I Bid Farewell To Poetry
I bid farewell to poetry
I wrote a lot that helped me see
A little deeper in myself
I guess it helped my mental health
But now the time has come I think
To face real issues, not to sink
Into a tangled mass of rhyme
That deals with problems that are mine
So my time here is at a close
And maybe i shall turn to prose......
poem by David Keig
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Related quotes
Two schools of thought.
.
The lady chose to take offence
Although I said she wrote fine prose
She may not know the difference
between poetry and prose
She thought that she wrote poetry
But what she wrote was free form prose.
I offered no apology
It was not my fault that she chose.
Not to learn the basic rules
defining prose and poetry
Two very different writing schools
in which to show your artistry.
The so called experts can’t agree
and coined the term poetic prose.
Though writing cannot possible
be classed as poetry and prose.
If it’s not metered it is prose
no matter how poetical.
But you’re entitled to compose.
Fine prose and call it poetry.
Though I suggest respectfully
you should be proud of writing prose.
As some do most successfully.
But it was poetry I chose
Thursday,11 March 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I have a dream
I want to write real poetry
But I’m not sure how I should start
I need someone who can teach me
the basics of poetic art.
I do not know if it should rhyme
and meter is a mystery.
I have the will I have the time.
I somebody will please help me.
I have the urge I have to write
I really want to get it right
What makes it poetry or prose?
there is a difference I suppose.
I know there’s different schools of thought
an ongoing controversy.
I’m simply looking for support
to help me with my poetry.
I have the basic writing tools
a pad a pencil and P.C.
I need to learn the basic rules
which turn prose into poetry.
I am willing to study hard
and heed advice that’s offered me.
By any older wiser bard
who’s skilled at writing poetry.
26-Apr-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Prose-Poetry
Once prose and poetry existed side by side
Two styles of literature, each with its bound
Jealously guarded by the literati
Lest prose masquerades as poetry.
The First World War smashed all fetters,
Soldiers wrote heart-rending poetic letters
To sweethearts, friends, fathers and mothers.
Newspapers published their anguish and horrors
The literati classed them as prose
And turned up their nose
At such a new trend of mongrelised poetry;
But the public gave it name and identity
Prose-poetry began to gain respectability.
Prose-poetry is a contradiction in terms,
An oxymoron; a paradox of many forms.
When well written, words flow as though in rhyme
Thought and syntax together dance with rhythm.
Some pen few lines haphazardly,
String words together arbitrarily,
Flit between thoughts randomly,
Structure their poems casually.
They want us to see them as thinkers
In fact, they are just wearing blinkers.
If only they could see their folly
They’d stop abusing prose-poetry.
poem by Isam Hussain
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Every Time I See Your Face
Every time I see your face
It is beautiful as flowers in vase
ERvery time I see your face
It is smooth as silk and lace
I see sunrise in your eyes
I see where the eagles flies
I see the stars in your eyes
I see where the mountains rise
Every time I liss your lips
This heart of mine flips
Every time I kiss your lips
I feel the joy of passion drips
I see sunrise, , , , , , , , , , ,
Every time I hold you close
You become poetry and prose
Every time I hold you close
I feel the fragraance of Rose
I see synrise, , , , , , , , , , ,
Every time you cokme near
My heart dances and cheers
Every time you come near
I see the love crystal clear
poem by Ashram Ashram
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Self-motivation
Oh, tell me what to do;
I am in dire straits;
I trust no man on earth;
I don’t know what to do!
My problems are galore;
Time does not favor me;
I have to face what comes;
I am afraid, I’ll fail!
I can’t escape this time?
The odds are against me;
I’m strong but weak again;
Can I set things aright?
Yet, I’ve been quite lucky;
God helped me many times;
I’ve seen worse off problems;
I hope I’ll overcome.
So, let me try again;
I cannot lose my heart;
Courage is my answer;
I’ll face whatever comes.
Failure is part of life;
Success can’t always come;
Hopelessness shouldn’t fill mind;
I’ll pull my strings again!
Whatever comes, I’ll take;
I can’t brood, fume or fret;
Let things happen somehow;
Defeat shall not be mine!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-10-2009
poem by John Celes
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Lost poem
It was on this page, then gone
Like feathers blowing in the wind.
Where is the prose I wrote?
Not a letter is in sight.
I am looking with all my might.
Oh where is the prose I wrote?
Today I wrote a new poem,
Was it lost in cyberspace?
I hope not for I might not know it,
Even staring at me in the face.
Give me a break, my memories are at stake.
Oh where is the prose I wrote?
Totally Biased
I do not often write free form
to me it is not poetry.
Freely admit my prejudice
I think it’s just a passing phase
Although I can appreciate
poetic and well written prose
This does not make it poetry
When I consult my dictionary
it makes it very clear to me.
All writing must be one of those
It can’t be both at he same time.
Prose poetry cannot exist
an obvious oxymoron
Though modern writer still insist
that what they write is poetry
.It may be really beautiful
and well presented on the page
but definitely not poetry.
Why can they not be satisfied
with their well written thoughts in prose.
Why do they call it poetry
a dandelions not a rose.
Its meter defines poetry
it doesn’t even need to rhyme.
Even free verse had its rules
but writers seem to think today
There are no rules anything goes.
I nail my colours to the mast
Not afraid to let my bias show.
31-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Not a Poem Poem
A Not a Poem Poem
I will not write a poem
For I am not a poet
I cannot makes things rhyme
I’ve tried for quite some time
So will I write a poem?
NO!
I can’t write poetry
I’ve tried to all my life
Once, I tried to write a poem
About a husband and his wife
It sounded really silly
So I crumbled it up into a ball
That’s why I decided
That I couldn’t write poetry at all
Am I gonna write a poem?
NO!
Well, I’ll try to write a poem
But it will be really bad
It will be absolutely lousy
It will be completely horrible
It won’t be up to snuff
People will say, “Who wrote this stuff? ”
Will my poem be good?
NO!
Can I write a poem?
NO!
Will I write a poem?
NO!
Well, what do you know! ? !
I wrote a poem!
And it’s a pretty good poem, too!
I guess I can write poetry if I try
The next time I’m asked to write a poem,
Will I say no?
NO!
I always knew where I was going eventually, so it helped me to stay at home for three years. It helped me to develop my game. But it also helped me off the ice. Life here is way different, and I was able to get older.
quote by Saku Koivu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Caring daring writing makes more sense...
For some its simply stated
for some the truth is abated
by rhyme and the language of the rose
such people prefer prose
for those
who are different who appreciate the art of poetry
are the ones who understand this
if you are the latter make sure you dont miss
your chance reading one thing has changed me
my life given up willingly
and now what comes out
surely not the same boy hurt and the one who has begun to pout
simply from the pain
all of this in vain
nay i say i say that this is something this is the reason
to not take my cross and follow thats treason
i wont just sit here and wait
having faith and doing nothing thats something i hate
its time to save
and even if it is all for naught
maybe just being a little too brave
but i repeat all for naught.... what has become of my life my purpose am i caught
i honestly think that if nothing comes of this no one gets saved
then at least i helped someone in my life
touched a life
even one rife
with pain
maybe one like mine just on the edge about to wain
i know i've done something
to the two i've hopefully left my mark
I say its time to let shine
dont keep it to yourself and say its mine
lets go out into the world dont take my word for it
i Challenge my two friends Savannah and Dillan be truth seekers.....
Find it, whoever loses his life he shall find it
Does that mean i have to die?
actually yes i must die to my flesh
is that painful..... hardly i have a certain joy no one can take
if this has changed you or moved you dont tell me unless you must
for my sake
thank God if these are simply my words may you tell me and may i grieve.
poem by David Knox
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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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The Goal Of Poetry
it is simply to reach
out to people
with our verbal hands
these mental arms
and make them
look
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
d eeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeperdeeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
deeper
too, within
themselves
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Everyone who achieves success in a great venture, solved each problem as they came to it. They helped themselves. And they were helped through powers known and unknown to them at the time they set out on their voyage. They kept going regardless of the obstacles they met.
quote by Clement Stone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everyone who achieves success in a great venture, solves each problem as they came to it. They helped themselves. And they were helped through powers known and unknown to them at the time they set out on their voyage. They keep going regardless of the obstacles they met.
quote by W. Clement Stone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0004 The world has lost the ear for rhyme
The world has lost the ear for rhyme.
It still makes children squirm with pleasure;
and from some witty pens and minds, its fireworks fizz;
so, after all these centuries of rhyme
and all the games of meter, dancing words,
should we now mourn its passing?
Have we lost the music of another world?
Instead, the easy unpretentious discourse,
sober, light, familiar, honest -
the world of daily, homely, shared sharp life,
that's now preferred. Not prose;
much more than 'chopped-up prose' as those may say
who think that poetry should be more visibly hard-earned;
- as if a human life set down in honesty
were not a poem in itself, unwrit;
'prose with enhanced consciousness' it's often now defined;
and consciousness - now that's earned, if you like...
and simile, and imagery, and metaphor - all the repertoire
of glorious poetry - they're all still here
to work their magic; if more played down, now,
unostentatious as T-shirt and jeans;
unostentatious as the beating, bloody heart.
And yet, when years bring tears
and time brings death and dying,
it's time for rhyme, to heal the heart
and charm away the crying.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Thanks You
Thanks for always being there for me.
Thanks for that person you helped me to be
Thanks that you never let me be alone
Thanks that forever you promise to be my own
Thanks for black memories you helped me to remove
Thanks for loyalty that every day you prove
Thanks for the smile you put back on my face
Thanks that my loneliness has got no more space
Thanks for your patience that time I was so fool
Thanks you forget that whenever you get my call
If life has got some justice I'd thank you forever
It wouldn't be enough, , , , for the best person ever
poem by Mostafa Abdelrahman
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Who stands with me?
True poets write in meter.
Not because they think it’s neater
but because the flow is sweeter
When their words are read aloud
as they perform before the crowd.
Their poems pass the acid test.
Prose writers do not choose to rhyme.
They see it as a waste of time.
Although their word choice is sublime.
Without meter it is prose,
not poetry as they suppose.
Their definition I contest.
Poetic prose it’s plain to see.
Can not be classed as poetry.
I can accept you disagree.
I know I have a biased view
I think I am entitled to
Decide which one I like the best.
I choose meter every time
Preferably with lines that rhyme.
I find such poetry sublime.
Though I enjoy well written prose.
Each to his own I must suppose
So write the way that suits you best.
I am old fashioned I admit
and not one whit ashamed of it.
I do not find rules inhibit.
Free expression of my views
They merely mean I have to choose
the words that will express them best
Free form, free verse, poetic prose.
Are methods other writers chose
as being fit for their purpose.
To rebel against fixed form.
Which was regarded as the norm.
Just to be different from the rest.
But fashions change and now free form
Must be regarded as the norm.
I see no reason to conform.
I choose to write my poetry
In the old way that pleases me.
A lonely voice raised in protest.
The wheel of fate will slowly turn
Metered poetry will return
and well deserved plaudits earn.
I hope I live to see the day.
when classic poets can display.
That fixed forms can outshine the rest.
Monday,06 December 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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You are into a relationship
You are on a ship
In a traveling crowd
Alone
And you look at the sea
You have no direction
And seeing you lonely
The sea says
“come into me
my love for you is boundless
my resources for you are limitless”
and you look at yourself
on a ship
you have no choice
you have nothing to lose
you take nothing with you
and you jump
into a relationship
with the sea
the sea makes love to you
you feel nothing
you sink
you sink deeper & deeper
into a relationship
and you feel
you are all wrapped
all over with its waves
your arms bound
your hands can not move
you can not help yourself anymore
you sink
you sink deeper & deeper & deeper
you see everything about the sea
the sea loves you
with all its resources
with all its love
you feel nothing
you sink
you sink deeper
you feel nothing
you are dead
you were already dead
a long long time ago
when you were
on that ship
you did not make any scream against your own shadow
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Believing In Our Own Medical Cures
health problems shock issues can be intensely personal
we do not need to know the name of medical problems
to believe in our cures in new tomorrows in better days
to offer support comfort to share time with friends in need
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Time Of Poetry Has Come
THE TIME OF POETRY HAS COME
The time of Poetry has come
I feel it within myself
Somehow waiting to be said
Worlds are hidden
And feel ready to come into being-
The time of Poetry is here
And I am writing now easily
Yet somehow within the poetry
And beyond it
Is something that needs to be said
Which my poetry now cannot say-
The Poetry the real Poetry
May be within me
And yet beyond myself
So that what I am writing now
Is not it,
But only an excuse for mentioning that
It can never really be mine.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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