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Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nearer my God to Thee
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee
E'en though it be a cross
That raiseth me,
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Tho' like a wanderer,
The sun gone down,
Darkness be over me,
My rest a stone,
Yet in my dreams I'll be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
There let the way appear,
Steps unto heaven;
All that Thou sendest me
In mercy be given,
Angels to beckon me
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Then with my waking thoughts
Bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs
Bethel I'll raise;
So by my woes to be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Or if, on joyful wing
Cleavihg the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars forgot,
Upward I fly,
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
poem by Sarah Flower Adams
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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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But poetry is a way of language, it is not its subject or its maker's background or interests or hobbies or fixations. It is nearer to utterance than history.
quote by Thomas Lynch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Nearer, my God, to Thee.
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee!
E'en though it be a cross
That raiseth me:
Still all my song shall be
Nearer, my God! to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Though, like the wanderer,
The sun gone down,
Darkness be over me,
My rest a stone;
Yet in my dreams I'd be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Then let the way appear
Steps unto heaven;
All that Thou sendest me
In mercy given:
Angels to beckon me
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Then with my waking thoughts
Bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs
Bethel I'll raise;
So by my woes to be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Or if on joyful wing,
Cleaving the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars forgot,
Upward I fly:
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
poem by Sarah Flower Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I love poetry
What if the world don't recognize poetry?
What if poetry is banned in my country?
What if poetry has no meaning?
What if those who later care can't view my handwriting?
What if my poetry puts me in prison?
For it reveals the truth untold this season!
What if bard's brain is blunt?
And again famished then faint?
For my poetry makes truth to smile
What if in the prison i die?
And maggots dine in my belly
Still i love poetry.
poem by Adesitimi Taiwo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.
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
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 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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0282 A Necessary Art
There's art history, and there's the history of art.
Art history, you can learn anywhere these days;
the history of art's some other, thrilling thing, a life-blood
pumping its heart intensely as if it were a matter
which it is of course, of life and death..
and who will tell you, except those who lived it through,
who will tell you - except perhaps old men;
while the students yawn, stop taking notes,
and wonder if the chick back there
is up for it?
Who will tell you that the truth is savage,
and the world hard earned,
and art, painting, poetry,
a matter of life and death?
Who will tell you, for instance, how after 1945,
when war ended, and 'peace'
was the threat of nuclear annihilation,
the great French artists, who had made
their various accommodations with the occupying power
brought out near ten years' work the world had never seen?
As if archaeologists, searching for the past,
had found instead, the future?
Picasso, Matisse, Leger, Braque - you know the names...
and how Picasso, who never allowed any other artist
to see him at his work, opened his Paris studio
to hordes of American servicemen? Interviewed
in the great French magazine, Cahiers d'Art, in I think
the late 1940s, he said his art was
'une somme des destructions' - a sum of destructions;
and Wallace Stevens, in a lecture at the Met, in 1951,
remembered the phrase, made it his text, and
told the post-war world that painting, as with poetry,
was man's great chance to seek his self - for each of us
to find out who we really are - in ways, we listening
were to assume, which might not always be heard in churches
or from philosophers' petty squabblings..
now today, this may seem a truism put out by slick PR
from auction houses; who can tell you
what it was like to hear that said?
and by so great a poet man?
There's art history, and the history of art.
Who will tell you that the truth is savage
and the world hard earned,
and art, painting, poetry,
a matter of life and death?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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~ His[s]tory ~
History Maker ~ Fossilized Custodian
History Breaker ~ Reckless Bohemian
History Reformer ~ Abortive Artisan
History Seeker ~ Obsessive Varifocalian
History Writer ~ Hyperbolic Historian
History Critique ~ Diplomatic Confucian
History Reader ~ Befuddled Bookman.
Better Opt For ~ Gymnastic Geography
Enjoy Floor Exercise ~ In Poetry.
Won’t You?
If Not Check Cervical Spine
For Etiology Of Vertigo Sign.
==
Glossary: Humbly given for what I tried to express: ~
Varifocalian: Metaphorically used relating to a lens that is graduated to permit any length of vision between near and distant.
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The True Meaning of Poetry!
What is the true
meaning of poetry?
Is it rhyming
words together?
Is it about love?
Is it about
impressing?
No, unlike some,
I have discovered the,
true meaning of poetry!
Poetry is the feelings in your heart!
It's really just your heart on paper!
Poetry can be about anything really,
Anything at all! It can have a certain theme,
Like shoes, a talent, a fantasy, love,
World issues, personal issues, history,
Past events, important things!
Poems can mean nothing,
But they can also mean the
World to any one! You just
Never know! Poetry is a way
For people to express them-
Selves. Ex-addicts sometimes
Use poetry to help them when they
Are craving their old addictions.
Like I said, poetry can mean
Nothing to one person,
But mean the world to another!
poem by Rhiannon Parvin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dullard's Diatribe
Life is poetry, how it can be!
Life is without rhyme and rhythm,
Poets seek flow and mystic music,
Life lacks both and stumbles like a freak,
All these are make believe and a false promise,
Truth lies in meter and foot, a fool's paradise!
Life, poetry, truth and beauty in different tracts,
Truth is bitter beauty is sweet, in fact a true fact.
So No truth and no beauty in poetry, all are bogus
A hoodwinking, blackmailing and logically fallacious.
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry Is Sexy
Poetry is sexy
Its lyrics aim to please
Poetry is sexy
Engaging in its tease
Poetry is sexy
It radiates with verb
Poetry is sexy
Every idyllic word
Poetry is sexy
Refined for purity
Poetry is sexy
Stripped of subtlety
Poetry is sexy
When read between the lines
Poetry is sexy
Laced with frilly rhymes
Poetry is sexy
Both singular and plural
Poetry is sexy
Every exclamatory swirl
Poetry is sexy
Grammatically raw
Poetry is sexy
Even typos and all
Poetry is sexy
Consummated publicly
Poetry is sexy
When performed properly
Poetry is sexy
Irrespective of its font
Poetry is sexy
Fashioned any way you want
poem by Brian Dorn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To arrange words
To arrange words
In some order
Is not the same thing
As the inner poise
That's poetry.
The truth of poetry
Is the truth
Of being.
It's an experience
Of truth.
No ornaments
Survive
A crucible.
Fire reveals
Only molten
Gold.
Says Tuka
We are here
To reveal.
We do not waste
Words.
poem by Sant Tukaram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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