POET
I am not the poet’s poet-
The one poets of name and fame admire-
But perhaps the would- be- poets would be – poet-
Who tries to be a poet
And tries to understand what it means
To love poetry and live by writing it
Even when the world does not recognize me..
.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To change the world
The poet wish
The world be change.
The poet is here
To inspire
To entertain
To challenge.
The poet is here
To change the world
With his pious word.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poet Who No Longer Believes In Himself
THE POET WHO NO LONGER BELIEVES IN HIMSELF
The poet who no longer believes in himself
And writes on anyway-
The poet who is too weak to stop writing-
The poet who has died as a poet,
Before he has as a person-
The poet who may never have lived as a poet-
The old old old schnook,
Still trying to write a poem
And believing he has done it once again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poet Becomes The Poetry
THE POET BECOMES THE POETRY
After years of striving to write Poetry
The Poet becomes the Poetry
No word is not poetry in him
And no silence is not the sound
his own writing makes
Wherever he is
Whatever he does
is Poetry
Mediocre or not
Real or not
Loved or not
Understood or not
The Poet is Poetry
Unable forever to escape
what he Lives.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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