Dullard's Diatribe
Life is poetry, how it can be!
Life is without rhyme and rhythm,
Poets seek flow and mystic music,
Life lacks both and stumbles like a freak,
All these are make believe and a false promise,
Truth lies in meter and foot, a fool's paradise!
Life, poetry, truth and beauty in different tracts,
Truth is bitter beauty is sweet, in fact a true fact.
So No truth and no beauty in poetry, all are bogus
A hoodwinking, blackmailing and logically fallacious.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Related quotes
A Big Or Brief Poetry......!
Big or brief, what is poetry?
Poetry is......
Creating beauty out of blemish,
Making order out of disorder,
Producing meaning out of musical words,
Creating Universal truth out of trivialities,
Arranging points out of less known facts!
Is poetry just making rhythm and rhyme
Without meaning, life, force and taste,
Without free flowing musical words,
Without words of music, beauty, fun?
Poetry is free flowing river of words
With full of images, lively and lovely,
Transporting from this world to that world
Forgetting himself and readers here!
Just end rhyme is not enough to make it so;
Internal rhymes make music in rhythm
Making all enjoy music, meaning and ideas!
Poetry is the medium to say complex things
Not possible to say in other forms of language,
Saying unknown things using known things;
It is sound, substance, message and meaning!
And many more matters to many men in the world!
poem by Ramesh T A
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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
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A Fun Or Fate Poetry Writing?
Poetry writing has become a matter of fun!
With play of words many indulge in this fun;
Fun without fact will make poetry quite inept.
Fun or fate, some write poetry with true fact!
There are many things for them to have fun,
But it has become easy to play in poetry sites.
Also there are comments, voting and ranking;
These make them play this game regularly!
Fact is some are born poets in these sites also!
It is quite true some become poets sooner here!
Also it happens that some are branded as poets!
So goes the survival of these sites by this fun!
No poetry can survive long without fun and fact;
Fun or fate, poetry has become a part of life ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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The Everlasting Throes of Those
The Everlasting Throes
Of Those
Who Argue about Poetry versus Prose
And about the Propriety or Crime
Of Meter and Rhyme
In Poetry:
as I see it, it’s back to the ancient Greek idea
of three near-absolutes – Truth, Beauty and Goodness
and although they’re all absolute in their aim,
and therefore theoretically equal,
most of us, I suspect, have our personal order for this list
those who put Truth first at all costs are more likely
to write prose; but if they love beauty in words
and have the urge to write something beautiful in words
they may try poetry; but to them,
rhyme is untruthful, dishonest, because
looking for a rhyme
becomes a crime:
and leads your mind away from the strict Truth.
while those who put Beauty first don’t have
a fixed attitude – they may, as children do,
love the formal music of hearing about
A certain Mrs Dhutti
Who was very slightly nutty
She wouldn’t wear a saree
As her arms and legs were hairy
And thought it was much better
To wear trousers and a sweater
etc.
or they may feel that their response to the world
is so full of love, of awe, of wonder
(of which Aristotle said the second and third
are shared by philosophers, that is, lovers - note the word - of wisdom,
and poets – though a poet
may not know it…)
where was I oh yes, their response to the world
is most truly - note the word - expressed
in free verse
which may be better poetry
or worse
and what about Goodness – oh let’s not
get into that: the poetry Forums are full of the emptiness
(though it’s a necessary evil, looked at in a way)
of poets and readers and critics saying
what’s good poetry and what’s bad
according to them and feeling
they’ve made a contribution to
Truth, Goodness, and Beauty, in that order
by pronouncing this.
some few, some worthy few, and I’ll mention no names
for reasons not unconnected as Milton might put it
with the previous stanza,
whose brilliance of that servant mind which we all share,
manages to juggle Beauty, Goodness and Truth,
in that order in this instance, and not only juggle but
remain faithful to them all; we could call them
The Absolutely Great – they speak straight from heart to heart
and they don’t worry about prosaic considerations like the above
because they’ve got it all, all this, within their art; within
their constant heart.
(Readers, please note,
that last line’s a quote.)
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Cold Day Hot Poetry
Cold day hot poetry
Truth is here
With false sorry.
Poetry is true
World is false
This is not my story.
Words are not under my control
It is word I
That is to see.
I care not what you say
I care only truth and truth
And truth that only I say.
Excuse me if I am not able to touch
But I have got a lot of love
To you all living and non-living
I Love you and I seek your blessing.
I am hopeful and this world is wonderful
My wife is beautiful and my work is successful
You are my grand master and life is nectar-full.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Actual Beauty!
Beauty without love will meet with the fate of Dorian Gray!
Beauty is the outer make up to make one look better;
Actual beauty differs from apparent one in almost all cases.
Actual beauty is inner love glowing bright out attractive at once;
True beauty is inner beauty naturally impressive in all respects.
Beauty lies in the perfection of thoughts, words and deeds in all;
Beauty is truth, perfection, love, freedom, joy and peace in one!
Art is a work of beauty as adequate expression only can complete it;
Poetry is an art as it makes beauty out of chaos logically meaningful.
Architectural work of Pyramid or Pisa is a frozen beauty of symmetry!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Potential Poetry!
Love has no fear whatsoever in the world;
Poet does all by his love of all matters here;
Poetry is inspiring words of poet for all!
What's not possible by poetry is nothing!
Impossible is expressed in possible words
Making unknown known by poetry only!
Forms and style are poets own creations;
Poetry is ever new in expression of ideas
Inspiring all to be enthusiastic, enlightened!
Love of Nature, life, beauty and love poetry
Explores always deep to express truth new!
Poets are gods of Earth to men to new realm!
Poetry briefly converges all in a nutshell
As powerful as atomic energy in control!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Have I Lost The 'Visionary Gleam?
HAVE I LOST ‘THE VISIONARY GLEAM?
Have I lost the ‘visionary gleam’?
Did I ever have it?
Is Death ‘luckier than we’ think
Or ‘lucky’ at all?
How supreme can a fiction be?
And whoever really has drunk ‘the milk’ of paradise?
Why should a rose be sick or dead?
And why should ‘patience to prevent that murmur reply’?
Who said ‘The glory of God is davka in dappled things?
And what kind of fool compares what he builds to what ‘birds build’?
Can a skeptic be a poet in a real way?
Can poetry be read by those who doubt the truth of its lines?
Wasn’t he who said beauty is truth and truth beauty dying and lying at the same time?
What does it mean to steal a line of someone else‘s great beauty
And turn it into one’s own petty gripe?
Poetry is better served by the real thing,
Than by pastiches and parodies
And skeptical borrowers
And fake rivals in anxiety of influence-
One can take from the vast book of the living dead
The most treasured lines
And betray them into irony and silliness-
Yet those lines out-top the little later commentators
And make me wonder why I exercise my mind
In vain exercises like this
Instead of trying to write the true poetry-
‘Life is real life is earnest and the grave is not the goal’
Here he lies where he longed to be, home is the sailor home from the sea and the hunter from the hill’
Master of my fate, captain of my soul?
Do not take the lines literally
Read them with love and understanding
When they say something meaningful and beautiful to you
Hold on to them.
A poem is a poem for a that
Even for the wee slick cowrin beasties.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Truth, The Lie And The Fact
The truth, the lie and the fact have met.
Let’s listen to their chat!
The truth told to the fact: Everyone lies.
The fact answered: Here is my advice:
Don’t be in a hurry with the conclusion
As everything in this world is an illusion.
The truth said:
Who will remember me?
Whose conscience will gnaw?
Will the lie accept a nondiscriminatory law?
It’s hard to tell the truth,
It’s easier to lie.
You have to forsooth,
Otherwise I’ll die.
The lie was near by listening.
What nonsense your are saying!
I am so important in man’s life.
I help in a strife.
The lie was graceful.
It was beautiful and playful.
It was not jealous but sweet,
So, darling it was, indeed!
From it’s sweet lips
The words flowed like the streamlets.
All those flattering words
Everyone took for the truth.
It lied without blush.
It tried everything to hush,
But so many men had problems
If the lie they welcomed.
People would like the lie to banish,
They would like the lie to vanish.
They would like it never be near,
Into their life to interfere.
And the lie has quickly decided
To make the union with the truth.
It was so nicely guided
By the cutest sleuth.
So, today the truth and the lie
Over the whole land fly.
Where is the truth? Where is the lie?
Can anyone tell if it’s so well?
The fact was left alone.
Only by God it was well known.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
April the 1st,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Unspoken truth
The truth hidden in me
Is the thing nobody can see.
I am acting as a treasure keeper,
Hiding it to be discovered.
Truth has its own fate
Reality is known by it.
After knowing the truth,
You will know what it worth.
Things seen by eye and heard by ear
Will not be believed and not to be care.
This is the only truth unspoken.
It’s thee truth of life,
Hide it to survive.
If anybodies knows
Please don’t let it to flow.
If shared than gone,
All will run towards the throne.
Beauty of life end there
When unspoken truth of life is know here.
poem by Amar Ghimire
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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
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The perception of truth
Fact exists, truth needs to be believed
My truth is important to me
I also understand that
Your truth is important, to you
My life is not just a single truth
But a village of many kinds of truth
The version you believe, may be different from mine
And both versions are true, to each of us
The duality of truth
Fights for resolution
And yet, coexists
Quietly, when it needs to
Funny concept this truth
Does fact indeed exist?
And do we really need,
To believe the truth?
Are both just empty shadows
We chase, to play our role
In a divine comedy
For an audience of one
poem by Anita Atina
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Poets and Poetry
Poets love writing poetry Poetry releases there feelings there are all kinds of poetry, but poetry is in all life nothing can change that. Poets and Poetry is always around us this poetry is about poetry so you decide if you want poetry in your life.
poem by Jeeva Premachandran
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Beauty or Truth
How shall I love you
................in beauty or in truth?
Your beauty is plain to see,
Not something you can hide.
Your truth must you freely give me.
So deeply within you it abides.
I prefer to touch your beauty,
There in your eyes where it glows.
I cannot feel the truth
That in you somewhere grows.
I cannot taste the truth,
Sweet words in your mouth,
From deeper thoughts where it lies,
But your lips are tasty buds of everything alive.
I cannot smell the truth
................of your firmament,
But the perfume of your beauty
.................is the fragrance I long to sense.
I will love you in your beauty
.................embrace your breasts and womanness
And I will love you in your truth
.................nestled in your inner essence
I cannot desire the one and not the other.
I’m compelled to feel the beauty of your charms
And in your arms embrace the treasure of who you are
....................— even if it takes an eternity.
poem by Ben Gieske
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Paradox of Truth
The most subtle lies art the greatest truth
Like the fairy tales of our imaginative youth
Each truth a paradox, a lie does tell
A truth somewhere in mythical spell
When one lies, truth still speaks
For in everything doth truth seek
To express itself to hearts to behold
The truth of life in every lie told
Told in such eloquent song
There is truth in something especially wrong
Rhetoric, myths, ignorance and lies
Truth in all, every truth belies.
If thou don't believe it is certainly true
For to believe is true to me and you
And in this poem if you believe no truth
Let this poem be truth's own proof….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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To see life,
To see life,
To see life is to see trust,
To see life and make us suffer for truth's,
To see life is to grow in an environment that is good,
To understand the Spiritual meaning of glory,
To see life is find an ether,
To see life is to make us see Beauty,
To see life is to make a commitment of Truth's,
Either way,
Responsibility is making life easier,
To see life is loving from the soul,
There are many lesson's that man hast to learn,
That we are very weak to see what is making us lose.
poem by Maxpoet Beauty
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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
poem by Daniel Romero
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Sonnet: On Good Poetry
The cause if noble, needs an effort great;
If nobler still, the struggle must be more;
If willed by God, unaltered 'tis by Fate;
Yes, Poetry has Life, its soul as core;
True Poetry is written from one's heart;
Its glory and beauty is forever;
Without a doubt, it involves effort, art;
Profound's the joy, evoked in each reader.
Good Poetry's a river flowing ev'r;
The Poet's mark is writ, 'etched', on its face;
Time cannot steal its beauty, value, pow'r;
It grows in fact, in height and girth and base.
Good Poetry's a sacrifice too great,
To God and Earthlings that can ne'er abate.
poem by John Celes
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Life Is More Than Poetry
LIFE IS MORE THAN POETRY
Life is more than Poetry
And Poetry less than Life
And what we live and die for
More than we can write.
But Poetry has a meaning
And a Beauty of its own
And Life more a blessing
When read beyond its prose.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I love poetry
What if the world don't recognize poetry?
What if poetry is banned in my country?
What if poetry has no meaning?
What if those who later care can't view my handwriting?
What if my poetry puts me in prison?
For it reveals the truth untold this season!
What if bard's brain is blunt?
And again famished then faint?
For my poetry makes truth to smile
What if in the prison i die?
And maggots dine in my belly
Still i love poetry.
poem by Adesitimi Taiwo
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