It is quite cruel that a poet cannot wander through his regions of enchantment without having a critic, forever, like the old man of the sea, upon his back.
quote by Marianne Moore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poets and critics
The poet is a child, emotion ridden.
The critic is a teacher, a check dam.
The poet bursts to cry or weep.
The critic stands there with a whip.
23.09.2000, Palasa
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Poet Fears Failure
The poet fears failure
& so she says
"Hold on pen--
what if the critics
hate me?"
& with that question
she blots out more lines
than any critic could.
The critic is only doing his job:
keeping the poet lonely.
He barks
like a dog at the door
when the master comes home.
It's in his doggy nature.
If he didn't know the poet
for the boss,
he wouldn't bark so loud.
& the poet?
It's in her nature
to fear failure
but not to let that fear
blot out
her lines.
poem by Erica Jong
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A Coincidence
Every critic in the town
Runs the minor poet down;
Every critic--don't you know it?
Is himself a minor poet.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Enchantment of Summer
There is an enchantment that comes with Summer,
An enchantment that fills the heart,
And it is displayed in every garden
Of villages, towns, and hamlets miles apart.
There is an enchantment that comes with Summer,
With luster of flowers and the green foliage of trees,
In the chirrup of the robin and whistle of the quail,
And colorful butterflies and swarming honeybees.
There is an enchantment that comes with Summer,
An enchantment for all ages - old and young,
For it seems that people are happier and cheerful
When the intermittent songs of birds are sung.
There is an enchantment that comes with Summer,
When life is like a story - neither sob nor sigh,
The music of the laughing lip - the luster of the eye,
The glad belief in everything as Summer goes by.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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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
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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
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The Wicket Cricket Critic
If the cricket critics' nagging
Merits stern official gagging
Which I doubt
How would critical ascetics,
With their prosy homiletics,
Shut it out?
And the question then arises:
If more cricketing surprises,
Such as bodyline, begin to threaten cricket,
And another stunt, when sprung,
Call for clicking of the tongue,
Should a cricket critic critically click it?
When the barrackers grow lyric
In a manner most satiric
And profane,
How, one ventures still to wonder,
May the clamor be kept under?
How restrain?
For one barbaric larrik-
In can do a lot of barrack-
In', and cause a lot of worry at the wicket.
But would sportsmen be abusing
Cricket canons in refusing
To supply that cricket critic with a ticket?
As a critic analytic
Of the cricket critics' critic
I would say,
When we criticise their cricket,
Then the players have to stick it,
Come what may.
No specific soporific
May be used; for it is diffic-
Ult to strike a critic partly paralytic.
So there's nothing gained in seeking,
As I know; and I am speaking
As a critic of the cricket critic's critic.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Cruel Summer
Dans la chaleur de la nuit qui s'enroule tout autour de moi
Je marche seule sans savoir pourquoi tu n'es plus l
Ca tourne dans ma tte
Et tout s'arrte
Ta voix me parle tout bas
Je ne sais plus o j'en suis, je ne vois plus que toi
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
The city is crowed
My friends are away
And I'm on my own
It's too handle
So I've got to get up and go
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
Cruel summer, it's a cruel summer Cruel summer, it's a cruel summer
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
Cruel summer, it's a cruel summer Cruel summer, it's a cruel summer
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
It's a crue , cruel summer, c'est fini
song performed by by Ace Of Base
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Did You Mess With Forever?
I came by to get my things,
thank you for getting the door,
but i dont feel right walking in a war.
You think its cruel
i did my cyring at home.
but i'm alone now, i'm alone before.
i'm on my way, i have one more thing to ask.
was it worth the price you paid for my never coming back?
why did you mess with forever?
oooh oooh oooh
such a long time to be unkind.
why did you mess with forever?
ohohoh yeah
dont you call me cruel,
cruel's what you're making me do.
stick to my rules, i'm at odds with me now.
so stay, don't go ahead, and stay before i'm on my way
i have one more thing to ask.
was it worth the price you paid for me never coming back?
why did you mess with forever?
oooh oooh oooh
such a long time to be unkind.
why did you mess with forever?
you asked to kiss me once goodbye
well, you already did on somebody else's lips.
till the tiny chemicals, the one's you hold responsible.
they lost me , you lost me.
everything inside me tells me i should run to you and throw my arma around you.
hold your stealin crying cheek against mine and tell you nothings wrong.
but wrong was what you were when you forgot
we were goin on,
we were goin on,
we were goin on
Tell me why did, why did you mess with forever?
oooh oooh oooh
what a long time to be unkind.
why did you mess with forever?
ohohoh yeah
song performed by by John Mayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too much is demanded by the critic, attempted by the poet.
quote by John C. Ransom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Misjudge Him Not, O Critic
Go to hell, ye critic who tries in vain,
A poet’s love-affair to unravel;
His sensuous sex details- to pry insane;
From his own poems composed, a marvel.
Remember thou, the poet’s a Creator!
And with time, turns a literary Wizard;
In the art of painting words, a Master;
Who can write even about a lizard!
Oh, denigrate not, man of such greatness,
With silly conjectures, thine assumptions;
Mar not his name with acts of carelessness,
Belittling his work beyond redemption.
Oh, let the man in each poet remain!
And judge his art for art’s sake, sans disdain.
poem by John Celes
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You do not become a critic until it has been completely established to your own satisfaction that you cannot be a poet.
quote by Theophile Gautier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dark Questions
Do you wander the dark path, my brother?
Do you hide your fear and sorrow,
and joy and love,
behind the fragile facade of pride?
Do you lie to yourself and deny this?
How simple the fool.
Will you not break at this irresistable force?
Will you not show the pain to any?
Will you hide yourself forever behind the lie?
How complex is the truth, then?
Can you deny forever the hidden reality in which you exist?
Can you see through the impenetrable darkness
that surrounds you?
Can you ignore the ghastly cast of the shadows
of your fellows?
How blissful the unknown.
poem by Poet Dragon
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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
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Every good poet includes a critic; the reverse will not hold.
quote by William Shenstone
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Every good poet includes a critic, but the reverse is not true.
quote by William Shenstone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I never met anybody in my life who says, I want to be a critic. People want to be a fireman, poet, novelist.
quote by Leslie Fiedler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The New Poet In Town
the new poet in town laughs
at his finding
that when he write
his poems
his only purpose
is that the poem
must not be understood
by anybody
because it is only
through this way
that they will say
the new poet in town
is deep
with his sorrow
and panicky with his
pain and
lamentable with his
foment
the critique
scratches his head and
proclaims
the glory of the new poet in town
saying
'this is the best poem i have read'
(because he does not understand what it means
though sounding like a hollow pipe that you sling with a stone
saying ' ping, xing, tsing, ting, tang tong, oinnk., , toinkk'
'excellent' the last critic with a tainted glass declares.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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I have never believed that the critic is the rival of the poet, but I do believe that criticism is a genre of literature or it does not exist.
quote by Harold Bloom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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