Humility
Great poets fire the world with fagots big
That make a crackling racket,
But I'm content with but a whispering twig
To warm some single jacket.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Poem about Poery - Poetic World
a hindrance for poets
are those who read
some poems and
think they know what
all poets are up to
they live in a world
of make believe -
a poetic world indeed
that somehow clashes
with the actual poetic world
if the rain would just fall
down in one straight line
the ants all created in a single rank
and the wind, blowing from
one lasting direction
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hallmark of Poetry
Every day, the sun sets
you noticed?
in a great, glorious performance
of wraparound scenic splendour
as if it were the last day of the world
(we'd sue)
and all around the world
poets who've been chewing on their pencils all day
or gazing steamy-eyed at an empty screen
without as we poets say, the Muse whispering
an ode we're owed
as poets
wonder if it could be one last chance
to write the ultimate sunset poem
to get something down today
and justify our existence beyond existing
noting that at sunset
the red flowers in the garden glow so intensely
that you can feel it on your eyeballs
and the sunlight just when the sun disappears
lights up the whole landscape like a floodlight
on the stage set of our lives
that sort of stuff
then next morning the sun
rises on our ultimate sunset poem
and later sets
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Poet's Significant Other - for Mary and Todd
On the shelf above the crackling fire,
the day’s work over, shadows swaying and flickering
across the room, in the firelight’s glow;
here is love abiding
On the shelf above the crackling fire
a few slim books, some of them poetry, some of them signed;
open them and the world spills out
tumbles laughing and crying, shouting
like children home from school with stories;
like grandparents reminiscing over photos with a smile;
like the last of the night’s pillow talk
one already eyes closed, the other treasuring thought
On the shelf above the crackling fire
two bookends hold the books in place
pressing lightly against each other
as two lovers walking through a door, a gate, from here to there
one bookend’s image we know well
familiar to us from the books
How little we know, of that other bookend
without which, without whom,
there might not be these books, lightly pressing
on the shelf above love’s glow
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Single Is Fair
Single
I am single
Question of double
Does not arise.
I am single
Only single.
Single sun
Single moon
Single earth
Single air
Single sky
Sngle water
Single fire
Single soul
Single body
All are there
All are fair.
Single is single
Single is beautiful
Single is fair.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Snowed In
The slanting sleet
pounds against my window
it's not to long
'til the sleet turns to snow
I light the fire
keeping warm and content
I'll just keep waiting
for the weather to relent
The snow keeps falling
by now piling up high
the comfort of a good book
as the day is drawing nigh
rapped in my blanket
that I, myself, made
I look outside
and see how much has laid
the fire, now coals
I stir the orange embers
I sit on the couch
to just sit and remember
now it's off to bed
where I'll be warm and content
maybe as I sleep
the weather will relent
poem by Kellsey Hartmann
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There are fagots and fagots (all are not alike).
In the world of poetry there are would-be poets, workshop poets, promising poets, lovesick poets, university poets, and a few real poets.
quote by James Broughton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Like Fire
Well I met her downtown
I think wed spoken
I think wed spoken once before
The sound was loud
I said yeah, I said yeah give me more
And something deep inside
Started engines of desire
And yknow there aint a chance
Of stopping love, love like fire
Love like fire
She was great so great to be with
I felt so good when she was there
My time was coming at me
And I swore Id never care
And I thought there aint nothing else
All the poets here are liars
When youre chasing something real
You get burnt by love like fire
Love like fire
I thought she likes the rest
And I know Im in control
I can take it or I can leave it
You can forget that lovers role
The world you thought you knew
Gets strangled by the wire
And you crash while running blind
Destroyed by love, love like fire
Love like fire
Love like fire
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For All The Poets
FOR ALL THE POETS
This is a poem for all the poets who have no name,
For all those who have written and failed,
And for those who have not written,
And failed.
This is a poem for all the poets who dreamed themselves poets,
And were never, and will be known as poets
To the world.
This a poem for all those
Who after years of effort
Still live in an oblivion
They will die in.
This is a poem for all those
Who whether they have poetry in them or not,
Will never be heard or read,
For what their hearts must tell
Someone else.
This is a poem for all the silent poets
Those who live in silence
And whose silence is eternal
For all those whose only poetry
is the poem they have lived within themselves.
This is a poem for all those who would- be poets
And a poem for those
Who despite their efforts
Did not make their poem known.
This is a poem which may be for you,
And I know is for me
A confession
To make us less alone.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Whispered
Why Whispering
Where we can express our self to the world
Why Whispering
When we have something to say
Why Whispering
When we have to fight to survive
How can we stay alive
When we are whispering
Know your rights
Know what you were born for
KNOW when you have to stand and fight for yourself
No Need to Whispered
poem by Guenael Oristel
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I believe that the brain has evolved over millions of years to be responsive to different kinds of content in the world. Language content, musical content, spatial content, numerical content, etc.
quote by Howard Gardner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Beautiful Song
A Beautiful Song. (Ink Spots)
“I don’t want to set the world on fire” what a lovely song.
But I’m disturbed by sparrows, sit in my orange tree and
make a racket, so much for bird song. Out on the terrace
I stretch out my arms pretend to be an eagle, they fly off.
But they soon return realising I’m not much of an eagle.
I throw pebbles at them, terrified miniature mountains,
that only get to fly when someone, say, me throws them.
I still hear the sparrows sit in my neighbour’s orange tree,
argue about territories and no- fly- zones. A flurry of angry
wings, what is this a civil war? High above on the blue sky,
a bald eagle circles. “I don’t want to set the world on fire.”
poem by Oskar Hansen
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When I was a freelancer, I thought this journalism thing was a racket, and now that I'm where I am now, I know it's a racket.
quote by Tabitha Soren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good Poets and Bad Poets
Some poets get awards and think they are good poets.
Some poets never get awards and think they are bad poets.
Some poets think they are good poets only in their own mind
Some poets think they are bad poets in somebody's else mind.
Some poets think they are good poets in somebody else mind.
Some poets think others think they are good poets but they don't in their hearts.
Some poets think they are good poets in their hearts but not in anyone else's mind.
All are insecure, except those who get security from the opinions of others and that, alas, doesn't last and isn't real.
Some poets have left the entire scene and live only in their mind.
Some poets take criticism and don't mind.
Some poets avoid criticism and do mind.
Some poets write poetry to get love.
Some poets love to write poetry.
Some poets are ahead of their time, in their mind
Some poets spend a lifetime feeling like failures in their mind
Some poets live only after they die.
Some poets have much to say but can't articulate
Some poets retreat, believing others don't understand
So which one of these am I?
I guess I am all of these and none of these
and no matter what my description
I intend to keep doing what I do:
Write. Right
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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A poor pen
Pen is
Not great...
On the paper...
poet write at
Moon+ sky...
Stars...
Earth and sea...
All are in poets
Hand only
At poets hand...
Poets is think...
Poets dream...
Thats all
pen is very poor
Noock out...
undrestad to try...
Try too under stand....
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Passions Heat
A warm inviting fire
Incense burning sweet
Come to me my darling
For a night of passion, heat
Join me on the floor
Where fluffy pillows surround
Crackling pops from the fire
Break silence, and give sound
No words tonight exchanged
Yet heart on heart we speak
Resound judgement spills
Fragrance of lovers leak
Sweet kisses smoother skin
Lips quiver a mating dance
Moistened mouths connect
In Lust, love and romance
A warm inviting fire
Incense burning sweet
Come to me my darling
For a night of passion, heat
Copyright 2007 W. Bureau
poem by Wendy Bureau
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Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different.
quote by T.S. Eliot (1920)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What I Like About You
What I like about you
You hold me tight
Tell me I'm the only one
Wanna come over tonight?
Keep on whispering in my ear
Tell me all the things that I want to hear
'Cause it's true
That's what I like about you
What I like about you
You really know how to dance
When you go up down, jump around
Talk about about true romance
Keep on whispering in my ear
Tell me all the things that I want to hear
'Cause it's true
That's what I like about you
That's what I like about you
That's what I like about you
What I like about you
You keep me warm at night
Never wanna let you go
You know you make me feel alright
Keep on whispering in my ear
Tell me all the things that I want to hear
'Cause it's true
That's what I like about you
That's what I like about you
That's what I like about you
That's what I like about you
That's what I like about you
That's what I like about you
That's what I like about you
song performed by by Ramones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 18
Ten men eat at a table but two dogs will contend for one piece of carrion. A greedy person will still be hungry with the whole world, whilst a contented man will be satisfied with one bread. Wise men have said that poverty with content is better than wealth and not abundance.
Narrow intestines may be filled with dry bread
But the wealth of the surface of the world will not fill a greedy eye.
When the term of my father’s life had come to an end
He gave me this one advice and passed away:
Lust is fire, abstain therefrom,
Make not the fire of hell sharp for thee.
In that fire the burning thou wilt not be able to bear,
Quench this fire with water today.