Seamus Heaney

Poetry is always slightly mysterious, and you wonder what is your relationship to it.

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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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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!

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Poetry Undefined

Poetry is a great many things
to each poet you see,
Poetry even has various meanings
as to what it is to me

Overall,

Poetry is the means
By which my heart communicates,
My mind finds the words
For these feelings and translates

Sometimes,

Poetry is my lover
My fantasies he fulfills
Beckoning me to crisp, white sheets
where my blacks and blues I spill

Or,

Poetry comes as a mysterious moon
appearing softly in the night,
age old secrets of the universe
he reveals to me with his light

See,

Poetry is my spirit
the connection to the Divine,
It lets me see what I am to be,
let’s me soar when I feel confined

So,

Don’t try too hard to define
What poetry really is
Just know that what you get from a poem
Is all a poet had to give

11.25.02

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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...

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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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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!

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Im Going Slightly Mad

Words and music by queen
When the outside temperature rises
And the meaning is oh so clear
One thousand and one yellow daffodils
Begin to dance in front of you - oh dear
Are they trying to tell you something
Youre missing that one final screw
Youre simply not in the pink my dear
To be honest you havent got a clue
Im going slightly mad
Im going slightly mad
It finally happened - happened
It finally happened - ooh oh
It finally happened
Im slightly mad
Oh dear
Im one card short of a full deck
Im not quite the shilling
One wave short of a shipwreck
Im not my usual top billing
Im coming down with a fever
Im really out to sea
This kettle is boiling over
I think Im a banana tree
Oh dear
Im going slightly mad
Im going slightly mad
It finally happened - happened
It finally happened - uh huh
It finally happened
Im slightly mad
Oh dear
Ooh ooh ah ah
Ooh ooh ah ah
Im knitting with only one needle
Unravelling fast its true
Im driving only three wheels these days
But my dear how about you
Im going slightly mad
Im going slightly mad
It finally happened
It finally happened - oh yes
It finally happened
Im slightly mad
Just very slightly mad
And there you have it

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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.

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Poetry

Why is poetry so boring?
Everytime I read it,
It leaves me snoring,
Why is poetry so boring?

Some thing it's the art,
But it's an art how?
Poetry comes from the heart,
No wonder boys frown.

Some this it's the words,
With their displeasure,
They are like sour milk curds,
Which are too big to measure.

Poetry is boring,
Everytime I read it,
It leaves me snoring,
That's why poetry is boring.

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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

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A Part Of My Life

People write poetry for diverse reasons,
as in poems that describe the yearly seasons.
Poem's can show the love for our mother and father
and you can vent against the boyfriend of your daughter.
You can express your feelings about a day at the beach,
nothing is out of poetry's reach.
Beautiful poetry can make your heart soar
and bring alive days of yore.
It can make king's of old come alive
or make you sad enough to cry.
Poetry can describe angel's performing a celestial dance
or some other circumstance.
Poetry can help a relationship to mend
and it can also help it to end.
I have used poetry to describe a summer day's ice-cream cone
and to express feeling's of being alone.
Poetry will always be a part of my life,
to write of the good and write of the strife.
06/01/07

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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.

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Addiena

Poetry walks;
Bright colors complimenting
The cool shades that fall into place
Above long lashes
Gracefully curved toward the sun.
Poetry stops to answer
An echoing name
Slightly turning
To give off the faint sign of a smile;
A burden that usually falls upon eyes
Instead of the misleading
Arc of pink lips.
Poetry holds close;
Tightly latched to whatever is open;
A hand, an arm…
Perhaps an idea unseen,
Or some hope
Concealed behind the folds of reality.
Poetry looks;
Catching my glimpse
In the corner of a searching eye.
Never a second glance –
No evident stare to guide me in.
Poetry fades;
Pulling back into the crowd.
Safe in numbers from the questions
I could never actually ask.

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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

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The Poetry Of The Old

THE POETRY OF THE OLD

The Poetry of the old
Is a smaller poetry
A more fragile poetry
A quieter poetry.
The Poetry of the old
Does not raise its voice
It sings to itself softly
And does not really hope to be heard.
The poetry of the old
Is a quiet poetry
And its name
Is mostly ‘Sadness’.

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Poetry in Motion

Poetry is like the ocean
Poetry in Motion
Poetry is like a potion
Poetry in Motion
Poetry is like an explosion
Poetry in Motion
Poetry is like some soothing lotion
Poetry in Motion
Poetry is a form of devotion
Poetry in Motion
Poetry represents emotion
Poetry in Motion

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This Poetry

This poetry is not poetry

This poetry is not poetry as poetry goes

But is as silent as a man in a rollo neck jumper

Almost reading yesterdays news

This poetry is not poetry

As far as poetry goes

It is neither verse

Or poesy prose

This is a debunking of 'The poetry'

Everyone knows

And so they are not amused

This poetry is not poetry

So why poetry?

If not

Prose?

It is as idle as a man picking his nose

Pondering a wonderful muse

Yet some, are not amused

Infact if this poetry is Not poetry

What right have I to use, the word poetry?

It is a lovely panacea for expressing and de stressing

The individual's points of view

And yet if not poetry

Who says Not poetry

And who is qualified to choose?

Give me a pocket full of roses

Or a misty morning cloud

Are you amused?

clammy wynette aka Yvette m smith

march 09

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Read my poetry

Read my poetry
My poetry is enough
My poetry is independent
My poetry creates itself.

Read my poetry
My poetry is not mine
Everything belongs to my poetry
My poetry creats itself.

Read my poetry
My poetry is psyche and
Alchemy in me
My poetry is independent of me.

Read my poetry
It agony its ecstasy
Its inspiration
Everything belongs to
My predecessors-poet
Read my poetry
Read my poetry.

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Songs Of Poetry

Poetry is the wave
drenching the sea-shore!
Sea-gull hovering overhead!
Poetry is lilack
Poetry is lily
Poetry is rose
Poetry is cherry!

Poetry tears down the cheek
liquidated in joy!
liquidated in grief!
Poetry consoles the soul!
As glass of sherry!

Poetry draws the out-line
....the cosmos forms!
Poetry paints the blue
....the sky performs!

Poetry waves the desire
...love sings along!
Poetry paves the way
....makes us strong!
Poetry dreams and cry
....erases wrong!

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The Poetry Of Confession

THE POETRY OF CONFESSION

The poetry of confession -
The poetry of self- indulgence-
The poetry of the ‘wretch con-centered all in self’-
The poetry of moods and feelings-
Of all ideas only as they relate to the poet himself-
The poetry of desperation-
The poetry of need-
The poetry of urgency -
And serving the poet first-

Not enough of the world
Not enough of others- of other perspectives
Not formal and disciplined enough-

The poetry which is not crafted and polished
The poetry in which the need of the poet
Is more central than the quality of the poetry –

The poetry which may be too selfish to be good-
Whose moral failure makes more prominent its aesthetic flaws-

The poetry which is not so good
And not great
But quite banal and commonplace –

A poet can give his life to his poetry
And that still be nothing at all-

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