Not Perfect
Allow your fellow poets freedom
With grace, appreciate their words
Whatever they give it will become
A blessing, a touch, that poems accord.
Each one has limitations, but have a voice.
Listen, even to them that are new
Looking for the Good is always a choice
Do not restrict what does not agree with you.
Above all else, never have Conceit and think
You are above the rest and now excel
We are all learning and our efforts link
To Poetry, as we read - we learn well.
For life is a never- ending school
And those who succeed are those who are able
To look beyond the flaws and to use his tools
While all the while remaining very teachable!
'A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.'
Proverbs 25: 11
Cynthia BuhainBaello
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Related quotes
Poetry, That's What I Write
Parody of the classic song Money, That's What I Want
The best words on the page are here
Teaching you a hell of a lot more about life
Then just the birds and bees
Now you know words of magic
Words of wisdom
Given birth
Right here, right now
Oh, yes
Poetry, that's what I write
My wicked writing should give you such a thrill
So don't be shy
Go ahead and click on this link right here
My poetry won't pay your bills, no
But I can promise to give you some kinky thrills
Now you know
Poetry, that's what I write
Bright and beautiful
Perfect as can be
Poetry, that's what I write
Oh yeah baby
Poetry
Poetry, that's what I write
My poetry is the best
It's true
If you don't agree then I don't need you
You can kiss my sass
Now you know
Now you better read it
Oh yeah baby
Poetry, that's what I like
Poetry
Oh yes
Poetry, that's what I love
Poetry, that's what I write
Whoa
My poetry is the best
It's true
If you don't agree then I don't need you
You can kiss my sass
Now you know
Now you better read it
Oh yeah baby
Well, now read my poetry
Ooooh, oooh yeah my poetry
Read my
Love my
Poetry, oh yeah that's what I like
What I love
Oh yeah baby
Poetry, that's what I write
Yeah
2008 Ramona Thompson
poem by Ramona Thompson
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Ed's Choice
To Dear Poets
Some of your
Poems
Are my
Favourites
Not because
I always
Agree with you.
I also beg to
Disagree…
There is a
Difference
Of opinion.
Yet I honour
Your
Perspective
As there is
So much
To learn
From you.
I get inspired
By your
Well-expressed
Words and
Verses…
So for some
Good reading
And reflecting
I look up to you.
(Dedicated to all the Poems that've made it to Ed's Choice on Boloji)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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The literary life
We went to the house
of Afrikaans poetry together
on weekends and spent hours there
and listened to the master lecture
and met some poet friends
around a table
with a drink or two.
Sometimes the poetry was Afrikaans,
English, Dutch or even German
and we learnt form poets
around the globe.
We discussed what we had
just learned,
asked about his views
of certain things,
or what people in the group think,
discussed poetry, life,
sometimes even politics
and philosophy
as individuals of a group.
We read our poems,
listened to other poets,
reading their own,
analysed every word, every line
comprehending meaning, impact
and sharpened our art.
Your poetry was really great,
from when I read the very first line,
but mine had still to grow
from rhyme into free verse.
At times I hated comments
that forced me to move,
but realized that it was meant
with great goodwill
and even though I was in pain
I sharpened my verse
and free verse brought
a clearer ear, making it
much easier to write
great rhyme.
Now that I had to leave Pretoria,
weekends I really miss
that great writing school,
new poems from great poets,
learning something there,
experiencing poetry at its core,
lectures from that great master
and verses of his own,
but much more
your poems.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Deceased Poets Of Nature
Such beautiful poems to Nature they did write
The poetry we love for to read and recite
May they rest in peace now where-ever they lay
The deceased poets of Nature their poems live today
They glorified Nature and her praises they sung
And though they may be long dead their poems remain young
the poets of the land and the poets of the sea
In their beautiful poetry their greatness we do see
Their poems and their songs I loved as a boy
And their poems and their songs I will always enjoy
The beauty of Nature they did celebrate
And beauty in their words they loved to create.
Great insights of Nature from them we did gain
The beauty of their words with us does remain
We loved them for their poems in decades long gone
The deceased poets of Nature their poems living on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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0005 Totally Boring Poem
I’m totally bored by:
poems that sound like other poems
poems that try to sound unlike any other poems
poets who never take risks
poets who think that taking risks
makes them good poets
poems with 'meaning'
poems with no meaning
poets who slag off other poets
as if that achieves something
poets that tell you that rhyme
is not for an age but for all time
poets that tell you that rhyme is outmoded and boring
poets who think that the poetry of 'the past'
is greater than that of 'the present'
poets who think that the poetry of 'the present'
is greater than that of 'the past'
poems that tell you the poet's the first to discover sex
poets that tell you they’re the best sex you’ll ever have
although you’ll never meet them to find out
poets that tell you they’ve been dumped
poets who've never known love and being dumped
poets who are ambitious
poets who are unambitious
poets who tell you all about higher things
poets who reject higher things
poets who think life’s just a joke
poets who think life’s no joke
poets who sit on the fence
poets who have no sense of balance
poets who despise 'the middle ground'
poets who talk about technique
poets with no technique
poets who just throw down their thoughts
poets who 'work up' their poems to a self-satisfied polish
poets who list what they like (who cares?)
poets who list what don’t like (who cares?)
poets who write about extreme states
poets who think they’re immune to extreme states
poets who tell you why they’re bored
poets who have opinions
poets who seem to have no opinions at all
poets who have boring opinions to air - why choose poetry?
poets who comment on others' poems
as if it's the last word
poets who never bother to comment
on others' poems
poets who don't love poetry passionately
poets who tell you they 'love poetry passionately'
poets who – oh I’m too bored to go on reading this,
how about you?
I suppose you have boring opinions too?
another time perhaps
and oh yes I'm most of all bored by
those who waste their precious time on this earth
being bored
well I feel better for that.
how about you?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Dawn Of Reasoning Interconnected Mind
At the traditional age of consent,
I found a great undeniable love
for poetry as I strove to make sense
of this world with its nightmare,
of ignored unresolved problems.
I never had the chance to write,
most of my thoughts, down in
poetry. To reflect my reactions
to the events of my era. Life did
not allow time for contemplation.
It is my ardent hope that economic
circumstances or perhaps a more
focused determination; will allow
you to succeed in writing out more
poems of vital importance than I did.
I wrote when time allowed maybe
one in ten of my poems and often
the easiest. While years passed by
sometimes with nothing but work.
The gap in thought record haunts.
Ignore constant discouraging critic.
Your success now is mine your failure
mine. Therefore keep focused and let
at least some of your poetry, address
real issues. And write write write now!
You are in a time and place that requires
strong young poets from within. Past great
American poets would be devastating with
words writ in this era. I am not American,
you must be our voice from within, voice
proclaim and publish your insight! Pray or
meditate as you will and write that which
I lacking your knowledge cannot. The words
will come because the age topics demands it.
We are united in poetry and desire to express
difficult thoughts and concepts, hopefully to
be a voice of positive change! Tools are at
your finger tips, I never had contact with other
poets, in an electronic interconnected web of
minds, at the dawn of righteous determination.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Poem about Poetry - Good that Poetry never really sells
good that poets never really
make money from their craft
it's a blessing in disguise
as poetry is a sacred art
money demeans it, making it
cheap rather than dear
poetry seeks men to partake
in a private journey with god
to mark his grace and terrains
and - never readers - who have
to find their own way there - to the poets
to part take in the adventures
optional though they are for poetry
meant more for evolution of souls
they can be kept in drawers
and still have their functions fulfilled
the poets who day by day,
poem by poem see themselves
coming nearer to understanding
the scheme of things of the Divine One
petal by petal their mind too
has opened and emits soft fragrance
to enlighten all who care to be around
gold and silver
- the Forbidden Apple in Paradise -
if allowed would cause many to go astray
out of their temple they would look
for gold rather than in for their god
when that happens, a million readers
will not salvage the real value of poetry
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Choices
Leaders are guilty of nothing
They're perfectly insane
But if they'd point the finger at themselves
Who would be left to blame
Lead into grace
Lead to corruption
Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo
A truth or lie has to be spoken
Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo
King or con has to be chosen
Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo
Way of life complete or broken...broken
Choices
No more...choices
No more...choices
No more...choices
Leaders are guilty of nothing
They're perfectly insane
But if they'd point the finger at themselves
Who would be left to blame
Follow truth or stutter through a lie
Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo
Will to push or give up and fall behind
Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo
Live with peace or nurture your tragic life
Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo
Bite the bullet or swallow it whole
Leaders are guilty of nothing
They're perfectly insane
But if they'd point the finger at themselves
Who would be left to blame
Point the finger at yourself
There's no choice
Anymore anyway...
We don't have a choice
Anymore anyway
We don't have a voice
Anymore Anyway
There's no choice in freedom
There's no voice in freedom
We don't have a choice
Anymore anyway
We don't have a voice
Anymore anyway
There's no choice in freedom
There's no voice in freedom
Leaders are guilty of nothing
They're perfectly insane
But if they'd point the finger at themselves
Who would be left to blame
They're lost system of destruction
Flush all hope down the drain
But if they'd point the finger at themselves
Who is left to blame
Who is left to blame
We don't have a choice
Anymore anyway
We don't have a voice
Anymore anyway
There's no choice in freedom
There's no voice in freedom
We don't have a choice
Anymore anyway
We don't have a voice
Anymore anyway
There's no choice in freedom
There's no voice in freedom
We don't have a choice
Anymore anyway
We don't have a voice
Anymore anyway
We don't have a reason
Anymore anyway
We don't have control
Anymore anyway
We don't have opinions
Anymore anyway
There's no choice in freedom
There's no voice in freedom
Freedom, buy in
Freedom, sell out
Freedom, betray
Freedom, lay down
Freedom, corrupt
Freedom, opinion
Freedom, give up
Freedom, give in
song performed by by Mudvayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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The Professional Poet
and of course it was wrong
to label him as that – in just that tone of voice;
a touch of envy there, no doubt
implying a comfortable life,
a smart careerist, older poets youthfully
cultivated, poems in the right magazines,
editors gently kept in touch with;
keeping on the right side of his peers,
'interesting' reviews of their poetry skilfully woven,
professional favours quietly exchanged;
academic posts gracefully filled, and
moved on from; leaving grateful ex-students
recommended for the vacancy;
and an acquired ability
to write just enough, but not less;
so it should be rather, a lifelong devotee of poetry,
and when he started to read to us I felt mean
for assuming him to be some artificial thing
a professional poet;
I wanted to inhabit his poetry, the
house of his poetry; but some doors
to rooms were open, some were shut;
would I give the time to find and love the key?
He read his own poems
as if they were step-children –
proud to show them off, and yet, not really his;
the audience, taken aback by this,
hesitated to applaud.
But when he read the poems of others,
he read them as though they were miracles
to stun and to admire, yet he was, we were, barely worthy of;
dropping as fine mercy, as the gentle dew of heaven; he read like
an amateur would read the great, in awe; as -
a lifelong devotee of poetry. He shone.
In each of us, a poet was born and lived.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Fate of Top Poems!
Past poets were remarkable by their poems only;
But present poets are made remarkable by others!
Poetry of the past are no doubt top poems ever;
But poetry of the top are not listed in top poems!
Becoming top poets how can theirs have no place
Among the top poems of the poetry list? I wonder!
Touch stone of the top poems depends on merit
But not by the supports of friends for fun ever!
Poems of lasting value only can become classic;
But poems of no merit also have become classic!
Poetry of the past are romantic and also classic
But poetry of the present are neither but modern!
What is the yardstick to select poems as top ones -
Just support of some but not merit and meaning?
poem by Ramesh T A
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Isolation Rocks
to read poets
their poems
is time choice
actually poet
would write
more superior
poems
if educated read
other poets?
interacted more
nothing happens
in still isolation?
isolation rocks
soul voice would
become more
mainstream
golden voice
is orchestra
soloist singers
must solo sing
orchestra backed?
therefore
give me
the crags
rivers
waterfalls
wilderness
as I sing
their alone
only echoes
are
distant
heard
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Living or the Dead
Living poets with wasted words
Succumb to a famined rhyme-
For lack of better choice accord
Poetry so laced with grime.
Dead poets wrote with mastery
And excellently lines conveyed
Thoughts abundantly in beauty
Wisdom dressed in lines arrayed.
What then do we now impart?
Our pen in utter destitution?
Better from this life depart
If one writes in vile corruption.
.............. ................................................. .........................
'Every job is a self-portrait of the person who does it.'
(anonymous)
......................... ................................................. .........
April 14,2008
Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Dead Poets Live
Dead poets live
With words left behind
To linger in life's pages
Read again by others
Who travel
That long road
Of Poetry.
Dead poets live
In verses left behind
To play like old songs,
Sang again, touching those
Who dare to sing
Harmony
In poems.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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I Write Poems For Poets
I WRITE POEMS FOR POETS
I write poems for poets
Our situation as poets-
The longings the feelings
We so need to express-
The love of language-
The hunger for recognition-
The frequent rejection-
The kind word of a reader that moves-
Poems for poets
We as we each are
All so different-
And we as we share
Words and worlds
We hope to have read.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Where is He - Is He Dead?
Where is he -
Is he dead?
Where is the poet
Whose poems I just read?
I hope he still writes
It's a pity if he's gone
He may have lost the fight
But his poems will live on.
We are like miners of gold
These poems are the treasure
Though all poets will grow old
We had the best of pleasure!
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Absolute Necessity
Absolute necessity
Is poetry a luxury or one of life’s necessities?
I have to read, I have to write poetry a pure delight.
Other poets inspire me.Exploring the variety
of forms and styles that I can find, serves to stimulate my mind.
I do not claim to be the best I am just one amongst the rest
of poets posting on the net. Who you remember or forget.
Is poetry a luxury the answer must be NO from me.
To some it seems a waste of time to other folks it is sublime.
You are quite free to make your choice. But I will always raise my voice.
Applauding poets who can write fine poetry that brings delight,
Uplift the hearts of other men, more power to the poet’s pen.
27/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com.poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Dark Poems
Dark poems are everywhere,
floating in the midnight air.
Listen, listen, you have no choice,
the evil words, the devils voice.
Where the world falls apart,
there lies a dark poem of the heart.
Dark poems tell the devils lies,
they make you hear the evil cries.
Hold onto your ravaged soul,
don’t let life take its toll.
Dark poems are everywhere,
read them, read them, if you dare.
REB
poem by Rik Bertrand
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Poetry Dream.
I drift Yeah ~ ~ ~ ~ drift,
Network at home and abroad to find changed,
Finally came to this piece of land,
This is the poetry of the static earth?
Hoped to write a good poem,
To allow them across the oceans.
They become afraid of heavy stones,
Not sensual in the sink into the sea!
How many years after writing poetry?
This life caught in the areas of poetry,
Poets seem to lose direction.
Not to warble his life sentence,
Poetry is difficult as the expense of my new hand,
He voted Shigao nowhere Monet,
Sometimes, as the water is no longer up,
Poet dead bodies over the sea.
Poems written to a basis
Vernacular into a good poem, rare words,
But thousands of miles seeking Hello,
Poetry does not seek out the words parallelism.
Present the most chaotic poetry,
Have you written in classical Chinese poetry Link old-fashioned,
Vernacular writing to another, then no taste,
But to one day rushed into cloud,
To break the shackles of poetry,
Create a new charm,
Freedom to write my hope,
Unrestricted write a new realm.
poem by Albert Wong
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Cranky
Maybe it is the weather
That makes you grow crankier
Or better yet the hormone
That lets you give an acidic tone.
I do not care if you review,
Please be kind in all you do.
Today maybe your very last,
For life is over, oh so fast.
We all have joy to try and write,
And all you here we do invite.
No one's perfect so be true -
If you're not happy, say 'Adieu! '
Kindness is the best to give
Adds sunshine to this life we live.
We may not have a lot of money,
That's better than to be so cranky.
You'll end up with a lot of lines,
And with your words, please be refined.
For it reflects the heart inside,
Those sour grapes are hard to hide.
'The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in him...'
MATTHEW 12: 35a
July 10,2008
Cynthia BuhainBaello
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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