Good authors, too, who once knew better words now only use four-letter words writing prose... anything goes.
quote by Cole Porter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A prose writer gets tired of writing prose, and wants to be a poet. So he begins every line with a capital letter, and keeps on writing prose.
quote by Samuel McChord Crothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words
Words on this paper
Words in my head
Words while I'm texting
Computing
Unsaid
Words between people
Words on the phone
Words upon words
Even when I'm alone
Words from the Bible
I question
Don't mesh
Words from pornography
Making them flesh
Words with flat letters
Written in black
Good words and bad words
You cannot take back
Words that are shallow
Words that are deep
When they're too many
They put me to sleep
Words that I'm writing
And rhyming you read
Whatever I'm saying
There's prolly no need
Words from the alphabet
Words that can't be
When you are blind
And it's Braile that you see
Words that are worthless
And said on the fly
My words or your words
Are most likely lies
Words in a sentence
Wise words or fair
The only words earnest
Are those said in prayer
Written by Sara Fielder © 2011
poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Letter
She retrieved the letter from the mail.
Seeing the handwriting
she grew instantly pale.
She'd not seen it for many years.
Seeing it again brought
back the tears.
Not one word that he had said
was lost in her,
inside her head.
Things were good for so long.
Remembering them again
seemed so wrong.
The letter sat on her desktop now.
Staring at it intently
she knew somehow
the letter was an attempt to rectify
blaming him alone
or even knowing why?
Two months passed and finally
she opened it. Her heart stood still.
For she did see
words of comfort, but words of woe.
'I'm sick my love
but before I go
I need to see you. Can you come?
I'm sorry my love.
What's done is done.'
He died while the letter
sat unread.
She kept the letter in her bed.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Writing To
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Writing every emotion..
With such a white background.
It makes no sound
Even as the keys I pound.
Let my words have bite
Let from my words drip out meanings beyond meanings
Its something I try to be constantly be achieving.
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
I want every heart and mind
Sucked in cause this is my world stage
No sense of the time.
Never to turn the page
Stuck in to a world oh so oh so fine
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Listen to her melody, as she sings.
Let chaos reign down from the skies
What will this day really bring?
Will the letter say good bye?
Will it mend everything?
Making everything better.
Destroying all the consequences
That exist in your world.
Welcome to the place I visit daily.
Inspirational maddness,
It attacks, attacks, and attacks.
With perfect sadness
I must let go once more.
And then the words hit the floor
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
Becoming one with my soul.
Fighting for its one and only control.
Its mine, Its mine. Its mine.
In this reality it subsequently is not
A constant questioning of what?
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
With every sound, taste, and light.
The worlds get get oh so oh so bright
Understand that which is not so forthright
This is my night, and day.
So come on join me, please this way.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thousands of eyes
Poetry or prose is a writing.
In prose contents get focus
And in poetry, taste of words.
Prose sounding poetry is sweeter.
We see thousands of stars at night
And only one sun in a day - prose.
The night has thousands of eyes
And the day, only one in sky. - poetry
01.08.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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About You Again, Tanja
I will write a poem about you again
Or it seems so to me
For good music you only need a voice
Janis Joplin - Mercedes Benz
For a good poem you only need words
Your words are like a gentle stream
Vltava - Smetana
Your prose is like a flowing fluid
Adagio - Albinoni
This poem will never have an ending...
For I am a keeper of your memories
Bodyguard - Whitney Houston
I am writing a poem about you again
Or it seems so to me
poem by Jankovic Zoran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Letter
I saw a letter lying on the floor
I couldn't help but look inside
Thought it was something that you must've left
Left there for me to find
All your words were on that page
All my dreams came true that day
I found
[chorus:]
Your letter...
Your letter...
It said you loved me
But you didn't know the words to say
It said you never knew that you could ever feel this way
It said you only wish someday that i would feel the same
In your letter
Your letter
I guess it just never occured to me
That you would feel the way i did
You kept the sweetest secret from my heart
You kept those feelings in
Though you never showed a sign
Give a clue to what i'd find
Inside
[chorus]
I was so happy that i almost cried
To think that you would think of me that way
It's like you took my sweetest dream
And made that dream come true
I would be with you
Always...
I saw a name i didn't recognize
I felt the tears come to my eyes
Seeing that the love that you've been longing for
Was another love, not mine
No, you never showed a sign
But it was right there in the lines
Inside
Your letter
Your letter
It said you loved him
But you didn't know the words to say
It said you never knew that you could ever feel this way
It said you only wish someday that he would feel the same
In your letter
Your letter
I saw a letter lying on the floor...
song performed by by 112
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vanish
The elements in my thoughts are emptiness in
my hands, the uncertainty of your reach, i cannot
think of, but only hope that the day is not yet gone
entirely from my extending shelf. Where the literature
of infinite prose are the taste of one self, to become
myself as one into your spoken words. The writing
all becomes a shadow of many regrets. My hands
can only feel the texture of the paperback, but not
the words written, they can only register in my
conscious to stay and appear when i need them. I
cannot grab your voice nor your thoughts, if only
i could reach the sky and write my prose in a cloud
you shall read my contemplation from a distance
where ever you are. Tell me where it is your standing,
unless you want me lost. For eons I have longed the
moment to come. Tell me where to find you unless
you want me to fall. The prose only say you wait
desperately for hope.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two schools of thought.
.
The lady chose to take offence
Although I said she wrote fine prose
She may not know the difference
between poetry and prose
She thought that she wrote poetry
But what she wrote was free form prose.
I offered no apology
It was not my fault that she chose.
Not to learn the basic rules
defining prose and poetry
Two very different writing schools
in which to show your artistry.
The so called experts can’t agree
and coined the term poetic prose.
Though writing cannot possible
be classed as poetry and prose.
If it’s not metered it is prose
no matter how poetical.
But you’re entitled to compose.
Fine prose and call it poetry.
Though I suggest respectfully
you should be proud of writing prose.
As some do most successfully.
But it was poetry I chose
Thursday,11 March 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Letter From Spain
I read the papers this morning
I saw your photograph
You look good in the movie
It must be so much fun
Letter from spain
From someone I once knew
I got a letter this morning
Postmark said it was from spain
Your writing is so very strange
I guess it always was that way
Letter from spain
From someone I once knew
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Last Letter
writing one last letter...
not sure who it's to
- dont think it matters!
the words are composed of
the things i've done... both
good and bad.
the commas are for my mistakes,
-Lord, we're gonna have a lot of commas!
mistakes both of omission,
and commission...
the periods are for the times
i gave up, quit trying,
lost my way...
but the body of the letter
is filled with hope....
hope that sees things as
they are, and still believes...
i dont have to sign this letter,
it looks, smells, and tastes
like me...
i'll put this letter in the mailbox,
addressed to occupant,
to whomever gets it...
address unknown!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Young Letter Writer
Dear Sir, Dear Madam, or Dear Friend,
With ease are written at the top;
When those two happy words are penned,
A youthful writer oft will stop,
And bite his pen, and lift his eyes
As if he thinks to find in air
The wished-for following words, or tries
To fix his thoughts by fixëd stare.
But haply all in vain-the next
Two words may be so long before
They'll come, the writer, sore perplext,
Gives in despair the matter o'er;
And when maturer age he sees
With ready pen so swift inditing,
With envy he beholds the ease
Of long-accustomed letter-writing.
Courage, young friend; the time may be
When you attain maturer age,
Some young as you are now may see
You with like ease glide down a page.
Even then when you, to years a debtor,
In varied phrase your meanings wrap,
The welcomest words in all your letter
May be those two kind words at top.
poem by Charles Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beware Words Written
words celebrating what is written
beware allure of beauty in words written
seek instead words thoughts not written
words not written thoughts not written
themes not written which need to be written
the importance of the unwritten demands writing
important world needs consciousness needs writing
urgent global necessity issues demands needs writing
actions resolutions policy change harmony restoration needs writing
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Thing For Words
words
kiss on pages...
words kill
on lips...
words
hang with mind...
words
spread with a love...
all about words...
only speak at
bad..with good...
god words are
good......
devil words are
bad...
are
some thing...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My poems is not Poetry
My Poems are not Poetry
Poetry rhythm is essential part
Communicative act of rhythms
Where words created music
An effect on the reader’s and listener
Words beginning with the same letter
And achieve a poetically effect.
My Poems has no rhythms
For the first time I don’t know
What to say and how to show.
Many words is not my style
Let me say, I like your smile
I don’t think I should like you,
Unfortunately I do.
I'm not sure now how to write
I lost my idea how, where words
Are used in away similar
Creating Music, where you find
Languages of rhymes
I write Prose but not Poetry
Using a regular rhythm
Where vast majority
Of languages spoken and written.
I try to be a barn, the muses were believed and inspire
I try to hard without success,
you already know, I guess.
Anyhow, it doesn’t matter
Usually I do not write
Things like this, I never tried,
for the first time I don’t know
what these lines should say or show.
Allegory, metaphor equated
Meaning lie outside the narrative
Acrostic phase when read together
Alliteration words same letter for poetical effect
Satire is a form of humour
Limerick is a short humorous poem.
And Honestly, I don’t regret
Things I did and words I said.
7. January 2008
poem by Mary Wismer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Love Letter
She wonders how to begin her letter
She knows he will read each word
Greedily for any hint of love. She knows
He will sniff the paper for any scent of her
She leans an elbow on her writing desk
And clutches her pen tight. She has got
As far as, Dear John, but then the words
Stopped coming. Before she had sat down
To write, the words flowed through her
Mind like a rushing stream, now nothing
She sucks the end of the pen. Say what
You would if you were face to face, her
Mother always said. She tries to imagine
He is there before her and what she would
Say if he was, but still no words will come
He writes to her so fluently when he writes
He always seems to know what to write
And how to put it into words. She tries again
Puts the pen nib onto the paper, gripping
The pen tighter. She reads what she’s written
Dear John. The pen moves, the words begin
To flow, her hand moves across the page
The images come into her mind as she writes
The things that they said last time they met
The things they did, she blushes slightly
That almost being caught out by the maid
In a state of undress. She pauses the pen
And sits gazing at the painting on the wall.
She looks back at the paper and starts again
The words tripping over themselves to be put
Down in ink upon a page; the images open up
In her mind, the colours, the smells, the events
The pen now stops. The love letter is written
The writing done. She looks at the words
Then she seals it in an envelope and writes
His address. She pictures him reading it: in bed
In his room, sleepy, in a state of his usual undress
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Going On
It seems like this story just keeps going on
Like an endless rant
That I couldn't stop not even if I should want
To, but it presses forward like a damnation
Or a punishment it just keeps going and going
I don't even know what I'm doing
And yet those actions done or not
Are writing my story letter by letter
Those motivational speakers say I'm the pilot
Of my life but i couldn't feel any less in control- helter skelter
But I'll just keep going on writing these poems
And through them writing my story for all time
Forever chronicled in rhyme after rhyme
Because this is all a part of me
These poems they're my problems
And my solutions, or maybe they're nothing more than words
Maybe I'm just overthinking this, but either way It'll go on
Just keep moving on, until comatose or final resting beds
I guess this story will continue until ascension
poem by David Knox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I wish our clever young poets would remember my homely definitions of prose and poetry that is prose words in their best order-poetry the best words in the best order.
quote by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wish our clever young poets would remember my homely definitions of prose and poetry; that is, prose = words in their best order; - poetry = the best words in the best order.
quote by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lip Service
Words inspire and words destroy
Words conspire and words annoy
Words spread freedom and words detain
Words believe them in sound refrain
Words of passion in words misleading
Words without action are words without meaning
poem by P.R. Prosper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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