The mystical poetry of William Blake's artwork also forms the basis for the album cover.
quote by Bruce Dickinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry fettered, fetters the human race. Nations are destroyed or flourish in proportion as their poetry, painting, and music are destroyed or flourish.
quote by William Blake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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!
poem by Suvra Bhattacharya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's a tough thing to know that when you're making your album, you're going to end up collaborating with, say, Wal-Mart, on your artwork. That just sucks. And the pressure behind getting the numbers real fast is, to me, dizzying.
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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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jennifersjpgs.shows.it
Last night I had a dream
That suddenly I felt inspired and compelled
To paint a brand new picture.
There I was with paints
Here, there and everywhere,
In a darkened room with this painting
Being created before my very eyes,
The beautiful mixture of shapes,
Forms and vivid colours.
The magnificent outcome was
Something wonderful to me.
Then I realised that next to other paintings
This was merely an average creation,
Nothing outstanding that would
Stand the test of time.
Just another artwork framed
And fixed to a wall, just there
Because I painted it,
Not for anything brilliant or first class
Or some masterpiece.
But when I go online
And search Ebay for artwork
Or visit comic art websites
Or the artists' websites,
Then I find I'm searching a treasure
That only I will know as treasure
When my eyes find it.
Only then will the artwork be special,
Because I'm the one
Who holds it most precious.
Of all the artwork I've ever done,
Only a few are most precious to me.
These will never match the world's finest.
So I take special delight in finding treasure,
Here a little, there a little.
Even if it's not as perfect as I'd like,
Maybe I can enhance the photo image
To a greater degree
Using graphic editor programs and special effects
Or adding spectacular art frames
Around the enhanced image.
I like artwork and fantasy art is spectacular.
That's why I created this website
With a click-a-pic slideshow display.
In full screen height and width
And the effect is stunning!
Website: jennifersjpgs.shows.it
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2011.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXXXVI: Cover
We cover bitterness with satyr
We cover sadness with smile
We cover happiness with tears
We cover pride with stubbornness
We cover anger with jokes
We cover grudge with loyalty
We cover love with play
We cover lust with generosity
We cover sorrow with toughness
We cover ambition with hard work
We cover hope with pessimism
We cover fear with deniable
We cover dream with horror
We cover shame with sarcasm
We cover lone with rebellion
We cover clueless with boasting
We cover ignorance with invisibility
We cover truth with shadow
We cover trouble with distraction
We cover envy with humiliation
We cover lie with innocence
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mystical Rain
Beautiful lights that glare before me,
Magic delights you allow me to see.
Mystical Rain in the sky up above,
Mystical Rain throwing stardust of love.
A surreal sight as I stand and adore,
Leading the way - so that men reach the shore.
Mystical Rain in the air all around,
Mystical Rain making love without sound.
Marvelous specks of desire in my view,
Lightly you peck at my face like the dew.
Mystical Rain; blue metallic and green.
Mystical Rain; play your tune quite serene.
A show so alive as you dart through the sky,
Helping planes through the mist, where pilots do fly.
Mystical Rain; shine your light in my path.
Mystical Rain warm my heart; make me laugh.
poem by Angel Crabtree
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry Has Some Advantages
Poetry has some advantages
Over other forms of Literature-
It is ordinarily smaller than most other kinds of writing
It can be read in a shorter time-
People who would not try to write in more demanding forms
Can try to write in it-
Its subject is human feeling
It touches on our deepest experiences-
Almost everyone has a poem in them
And most a poem they have been moved by-
It is everywhere
And seems to be a part of every culture-
Language at its most intense is what Poetry is
And most of us have our intense moments-
Poetry is open to us all
And we can take it with us wherever we go.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is true that short forms of poetry have been cultivated in the Far East more than in modern Europe; but in all European literature short forms of poetry are to be found - indeed quite as short as anything in Japanese.
quote by Lafcadio Hearn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Klopstock England Defied
When Klopstock England defied,
Uprose William Blake in his pride;
For old Nobodaddy aloft
. . . and belch'd and cough'd;
Then swore a great oath that made Heaven quake,
And call'd aloud to English Blake.
Blake was giving his body ease,
At Lambeth beneath the poplar trees.
From his seat then started he
And turn'd him round three times three.
The moon at that sight blush'd scarlet red,
The stars threw down their cups and fled,
And all the devils that were in hell,
Answerèd with a ninefold yell.
Klopstock felt the intripled turn,
And all his bowels began to churn,
And his bowels turn'd round three times three,
And lock'd in his soul with a ninefold key; . . .
Then again old Nobodaddy swore
He ne'er had seen such a thing before,
Since Noah was shut in the ark,
Since Eve first chose her hellfire spark,
Since 'twas the fashion to go naked,
Since the old Anything was created . . .
poem by William Blake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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...
poem by Akash Agrawal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's impossible to make a picture without values. Values are the basis. If they are not, tell me what is the basis.
quote by William Morris Hunt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear Poetry
Don't rhyme, Poetry.
Our thoughts and tongues don't think that way.
Steer clear of meter, sweet Poetry.
I'm tired of counting and scanning.
Liberate yourself from the chains of Tradition
and become yourself, Poetry.
I know your laws like a son knows his father's,
Reading your tales from Burns, Blake, and Donne.
I know your anatomy like a physician
and I practiced, practice, practicing.
And like the teenager I am, Poetry,
I rebelled.
I became an individually packaged poet
Pen sold separately.
And all by choice, too.
Keep your tradition, and I'll start mine.
I'll visit, and I expect you to call,
But for now I'll stick with my philosophical prose and
small machines of thought.
Thank you though, Tree of Poetry
I hope I don't fall far from you.
poem by Eli MorenoDrew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jekyll and Hyde Psychology
My tongue is like a viperous snake
Waiting to latch onto a nervous victim
Who senses my evil mood of paranoid defensiveness
But still she walks slowly into the room.
Maybe she thought she knew me,
That I have a sweet smile, definitely a gentle man,
Maybe we could meet, exchange civility,
Later, that I would ask her out for a drink.
This is all Jekyll and Hyde psychology!
The slightest thing can set me spinning
Into a downward spiral of unrelenting depression:
Hearing a song on the radio
That meant something to me
When I was in love, could make me cry
Or fly ruthlessly off the handle!
She introduces herself and says,
“I’ve met your sister at church,
She says you like to read
The prophetic poetry of William Blake.”
I reply sarcastically, “You’ve met
The wrong sister, I only read
The pathetic trial transcripts of Robert Blake, ”
Then I turn around and leave!
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Critics
At a misty lake
Twelve critics asked
Old William Blake,
What is poetry?
As evening descended
The poet produced a ginger
And pointed to the moon
But they saw only
His finger.
Then an optimistic man
Recited Walt Whitman
To his sole companion
A young stallion.
And the keen
Sentient horse
Heard more
Than the prose.
poem by Paul Hartal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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.
poem by Eric Graham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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quotes From Poets On Poetry
** QUOTES FROM POETS ON
POETRY
The great Shakespeare in his ‘A Midsummer
Night’s Dream’,
Speaks of poetry as ‘forms of things unknown,
The poet’s pen turns them to shape,
And gives to airy nothing a local habitation
and a name’!
John Ashbery had always felt, that ‘poetry
all the time goes on in his head’, -
And ‘occasionally he snips off a length’!
For Coleridge, ‘prose is arrangement of words
in their best order’,
But ‘poetry is the best words in their best order’!
For Paul Engle, poetry is ‘ordinary language
raised to the N-th power’,
While for William Wordsworth it is a continuous
shower, -
And ‘a spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings,
Of emotions recollected in tranquility’, - is fairly
healing!
Shelley in his ‘Defense of Poetry’ sincerely felt,
That ‘poetry lifts the veil, from the hidden beauty
of the world’,
Making ‘the familiar objects be as if they were
not familiar’!
While Carl Sandburg speaks of poetry as, -
‘The journal of a sea animal living on land,
Wanting to fly in the air’, - as high as it possibly
can!
Robert Graves declared rather candidly, -
That ‘if there’s no money in poetry’, one need
not feel sorry,
Since there is ‘neither any poetry in money’!
I conclude with Robert Frost, who always felt,
That writing a ‘poem is discovering as he
progressed’,
Since for him, ‘poetry never had a pre-meditated
end’!
-Raj Nandy
New Delhi
26 Feb 09
(** The words of our famous poets/authors, have
been placed in ‘inverted commas’.)