We tend to put poems into factions. And it restricts our reading.
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Static Factions
Static...
Factions.
Static...
Factions.
You will get a bit of it,
If you are in the middle of...
Static...
Factions.
Static...
F actions.
Erractic people panicked,
With fanatics on the scene.
And everything is evilized,
To make sure there's a realized...
Static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
You will get a bit of it,
If you're in the middle of...
Static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
Erractic people panicked,
With fanatics on the scene.
And everything is evilized,
To make sure there's a realized...
Static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
To make sure nothing's minimized.
Static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
Erractic people panicked,
With fanatics on the scene.
In their static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
And everything is evilized,
To make sure there's a realized...
Static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
To make sure nothing's minimized.
Static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
Erractic people panicked,
With fanatics on the scene.
In their static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
And being loud about it.
In their static,
Factions.
And being loud about it.
In their static,
Factions.
Static,
Factions.
And being loud about it.
In their static,
Factions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What I Like To Do
The computer is an addictive thing
I go on it everyday
Checking my messages and facebook account
This is my way to stay
Even though the computer is fun
And i go on it quite a bit
Reading and writing storys and poems
I would never quit
As well as reading and writing
I love my nature too
Camping and fishing and other things
But this is nothing new
As you can tell with my poetry
I'm a creative and artistic person
I like to create and make things
Which with people tend to stun
This is a little about me
and what I like to do
I hope your all creative people
....... Well most of you
poem by Samantha Ridley
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Like So Many Poems I Read
LIKE SO MANY POEMS I READ
Like so many poems I read
These poems I am reading now
Are not poems to me.
They are too detached
Too abstract
Too up in the air.
I want to hear the words
Make a music of feeling
In my soul.
A poem must move me
If it is to be real.
Why then do I write these words
as if a poem?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Love Letter Not Posted
Love Letter Not Posted.
I got a sweet email, yes romantic as well,
something about holding hands
and things that tend to follow a passionate kiss.
She had read my poems and thought I was
a darling! I thought of sending her a love poem
but desisted as my poems tend to be cynical;
beside there is a question of grooming.
Dear heart, thank you for the email, I shall not
answer you, but quietly dream of what could
could have been if I had been seventeen, and
not a grumpy old man who wears a winter coat
for comfort even in June.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Letter, 1974
A certain man was left alone
Creating work for his hands to own
Left alone by his woman lover
Abandoned by a man, his brother
Humbled he lay reading poems
Relearning faith from modern bibles
Reading in poems of a fool Isaiah
Instructed in his own desire
A dreaming man once found a letter
Beloved hands, but not for him
A letter returned to the stars
To free him from his burning heart.
poem by Frank Bana
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Poems About.
There are poems that you will never see
Marked in a folder titled 'privacy'
Poems of hate and anger and personal pain
Poems about greed and hunger and personal gain
Poems about people I would love to see dead
Poems about women I met
Poems about relationships that have gone bad
Poems about issues with mom and dad
Poems about me, the person no one knows
Poems about places where only my soul goes
Poems I wish I could place in the clouds for all to read
Poems about lust, selfishness and greed
Poems I know will hurt those I hate
Poems I write by complete mistake
Poems I have hidden in my heart and my head
Poems about things that are better left unsaid
Poems I want to share and poems I want to retract
Poems of shame and how others might act
They stay in my psyche, they are a part of me
These poems I write, but you will never see.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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Stenogrpher
i catch her
reading my poems
on the internet
and she could not believe it
why i am writing poems
and she asks me
why?
well, i write because
i have nothing to do
and i like it
when no one understands me
who likes to read poetry
anyway?
you?
drama.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Oh The Poems And More Poems
OH THE POEMS AND THE MORE POEMS
Oh the poems and the more poems
The wonderful poems I am writing all the time
God has given me this gift
And when I wait in the right way
And when I listen to myself properly
The poems come in ways I could never have thought of or imagined before
They come as mysteries as gifts as surprises
As wonderful to me as perhaps to you their possible readers
Oh the poems and the more poems
The wonderful poems God has given me
And the light of this day and so many other days, also.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Stifle not the reader
Reading is an art,
reading is a tool.
Those who think it dumb,
must be such a fool.
Reading is enjoyment,
reading is a blast.
Reading is a separate entity
from the future and the past.
Reading is done in present,
though written in a tense.
Reading is about life,
in surprise or suspense.
Reading is a place of joy,
full of hope and song,
Reading is a place I feel
that I truly do belong.
A trapdoor to a fantasy,
A world thought lost to us,
Reading is a place of wonder,
a place that we can trust.
Why read about reality,
when I can delve into magic.
Why stifle my own happiness,
with scenarios so tragic.
Stifle not the reader,
for it is their choice alone.
Reading is an outlet,
for hearts that turned to stone.
Kabir reading 'Kabir
See this fine manuscript
so beautifully illuminated round the picture –
why, it’s none other than Kabir!
reading a book entitled The Poems of Kabir;
he’s smiling, laughing, waving his hands –
how can he be enjoying himself so much?
The manuscript doesn’t tell you this;
only Kabir can tell you, in that other place..
of all the poems, he only recognises two
as poems that he wrote himself..
but here’s Kabir’s delight today:
many of the other poems, he thinks,
could pass for his!
How wonderful to be so praised in spirit!
As he reads – see, he’s circled round with angels;
they’re all laughing too.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Kabir reads 'Kabir
See this fine manuscript
so beautifully illuminated round the picture –
why, it’s none other than Kabir!
reading a book entitled The Poems of Kabir;
he’s smiling, laughing, waving his hands –
how can he be enjoying himself so much?
The manuscript doesn’t tell you this;
only Kabir can tell you, in that other place..
of all the poems, he only recognises two
as poems that he wrote himself..
but here’s Kabir’s delight today:
many of the other poems, he thinks,
are good enough to be his!
How wonderful to be so praised in spirit!
As he reads – see, he’s circled round with angels;
they’re all laughing too.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Arrogance of a Poet
Reading, reading, reading aloud,
Out to an audience or a large crowd,
A lovely poem, simple like this,
Rhyming couplets, O what a bliss,
Next a succulent simile,
Like this, like that or just like me.
Alliteration, simile all in one,
The Sun looked down, thinking well done!
Woah, personification, the touch of skill
But ofcourse, I can still
Go further and further with these thoughts,
Enjambment used, eat my shorts!
My skill unmatched, the audience applaud,
Score,10/10, definitely assured.
But still this skill was not enough,
They believed my poem was still a rough
Copy or a draft, not the final one,
A poem to impress, that could have won.
And so I wander back, like a whale
To feed my young poems a treacherous tale,
To which they will, rebel and fight
For why did that poem not set alight
The crowd with all its great talent,
But I will not, never, relent
In making you poems walk into fame,
And there goes my poetic technique again...
poem by Viraj Bhanshaly
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Not Every Poem Knows How To Say Its Own Name Properly
NOT EVERY POEM KNOWS HOW TO SAY ITS OWN NAME PROPERLY
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly-
There are poems that have no name
And poems that are named by others who have not written them-
There are poems whose names make them what they are
And poems whose names contradict and belie them-
Many poems have their first lines as their names
And these poems often are as memorable as one line only-
Great poems and good poems can be nameless
Or can have unforgettable names.
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly -
Poems are poems are poems
And names are names are names
And sometimes they meet and are one
And live happily ever after-
But there are times when perhaps
They never should have met each other at all.
Poems have their names
And names have their poems
But sometimes they love each other
And truly are one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Child's Game
the games that you play
are the same games that i am playing
writing poems
watching movies
reading stories
reading poems
taking the night
out with not so
close friends
enjoying the
music at the bar
some beer and
some barbecue
a little laughter
some pretenses
some truths to
tell sometimes
going home late
and wanting some
sleep till noon,
what is it that i am doing?
i am hiding from misery
this program on pain reduction
this art of losing and finding
and losing till it hurts no more
these children games
of hide and seek
breaking up and
becoming friends again
in such a short
time
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poems About Poems About Poems
Poems about poems about poems-
More poems and more poems and more poems-
Poems poems poems poems poems-
How many poems?
How much poetry
Until there is no poetry at all?
But only 'words' and 'words' and 'words'
Until one goes far away
Where there was never a poem before-
And suddenly hears
“Let there be Light”.
And Poetry perhaps
Is born again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Before I Sleep Tonight
i have written many poems
and you have been reading
perhaps all of them and you
even remember what i have
written and left there, i always
tell you i am busy, for i am,
doing anything, reading and
writing each poem, each
feeling, but before i sleep
tonight, as i will write this as
my last poem, let me tell you
given the choice between
poetry and you, you know too
well, that i will choose you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ed's Choice
To Dear Poets
Some of your
Poems
Are my
Favourites
Not because
I always
Agree with you.
I also beg to
Disagree…
There is a
Difference
Of opinion.
Yet I honour
Your
Perspective
As there is
So much
To learn
From you.
I get inspired
By your
Well-expressed
Words and
Verses…
So for some
Good reading
And reflecting
I look up to you.
(Dedicated to all the Poems that've made it to Ed's Choice on Boloji)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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We Each Perceive From a Different Point of View
We walk on paths that have separate purposes
You say I have written too many poems,
And the reading of them,
Prevents you to keep up.
My rebuttal to that is this...
I keep no thoughts or opinions,
Set aside for anyone to keep a pace.
Or decide to wait in a hesitation they may take.
I would like for you to read what it is I produce.
But do you have the patience to delay your dreams...
To approve each one accomplished that gets done.
Then without an energy you provide yourself...
You must maintain a motivation,
No one comes to give with such devoted dedication.
You say I have written too many poems,
And the reading of them,
Prevents you to keep up.
Well...
I must say I am flattered.
However,
I do believe...
We walk on paths that have separate purposes.
With a calling to different missions.
And we each perceive from a different point of view.
Perhaps that's why the topics of my writings,
Keeps you reviewing them...
More than leaving is a wish for you to do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Which Poems Are True and Which Poems Only A Story?
WHICH POEMS ARE TRUE AND WHICH POEMS ONLY A STORY?
Which poems are true
and which poems only a story?
There are poems I have to write
They are the heart of who I am-
And other poems that tell a story my mind makes
And takes me where I do not know I'll ever really be-
There are real poems and there are imaginary poems-
And there are poems-in- between like this one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Lost Poems
When I was a child about the age of 5,
I wrote a ton of poems late at night,
I gave them to my school teacher
who thought they were great,
but I never did see them again to this date.
My mom tells me I became despairingly mad,
then I became really sad,
which then made me cry and cry,
so to make up for lost time,
and also before I lose my mind,
I write Purple Poems that really do rhyme.
That my friend is what you will find,
when reading Purple Poems from Christina Sunrise.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Feb.6,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
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