Jewels
A pen that has been dipped in mud
Writes poems that loses meaning
Its message falls into a thud
A sad demise to the art of writing.
Like jewels that are badly stained
Smutty words abort its value,
Whatever beauty has been gained
Dissolves in verses that fall through.
A poem need not have verbal dirt
To catch a few hollow attention
Revealing true poetic worth
Gives it that genuine valuation.
A writer's poems are life jewels
Precious gems in verses of gold,
Of great value when written well-
Such a blessing to behold.
.......... ................................................. ......................
'Every man's work is always a portrait of himself.'
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Sometimes I Find Poems
Sometimes I find poems
Like they were jewels in the sand
So excellently written
A blessing to read and understand.
Sometimes I find poems
Composed like it was a work of art
The writer weaving word tapestry
As he writes diligently from his heart.
Sometimes I find poems
Laced with just verbal grime
With random musings or lost words
That to read them is a total waste of time.
So to the writers who value the pen
With all respect, I give you my salute
With the hope you keep writing again and again
And to this site your work you contribute!
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All I Can Do Now Is Write Another Poem
All I can do now is write another poem-
The poems are small,
And do not require the long hours and long years
Of the books-
Like the world as a whole
I seem to have a shorter attention span
And less patience-
A poem can be written and given a name
In minutes not years-
Though some would say a great poem
Takes the travail of years of waiting
And years of work-
But I did not say
‘All I can do now is write another great poem'
Perhaps I have in all the years of the nights never written one-
I can write the poems I write
My kinds of poems
In a fairly short time-
All I can do now
Is write another of my kind of poems-
Whether they be worth anything,
Or not.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetical Injustice,
Poetical Injustice,
They say poetry is all the feign verses,
It's a lie,
A big lie,
Poetry liers and false prophets,
To write false feigned verses,
Maybe like poetic injustice,
The vices I hate,
Hate poems,
Never knew anything about optimism,
Poetical blasphemies,
The false samaritan,
The Jezebel,
I saw her here,
Telling me,
Poet is the lie,
This is a Blasphemy,
Poet came from the true prophets,
The Saint's of these verses,
Words are life,
To speak Poetry in parables solved the mystery,
Poetry in parables, ?
What was it's meaning, ?
It was written,
All about truths and lies,
Eventually written,
Now I see,
Poetry is the Euphony,
The enigma,
The Spirit of Realism,
Nihilism, all the diction,
Poetical Justice,
Taste's like a web on all hall that never fade or fake,
But increase with depth,
Depth of realness, Poetical analysis,
Lyrical genius,
Poetical liers got to end,
Tell the Stars all about these,
For my message will go everwhere.
poem by Maxim Muyu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Writer's gift
The flow of ink in the writer’s pen
The flow of thoughts in the writer’s mind
A golden thread joining the sweet words
An enduring garland fresh with thoughts
A precious gem, worthier than gold
An epic in itself, the writer’s gift
No word is spoken, yet the tale is told
His mind speaks, his heart speaks
He blows life in each of his creation
The verses breath, the verses speak
The writer dies, yet the verses live
poem by Kavitha Krishnamurthy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Wanted My Poem To Be A Real Poem
I WANTED MY POEM TO BE A REAL POEM
I wanted my poem to be a real poem-
I have read and studied and memorized
So many real poems-
I wanted my poem to be one of them
Which others would read and feel and memorize
And make their own –
We want and we want and we want
And who are we with all our wanting?
Who am I with all my wanting?
One more dreamer
One more ambitious person
One more lover of poems
One more writer of poems
One more wanter of real poems
Who writes this poem
For others
who dream like me
of writing real poems.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Poet Tried To Shackle My Words
A poet tried to shackle my words,
as if from every poem
the message was stripped,
as if nowhere there was any mastery
of rhythm and sound to be found
as if I had sold my soul
to masses of people reading my verses,
as if I live in disrespect
to the expertise that a great poet
displays in his work
as if every line of mine
was just a wild cacophony
that I had flung together
in a utter hurry
to shower down on crowds of people.
Yet I while I swam against a tempest sea,
sticking to the truth and integrity,
trying to find answers to life’s mysteries
and problems
trying to expose injustice and oppression
there was boasting about a elitis clique
that totally excludes me
but they were going along the path
of political correctness and maybe indifference,
being far too scared to ruffle some feathers,
writing verses sixty times over and over
before they were becoming poems somehow,
before their words were catching some magic
believing that a great poem,
is like a jigsaw puzzle,
that you have got to unravel
with a dictionary,
where simple words can fuse together
with a own type of magic,
lacking in the ability
to find poetry in ordinary things,
to create poetry in lines
that by themselves fuses together
to create something great
but my words kept on coming,
falling into lines,
as if designed by a divine presence
and by themselves fused
into much deeper meaning
than I could find with my own abilities.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Poem I Am Writing Now
The poem I am writing now
does not know if it will be finished
it does not even know if it will be a poem -
it is slowly appearing line by line
and making its own meaning on the page-
Is it worth anything?
will anyone care?
I don't know -
The poem I am writing now
is just these lines
and these lines like all lines
are only small words
in a vast universe
that has long lived
and will probably longer live
without them.
Why then write these words now?
The poem I am writing now is saying,
'I am here now'.
But why should this mean anything to anyone else?
The poem I have written here
is not the poem I would have posted here
It is only the poem I am finishing now
a poem without great love or belief in itself.
The poem I am writing now
is written.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The History Poems Have Not Been Written
The history poems have not been written
The poems after Milosz
The Wallace Stevens poems will never be written
I can’t come close
I have tried the Blake poems
But of course I am not near them either
I would like to the ironic intellectual poems
I might be able to do them
I could do a kind of surrealistic association mind poem a prose poem
But I don’t like that very much
The poems of Jerusalem have not been good enough
Poems of propaganda are awkward and unacceptable
The small poems that tell of my life
They are for me the chance at real poetry
And I will continue as best I can with them
The American poems I have not yet found the idiom for
I can be epigrammatic in Emerson Thoreau fashion
But not with the hard New England observing eye
Borges poems I love
And the stories of mind and literature
Making the drama of a life of a storyteller
Interest me
But I doubt I could truly do them well
Imitation can only take one so far
And through it one may lose one’s way entirely
I can really do only what I am
Not the Dickinson poems nor the Hopkins poems nor the Wordsworth poems nor the Keats poems nor the Amichai poems nor the poems of many others whose poetry I love
The Biblical poems have been tried
The poems of cosmic and scientific reflection
I could try to improve them
There are too many different kinds of poems to write
And I cannot write almost all of them
This is another poem about poems and poetry
I have written many for a long time now
Perhaps I need to go elsewhere and write in a new way
A way I have not dreamed or even remotely understood possible before.
The poems of the unknown poetry await me
I will go on but I am not sure now I know in which wa
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Few Poems Are Remembered
FEW POEMS ARE REMEMBERED
Few poems are remembered -
Few poems are ever really known-
Few poems are chosen -
Few poems make us want to return to them again and again-
Out of thousands written every day
Perhaps one poem in a decade
Perhaps less.
This is not the poem.
One can write a lifetime
Without ever writing one such poem.
Most of us never write the poem
And most of us are not remembered either.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Expressing God
God talks to me when I write,
letting me know through wisdom and sight.
The sight to observe and be consciously aware,
to express through writing what I can share.
Share thoughts on life and nature’s mystery,
put ideas and beliefs to pen for all to see.
The truth and laws of the universe,
three dimensional life is a blessing, not a curse.
Being a change agent by writing poems,
poems that might inspire people
while reading at home.
Maybe I will some day know,
That poetry writing is worth all
it’s weight in gold.
Written by Christina Sunrise on September 23,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Her Beautiful Fragrance
Poems are my life
My feelings are not fake
I swear to god, I have loved her
However, she could never be mine.
Not even poetry can express how deeply I did love her
Still her beautiful complexion
Is everywhere in my poetry
Her beautiful fragrance, still I can breathe
Everywhere, I see her and feel
Never, have I ever been so close to her
Especially now when she is no more mine
I do not know anything
The perfume she applied, I still can feel
Poems are my life
She was a perfect poem and still I am trying to pen her into verses
These are verses of love as well pain
Forever, I will feel her
Even though she can never be mine
My sweet sugar I will describe her to be
Poems are my life and I do not know anything other than her
Her beautiful fragrance, I still breathe.
poem by Rohit Sapra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All These Poems About Poems
All these poems about poems
Where do they lead?
The world is so rich in so many other things
Write poems about them.
At twilight I look out
At strangers walking
To do their errands of preparation
for Sukkot.
A poem should have some Beauty in it
And not just be an effort at recording observations-
The scarlet bright flowers rage at me from the distance
I cannot translate their Beauty to words -
There is so much I have seen
And so much I will never write –
And so many Poems beyond my Imagination.
All these poems about my failing at poetry
And about translating the Beauty of the world to words-
This is a poem I not know how to properly finish.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Have Written Many Poor Poems
I have written many poor poems
That may not be poems at all -
They are single in dimension
Prose
In short lines of seemingly poetic form-
They do not call for their rereading
They are not difficult in ambiguities-
They seem to me only one simple clearly understood thing-
Like this poem
They can be understood at once
And forgotten soon after.
I have written many poor poems
That may not be poems at all
And this is another one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Poetry Groupies
Where are the poetry groupies
Those girls who’d give their hand for a poem
Who’d lay down for a verse so finely written
In the hope of some poetic dedication
If I write it, will they then come
To pay homage, adoration to my pen
Where are the girls who’d give their all for a poem
Those who are drawn to such a man
A romantic who writes to seduce
To sway the heads of each pretty girl
With poetic tales of a great love
How beautiful the object of all affection
What are all these poems and tales worth
If this question remains unanswered
Where are the poetry groupies
Who’d give their hand to a poem
And their all to a poet
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Wrote A Poem I Could Not Write
I wrote a poem I could not write-
And then when I tried to write it again
Could not write it again -
Poems written and not written
Words and more words
What do they mean?
Paradoxes and games with words
What do they mean?
If there is Beauty in the language
It is one thing
But words just to hear themselves think,
Why should they mean ‘Remembrance'?
Oh Words oh Questions oh Darkness oh Life-
Let me write myself to the grave
Believing at least
That poems too even when they can be written
Have their small unhidden meanings.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The power of words
Sometimes when you had
an idea for a poem
you didn’t jot it down
and let it be
to fade away into the naught
as if it really didn’t matter
or your words had lost their power
or was there a hidden fear,
something that you didn’t
want to talk about
or something that you didn’t
want to appear,
something that you were afraid
would kill your luck
or disturb your thoughts?
When we spoke at times
you would sarcastically say
go and write a poem about it
and I wonder if you really
didn’t care about writing
or just not about me
or was it jealousy?
Sometimes when the words
of a great poem came to me
you would demand that I immediately
do something for you
to proof my love
and not give me the opportunity
to capture the sacred words.
Yet, as time went by
and I had to leave
the words came back to you
and great verses appeared
and you said that I could string out
poems to the nth power
and wanted me
to write great messages as well
and I was afraid that card like lines
would kill the magic of words in me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Last Poem Was Written Again And Again
THE LAST POEM WAS WRITTEN AGAIN AND AGAIN
The last poem was written again and again
It said ‘All the poems have been written. There is no new poem to write.’
Writing it again now
I wonder how I dare demand the attention
Of any possible reader.
Aren’t they all as fed up with me
As I sometimes am with myself?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Life Art
Life Art
I want to write you a poem.
One that contains no verses
no words
how long it will be
I cannot tell.
It will be a poem that you can see through
yet it will shade you from the sun
a simple lyric
as complex as a crossword
I want it to be something
that you carry through your day
every day
I don’t know if I can write that poem
Or if indeed that poem can be written at all
So instead I am with you
Of you
And slowly together
we are writing our very own poem
Not on a page
Or in a lost notebook
But in the café
and in the street
At a table
In our bed
Every day we add another line
another image
another verse
and I know that with every word that we write
I want it to be the longest poem
That has ever been written.
poem by Andy Houlihan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This Is A Poem Written To Escape Doing Something Else
THIS IS A POEM WRITTEN TO ESCAPE DOING SOMETHING ELSE
This is a poem written to escape doing something else
Perhaps in a way all my poems have been written to escape doing something else
Some lifetime work I never wanted to do?
Some hard business task?
Some duty of life I felt myself not up to yet?
Some meeting some personal confrontation?
But this poem
A small poem indeed
Is written because I fear the longer work I have to do
Will not be alright-
But then don't I also fear this poem too and all the poems
Will not be alright?
All my life I have been escaping into poetry-
Why in my old age how in my old age
Should I
Change this now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!