Names
There's more meaning in names
Than sometimes we know it
My name in old Manx
Is Teige - a poet!
In the world day to day
My name shall Keig be
But for poems i think
I'll use Teige for me.
(the derivation of my surname is something i only discovered this morning!)
poem by David Keig
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Related quotes
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
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The Poet Writes Of Poems And Poets And Poetry
THE POET WRITES OF POEMS AND POETS AND POETRY
The poet writes of poems and poets and poetry,
And the world goes by
And nothing is done.
And the sky- the sky.
Is it still above?
And Love and Kindness
Are they still deep in us,
Words or not?
Without Poetry the world does not exist for the poet-
But for others,
Dreams have other names,
And Music plays on,
And singing and laughter
Go on as the Beauty of Light.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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To Be An Anthology Poet
To be an anthology poet whose work
Children hate to read in school
And re-discover in later life as meaningful and beautiful-
To be an anthology poet
And have generations know one’s poems
As part of the eternal canon-
To be an anthology poet
One of the few names
That has survived
When thousands of one’s contemporaries’ have not-
To be an anthology poet
To have written a few of the great and the memorable poems-
To be an anthology poet
To be what I am not
And most likely never will be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Poem Whose Meaning The Poet Does Not Know
A POEM WHOSE MEANING THE POET DOES NOT KNOW
A poem whose meaning the poet does not know
Is a question only its readers can answer.
But if in the silence of endless absence
There are no readers
A poem whose meaning the poet does not know
Becomes a poem which does not exist.
And a poem which does not exist
Is not the poem the poet dreamed
When he heard in the night or the early morning
That rush of music that sequence of sounds
Which seemed to say more than he would ever understand
As he wrote it down in haste
For fear it somehow would be lost.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Small Need...
Let me write some poems
Let me be a poet.
Give me a pen,
Give me a paper,
And give me a few thoughts.
Let the world know me a lot
Let me be a clot.
Give my poems a rhyme
Give them a rhythum too.
And give me a name.
Let my poems be recited by all
Let my lines be quoted by the world.
Give me your fingers
Give me your mind as well.
Let me too be a poet.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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The True Meaning of Poetry!
What is the true
meaning of poetry?
Is it rhyming
words together?
Is it about love?
Is it about
impressing?
No, unlike some,
I have discovered the,
true meaning of poetry!
Poetry is the feelings in your heart!
It's really just your heart on paper!
Poetry can be about anything really,
Anything at all! It can have a certain theme,
Like shoes, a talent, a fantasy, love,
World issues, personal issues, history,
Past events, important things!
Poems can mean nothing,
But they can also mean the
World to any one! You just
Never know! Poetry is a way
For people to express them-
Selves. Ex-addicts sometimes
Use poetry to help them when they
Are craving their old addictions.
Like I said, poetry can mean
Nothing to one person,
But mean the world to another!
poem by Rhiannon Parvin
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Morning Sunshine
This poet is so seductive
This poet is now strange to me
This poet is so bold
This little girl doesn't want to see
The little girl has known this poet
ever since
But the little girl is already
tired of this poet
She just wants to play.
Not any passing minute
She hasn't have
any word of
allegory
metonymy and
simile
Take me away from this poet yet
the little girl must empty first
the words of this poet
Before she is free to play
in the morning sunshine
and go away from this busy poet
Do you think I'm too young to see?
Do you agree?
This poet won't let me
play out in the middle of the rain
This poet won't let me
see the afternoon sway
This poet won't let me
see the morning gay
Let me see the Morning Sunshine
Let me see!
But this poet
Won't let me
I'll just watch t.v
and sing
her poetry
poem by Mary Jesusa Villegas
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Christina Sunrise
Christina means the follower of Christ,
I write poems admiring him and his life.
Now I believe we are all change agents,
I write poems that rant with tangents.
Born in the spring on April eighteenth,
I defend the underdog to the nine degree.
I even wrote a Peeve poem comparing
someone's actions to a dog's flea.
Being 4th generation Native American,
I dance to "Cherokee Nation Will Return" again and again.
Now I write poems to bring awareness and change,
to help people see another standpoint that's not the same.
The name Sunrise is Zaria in Slavic meaning Morning Star,
I write a poem to worship our Sun on Earth from a far.
I just used to live on the street named Sunrise,
middle name Christina names came together just fine.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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An Evening Poem
AN EVENING POEM
An evening poem
Waits for deeper darkness
A night poem knows blackness
As home.
A morning poem is light
An afternoon poem is thick with heat.
All times have a poem
And all seasons poems also
All lives are poems
And all stories also.
We all are and all know poems
Poems pervade us
And the universe.
It is night now
But when the morning comes
Its poem will overshadow now.
What a brave new world it is
With so many poems in it
And what a life-
With such deep sadness
Waiting forever to be unexpressed.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poems I Write Give Meaning To My Life
The poems I write give meaning to my life.
But what are they for others?
Are they Poetry or just the sentences I happen to think?
The Poems I write give meaning to my life
But only in the time I am writing them
What they are afterward
Does not truly depend on me?
Meaning it seems is momentary for me
And the higher meaning of what will endure
Is a question I by myself however I write
Cannot answer.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Are The Poems That Are Not The Real Poems
There are the poems that are not the real poems,
And the poems that are-
And the poems that are seem to come out of their own saying
With a rhythm and a meaning which makes a music so deep,
Even the most lonely soul feels them as a singing inside.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Poet's Soul
I read the poet's souls in the poems,
I read the poet's inner world.
Pulse beats louder, then duller,
And all my doubts are just hurled.
The sadness sometimes a kiss cover,
Then suddenly curled at my feet,
Giving the whole body a heat,
The warmth of a true lover.
Fever passes through nervous points,
Chill runs through the whole body,
I read the poet's souls in the poems,
And feel that the soul is haughty.
I delve into the words and their nature,
Understanding destroys the walls,
Now I would like to capture
The main idea and the poems calls.
I read and my joy is in full swing,
My own soul gets the wings,
I am ready to fly with the singer,
Like me the poet is a swinger.
I am with that one who dared
To plunge into the holy spring naked,
I am with that one who shared
An inspiration and was not faked.
I read the poet's souls in the poems.
But do I read the souls of reality or dream?
Let's deem that no one here and there lies,
And the law of poetry is always precise.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 4th of April,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Sonnet: the Master Poet
’Tis God who inspires in me fire!
He is the Master-Sculptor and Poet!
I play a melody with strings well-set;
God-kindled heart of mine becomes a lyre.
Every poet speaks to God in his mind,
In ways so strange that both can understand;
The Poet is a singer in his band;
To God’s tenets, his songs will always bind,
With time, he communicates very fast;
The Poet takes up every word of His;
And so the poems get very well cast;
As if God gave the poet’s mind- bliss.
To thee belongs my poems, O my Lord!
They are made great byThy divine accord.
3-3-2000
poem by John Celes
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Poet vs Poem
Does a poet makes poem
Or poem makes poet?
The eternal war goes on.
The big confusion who will solve it?
Poet fight with sword of pen.
Poem armoured with shield of senses.
Poet tries to rich sky high,
Poem pulls rope of meaning and tenses.
Does poet sketc the poem
Or poem drags him through the invigible gravity.
A piece of paper becomes battlefield.
The war of ink and vocabulary,
Creates a historic beauty.
Poet cages the poem in a book.
Where the world will look.
Praises all to poet 'oh how great'
But the poem is what counts after his death.
poem by Saurav Karki
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The Story Of The Poet
THE STORY OF THE POET
The story of the poet
Is told by his poems
A long long story
Of many small poems.
Can they be read?
Can they be known?
Can they be understood,
As the story they are?
The story of the poet
May forever be unknown-
And die with the poems
Never known.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Your name
Your name is
written in the stars
and your surname says
that you come from heaven,
but I know that you
bring meaning to my life.
I can hear your voice
in the evening wind
and you are still with me,
when I am alone
with my thoughts.
To me it’s destined
from the beginning,
that you are my biggest blessing.
When life throws us about
and shakes our world apart,
I can only keep learning
to appreciate you more.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Poet’s Prayer
Lord forgive me
That I have chosen to become a poet
Forgive me for what I write
The poems of my life
Grant me such devotion
To write the poems that I love
Grant me the love of poetry
That must not distract me
From tenderness
Make my desire last long
Make my disillusion short
Uproot from me these impure desires
From those poems that trouble me
Let not some images confuse me
Let not some metaphors numb me
Let not my dullness sadden me
Let your radiance descend upon
The modesty of my poems
As you once gave radiance
To the prophets who cannot speak
For themselves
Let me be a strong poet
Able to love and defend
the poems for the
women and children and land
Grant me the talent to make
The poems that they may still
Recite and remember
Even when I am gone
In my weakness as a poet
Make me strong
To scorn the poems that are not pure
To shy away from the fires
And flames that do not light
The lives of other men
And women too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Poem Of Shabbat Morning Is Gone
THE POEM OF SHABBAT MORNING IS GONE
The poem of Shabbat morning is gone-
Forgotten forever
As if it never was.
It came to me
And I could not write it down
And now it is gone.
The world is filled with poems which are lost
And never written down
Great works and great mysteries
Never to really be.
In all those billions of unrecorded lives
That went before us on this earth
There were many many poems lost.
I write this down now
as compensation-
How many poorer poems
have replaced
the true poems
that were once
and never are to be?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Poet Is A Poet/Wherever He Goes
A POET IS A POET/ WHEREVER HE GOES
A poet is a poet
Wherever he goes
He can stop and sit on a bench anywhere
And write a poem
The poems come from without often
But what is within is the poetry-
Like a dream like a fire like a small light
That never goes out
A poet sits anywhere and writes his dream-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Proclamation
How many poems
must one write to be a poet?
None. An entire lifetime...
may be but a prostrate patterned poem.
How many poems must be
written to realize a great poet?
Only one. A single great
poem proclaims great poet.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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