The poets, therefore, however much they adorned the gods in their poems, and amplified their exploits with the highest praises, yet very frequently confess that all things are held together and governed by one spirit or mind.

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0005 Totally Boring Poem

I’m totally bored by:


poems that sound like other poems

poems that try to sound unlike any other poems

poets who never take risks

poets who think that taking risks
makes them good poets

poems with 'meaning'

poems with no meaning

poets who slag off other poets
as if that achieves something

poets that tell you that rhyme
is not for an age but for all time

poets that tell you that rhyme is outmoded and boring

poets who think that the poetry of 'the past'
is greater than that of 'the present'

poets who think that the poetry of 'the present'
is greater than that of 'the past'

poems that tell you the poet's the first to discover sex

poets that tell you they’re the best sex you’ll ever have
although you’ll never meet them to find out

poets that tell you they’ve been dumped

poets who've never known love and being dumped

poets who are ambitious

poets who are unambitious

poets who tell you all about higher things

poets who reject higher things

poets who think life’s just a joke

poets who think life’s no joke

poets who sit on the fence

poets who have no sense of balance

poets who despise 'the middle ground'

poets who talk about technique

poets with no technique

poets who just throw down their thoughts

poets who 'work up' their poems to a self-satisfied polish

poets who list what they like (who cares?)

poets who list what don’t like (who cares?)

poets who write about extreme states

poets who think they’re immune to extreme states

poets who tell you why they’re bored

poets who have opinions

poets who seem to have no opinions at all

poets who have boring opinions to air - why choose poetry?

poets who comment on others' poems
as if it's the last word

poets who never bother to comment
on others' poems

poets who don't love poetry passionately

poets who tell you they 'love poetry passionately'

poets who – oh I’m too bored to go on reading this,

how about you?

I suppose you have boring opinions too?

another time perhaps


and oh yes I'm most of all bored by
those who waste their precious time on this earth
being bored


well I feel better for that.

how about you?

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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.

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Good Poets and Bad Poets

Some poets get awards and think they are good poets.

Some poets never get awards and think they are bad poets.

Some poets think they are good poets only in their own mind

Some poets think they are bad poets in somebody's else mind.

Some poets think they are good poets in somebody else mind.

Some poets think others think they are good poets but they don't in their hearts.

Some poets think they are good poets in their hearts but not in anyone else's mind.

All are insecure, except those who get security from the opinions of others and that, alas, doesn't last and isn't real.

Some poets have left the entire scene and live only in their mind.

Some poets take criticism and don't mind.

Some poets avoid criticism and do mind.

Some poets write poetry to get love.

Some poets love to write poetry.

Some poets are ahead of their time, in their mind

Some poets spend a lifetime feeling like failures in their mind

Some poets live only after they die.

Some poets have much to say but can't articulate

Some poets retreat, believing others don't understand

So which one of these am I?

I guess I am all of these and none of these

and no matter what my description

I intend to keep doing what I do:

Write. Right

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Past Written Poems I Confess I Dislike

I have past written poems
which I confess I dislike
occasionally intensely dislike

when publishing most poets
will not include bad poems
but contrast can be interesting

juxtaposition of poems
arranged in selection volume
major poems great poems

will vary from reader to reader
who likes simple who craves deep
artistry from all forms may creep


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I Write Poems For Poets

I WRITE POEMS FOR POETS

I write poems for poets
Our situation as poets-
The longings the feelings
We so need to express-
The love of language-
The hunger for recognition-
The frequent rejection-
The kind word of a reader that moves-

Poems for poets
We as we each are
All so different-
And we as we share
Words and worlds
We hope to have read.

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On The Goddess Of Poesy

The Goddess of Poesy the Goddess of Song
To the Universal immortals she surely belong
The poets of the World her praises do sing
The gift of poetry to their souls she does bring.

The poets to write poems Goddess Poesy inspire
And of singing her praises they don't seem to tire
The poetry of sorrow the poetry of joy
The poetry of youth of the young girl and boy.

The poetry of youthfulness and of growing old
Of young women in their prime lovely to behold
The beauty of Nature the birds and the bees
The mammals and fishes of land and of seas.

The Goddess of poets of every gender race and creed
For their inspiration to write in her lives her they need
Of love, life and Nature she inspires poets to write
For the lovers of poetry to read and recite.

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Many Gods

Gods are too many in one religion-
That is an asking of much distaste.

Gods are like religions of adjustment,
Lots of them would affect us in different ways.

Gods may produce laughter,
But Thor is no good with thunder.

Gods are not selling me objects,
Due to the weather and frame of mind.

I live with gods and goddesses
For I am a job to do with the highest ones.

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Envy Of Other Poets Greater And More Honored Than Me

ENVY OF OTHER POETS GREATER AND MORE HONORED THAN ME

Envy of other poets greater and more honored than me
Only shows how petty and foolish and unwisely ambitious I am-

Each is what he or she is,
And each is only one-
And no one is anyone else-
And better are many, and worse are many-

A poet should write his own lines
And mind his own business-
And take pleasure in the poetry of others
When it gives that.

A poet need not compare and measure himself
But rather simply be what he is.

Write the poems
Leave the honors and the praises to someone else.

poem by Shalom FreedmanReport problemRelated quotes
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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?

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So Many Poets

so many poets

so many poems

all popping up like mushrooms after the lightning and thunder


no one comes to see

no one comes to say the mushrooms are not so white not so good


so many poems

so many poets

the readers are few, the readers are lesser


but what can you do?


what do you expect?


well, i am just writing my diary, and i am the reader who reads it myself

to ease this pain,

to let myself know that with all my unrequited loves, i still dare to write

and exist.

and i don't really care.

so many poets

look at these poems

they all look and sound the same

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The poems I love

There are poems that I envy,
poems that I admire and respect,
poems that simply sing to me,
poems that I puzzle over…

but the poems I most love -
they may be jewelled and adorned
with adjectives and adverbs,
similes and metaphors, (but
they must be enlightening, relevant,
making mind and heart to expand
in sheer exhilaration)

or they may be so quietly, humbly carpentered
that they say, I’m simply here to serve you…

but they all say to me with
shining eyes, as if
the world made new in that moment,

‘Yes, I was there!
Join me there! ’

and their ‘there’ is here and now
and as great as the universe
and the heart that yearns.

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Reading Fellow Poets

always like some poems
elements within some poems

it is the nature of serious poets
to like poems by other poets


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To Li Po (Li Bai) and Uriah

Dear Li Po,
strange things happen to poets
during their life,
especially those who like wine.

But now, more than a thousand years
after your suicide,
men have named a crater on
the planet Mercury with your name…
Mercury, the planet the Greeks called
Hermes Apollo, messenger of gods and poets;
the shining one;

although men have not been there yet.
When they do, they may find you
sitting in your crater, watching the Moon
(we think it will appear to you
two times a day instead of once…)
and drinking wine with Uriah;
(and your shadows will be there too,
tall on the crater’s slope…)
you’re teaching him Chinese;
he’s translating your poems into English
with your approval.

He’d like that. We hope you would.
A strange place for immortals to drink wine;
but poets do and say strange things;
that’s why we love them, just as
children love surprises,
dear Li Po.

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Poetry That Belongs Only To Poets

POETRY THAT BELONGS ONLY TO POETS

Poetry that belongs only to other poets
Is not the highest poetry-
The highest poetry speaks to all
Who can hear and read it-

Let the specialists play their formal tricks for educated sophistry
The poets who speak to us
Are heard in the most simple heart.

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Breaking The Chain

To find my spirit, is to free my mind.
My mind tells me what I want.
My spirit tells me what I already have.
What is pleasing to the eyes,
Is poison to the spirit.
Love things and use people.
Give the power to a thought,
Leaves me powerless.
My mind wants control of all.
My spirit says I must control myself.
For it is all I have the power to do.
If I fear I am sick,
I can will myself to feel sick.
Even though I am really well.
I live according to my fears.
My life is surrounded by my giant.
I cannot breathe.
I am suffocated, by what I imagine.
I think what once was, still is.
I fear for my future, based on my past.
I cannot move forward,
If I am constantly held back.
By the chains of my mind that bind me,
I can only be at one place at one time.
My past or my present.
If I hold on to both,
One hand on my past, one on my future,
They each pull me in opposite directions,
Leaving me torn.
Let go of the past.
Grab a hold of the future with both hands.
It's will to be a wild ride!
With my mind, all things are probable.
With my spirit, all things are possible.

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So Many Poets So Many Poems

SO MANY POETS SO MANY POEMS

So many poets so many poems-
Must I remain forever unknown?

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Poetry

To those of you who've never read poems
there is a vacancy in your homes.
For poets dream
and poets scream
words that should be said
and never left dead.
They speak of love in artful wonder
and even love that's torn asunder.
They tell the stories that affect the people.
Their hopes, their fears,
the ageing years
their laughing times,
their weeping tears.
Poetry has its own special flow.
If you've never read it you don't know
its magic with word
not silent but heard.
To evoke in the mind
something you find
with rhythm and cadences
allowing your senses
to come alive.
Alive.

Most poets are quiet except with their pen.
They become quite vociferous especially when
conveying to you what they deem to be true.
For poets are sensitive
to all they see.
They speak from the heart
and hope to be
inspirational, controversial
to awaken in you
a picture or image
for your mind to view.

Poems are music and praise for the soul
that hungers and thirsts
for you to become whole.
All of the poets who've come and gone
have left their thoughts and then moved on,
moved on to pursue loftier goals
accompanied by words to soothe their souls.

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A Tribute To My Great Poets (Revised)

I forget who it was that invented the first electrode.
Let me praise the guy who invented the commode.
Love is all that matters in the solar system and universe
Some poets and writers like to compose using free verse.
I like to write my poems using ending rhymes.
Some poems I like to read over one hundred times.
The inspiration for some of my poems are from the divine.
The writings and poems of Jane Austen can make me pine.
A moving poem by Robert Frost can inspire my mind.
Let me mention another great poet name Edgar Allan Poe.
He wrote a poem called ‘The Raven’ about someone in woe.
So ode to the electrode, commode, the solar system, and the universe.
Hooray for poems that rhyme, things that are divine, and even free verse.
Bravo to poets who make me pine and all those who inspire my mind.
Let me pay a final tribute to the poets; Austen, Frost, and Poe.
I love to read a moving poem about loss and great human woe?


My favorite Frost poem is Road Less Taken; My favorite Poe poem is The Raven; And my favorite Austen poem is Ode to Pity.

*Definitions of pine: noun: have a desire for something or someone who is not present
Definitions of woe: noun: intense mournfulness, or misery resulting from affliction.

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Time Choice

to read poets
their poems
is time choice

actually poet
would write
more superior

poems
if educated read
other poets?

interacted more
nothing happens
in still isolation?


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A Rare Flower Blooms Only Once In a Blue Moon!

Just as Nature is an inspiration to spirit
Poetry is an inspiration to the heart ever!
Musical poems full of meaning delight all
Like the freshly blossomed flowers do to all!

Poems delight heart, inspire mind and
Elevate spirit to higher level ever in bliss!
Poems mean inspiration and delight to heart
That remain in mind ever to inspire soul ever!

Nature and poetry are reality and reflection
As Shakespeare did with his art of poems
Reflecting human life in all its totality ever
As rare flowers alive for all to enjoy ever!

Poems of such kind are flowers of rare variety
Such flowers bloom only once in a blue moon!

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