The Perfect Purpose Of Poetry

Within the human hearts that beat, God's rhythm sets the tone,
Such that each soul feels incomplete each time that it's alone...
Yet poetry has filled the need to cure that loneliness
And grant the ones who hear or read a share of happiness!

When thinking of the positives surrounding us each day,
It's poetry that often lifts with gifts that help portray...
A gentle verse or precious prose or something fanciful,
Can offer us some sweet repose that's like a miracle!

From sacred psalms that David wrote, to holy hymns in schools,
It's poetry that gets my vote, its passion never cools...
There's someone out there even now who's deep in thought again,
With furrowed lines upon his brow as lines flow from his pen...

He's not a shepherd or a king, he's just at home, sat down
And his brilliant brain seeks something to help to ease your frown...
Our words can change the world we see, turn hatred into love...
The perfect purpose of poetry? It's pleasing God above!

Within the human hearts that beat, God's rhythm sets the tone,
Such that each soul feels incomplete each time that it's alone...
Yet poetry has filled the need to cure that loneliness
And grant the ones who hear or read a share of happiness!


Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.

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Poetry...Poetry...

Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.

Poetry...Poetry...

Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.

Poetry...Poetry...

Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.

Poetry...Poetry...

Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.

Poetry...Poetry...

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An act of poetry

Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry

A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art

Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation

Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:

The pen be our salvation.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010


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Poetry Is All In One!

Passion for poetry is insatiable!
Poetry gives pleasure nothing can!
Poetry is many subjects under one roof!
Poetry never bores to write and read ever!
Poetry is a compression of many ideas in a nut shell!
Poetry displays power of pen to capture men ever!
Poetry captures as photo castles built in air!
Poetry is spontaneous over flow of ides!
Poetry flows free if extemporary!
Poetry is prolific words sure!
Poetry is a thing of joy!
Poetry is beauty!
Poetry is witty!
Poetry cheers!

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A Man Became Addicted To Poetry

A MAN BECAME ADDICTED TO POETRY

A man became addicted to poetry-
Wherever he went he read or wrote a few lines-
Poetry became much of what he did-
Poetry and poetry and poetry-
As if that alone could give meaning and pleasure to his life.

A man became addicted to poetry
And so lost at times
What true poetry is –

Now he writes without knowing
Whether he is truly writing
Or merely using the ‘idea and world of poetry’
For his own peace of mind.

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Poetry On The Chin

You gouged my mind's eye,
Tantalised all inner thought,
Shocked from unknown angles;
Sold me, told me cold,
Unfolded, moulded;
Shouldered any harbouring
Of empty morals.

You spun me round; undressed -
Pestered me with background riddle -
Piffle came to gleaning meaning.
And you stripped out prejudice - for none
Must exist in poetry,
Lest you close up an open mind
And f**k up as reader;
Lest your heart is not a bleeder -
It has to be - let it flush out
Upon your sleeve.

You lay apart my thinking brain
And let in the literary pickings of a
Great poetic phallus.
Yes, poetry can be callous.


Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2010


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When Poetry...

when poetry stings
there's someone who smiles
from the cadences of infused passion
to the rhythm of a gyrating emotion

when poetry rings
there's someone who sings
from the rhyme that often burst forth
to the brilliant lights that soulful thought

when poetry peals
there's someone who flutes
the words that hangs on a harp
there's someone playing the music
of the soul...

if poetry be your passion play on
please don't stop
if poetry be your fire
please burn on in desire
if poetry be your height
please rise on go on higher...

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On Poetry

1
poetry can be
like a sky filled with wrangling clouds
or as a sky without a wisp

2
in poetry there are no
clichés in thought and phrase;
and what is left there is
the resplendent and the living

3
poetry leaves one
rich inside
and ordinary outside

4
the fool defines poetry
and poetry defies all definitions

5
poetry entertains, inspires;
poetry tickles, distracts, and shapes and frees -
but its true intent, no one knows

6
many lines, and countless lines
many pages, and thick volumes
don’t make poetry

7
if one had no coins
one cannot buy bread;
but not all the world’s wealth
can bring you poetry

8
Oh no!
Not another love poem!
Oh no!
Not another poem about oneself!

9
rhyme, technique and meter
and tricks of prosody
don’t make poetry: passion does

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Read my poetry

Read my poetry
My poetry is enough
My poetry is independent
My poetry creates itself.

Read my poetry
My poetry is not mine
Everything belongs to my poetry
My poetry creats itself.

Read my poetry
My poetry is psyche and
Alchemy in me
My poetry is independent of me.

Read my poetry
It agony its ecstasy
Its inspiration
Everything belongs to
My predecessors-poet
Read my poetry
Read my poetry.

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All Poetry... All The Time

All Poetry … All The Time
I Love To Read In Rhythm & Rhyme
I Love To Write Of Wistful Wishes
And Lips Speak Of Love Like Bold Kisses

All Poetry … All The Time
Poetry, Is A Medication For My Mind
Poetry, Has A Power To Overthrow Pain
Poetry, Should Be Spoken, Again and Again

All Poetry … All The Time
I Am Really Thrilled To Find
More Poet Lovers, and Their Word Artistry
All The Time … All Poetry

All Poetry … All The Time
May Each Poetic Puff, Rise & Climb
Into The Clouds, Up To The Stars
(Or Maybe Just Linger, Where You Are) …

All Poetry … For All Of Time


Written & ©: 5/24/10

By: MoonBee

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Poetry Is Sexy

Poetry is sexy
Its lyrics aim to please

Poetry is sexy
Engaging in its tease

Poetry is sexy
It radiates with verb

Poetry is sexy
Every idyllic word

Poetry is sexy
Refined for purity

Poetry is sexy
Stripped of subtlety

Poetry is sexy
When read between the lines

Poetry is sexy
Laced with frilly rhymes

Poetry is sexy
Both singular and plural

Poetry is sexy
Every exclamatory swirl

Poetry is sexy
Grammatically raw

Poetry is sexy
Even typos and all

Poetry is sexy
Consummated publicly

Poetry is sexy
When performed properly

Poetry is sexy
Irrespective of its font

Poetry is sexy
Fashioned any way you want

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18 Definitions Of Poetry

1) Poetry is what is Beautiful in words –
2) Poetry is the deepest feeling words can tell
3) Poetry is the soul of each one of us
4) Poetry is the morning light after the longest night
5) Poetry is a dream of dreams in a world that needs dreams to be
beautiful
6) Poetry is the Search for God and the Love of God in all holy writing
7) Poetry is Reality itself when it is doing what it should
8) Poetry is you and me and all of us when we are kind to each other
9) Poetry is more than we can say or know- deeper than the deepest
silence and quieter also
10) Poetry is the place we go to in ourselves when we need to cry out loud
11) Poetry is Love words of love and the first spring of the young lovers first
song
12) Poetry is all we are when our minds are right and strong
13) Poetry is what saves us from all the other words
14) Poetry is what ceases to exist when Cruelty comes
15) Poetry is Love and Blessing and Kindness again
16) Poetry cuts through the icy sea within and sends chills down the spine
17) Poetry is what is recollected in tranquility but also tried and tossed in
tempest on the most difficult seas
18) Poetry is open to more than what it has been It is what others have not yet created and will so long as we are human and in search of the Sublime

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Poetry is immortal

Poetry is immortal
yet so is the oracle
but poetry is no prophecy
it is energy from an inner sanctuary
one filled with creativity and imagery
yes poetry is immortal
it dives through any portal
whether it be mind, heart or soul
it slides through like a pole
poetry is everything and nothing
it is brilliant and disgusting
but it is still poetry
a magic that is everlasting
one that is never passing
it is a miracle
poetry is immortal

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Poetry Has A Rhythm Of Its Own

POETRY HAS A RHYTHM OF ITS OWN

Poetry has a rhythm of its own
I have lost it
I have words
I have sentences
But I have no rhythm-

I have flat lines
One after the blank other
A mind without depth
A sense of lack
But no real way
Of making a music of poetry

All my efforts now
Are like these lines
Without resonance
Simple and single in meaning
Not what a poem at its best
Should be.

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Poetry Has Its Own Music

POETRY HAS ITS OWN MUSIC

Poetry has its own music-
A mind empty of it
Wonders where it is.

Poetry has a rhythm of its own
Without that rhythm
Dead words dead lines dead pages.

Seeking the rhythm the music of poetry
Flat lines come
And the poem is a parody
Of true poetry.

How many flat and false poems
Have I written
In order
To help me try
To come alive?

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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.

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What Does Poetry Mean To Me

What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from a poem
Good poetry is a rhapsody
That makes my spirit roam

What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from an ode
Good poetry is the world to me
It is the mother lode

What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from a verse
Good poetry makes my soul soar free
And lifts the darkest curse

What does poetry mean to me
A sorry sonofabitch
Good poetry grabs me by the balls
And makes my life seem rich

What does poetry mean to me
An ageing U3Aer
Good poetry takes me back to youth
To when I was a player

What does poetry mean to me
A frustrated would-be bard
Good poetry trips not off my pen
It’s far too blooming hard

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This Poetry

This poetry is not poetry

This poetry is not poetry as poetry goes

But is as silent as a man in a rollo neck jumper

Almost reading yesterdays news

This poetry is not poetry

As far as poetry goes

It is neither verse

Or poesy prose

This is a debunking of 'The poetry'

Everyone knows

And so they are not amused

This poetry is not poetry

So why poetry?

If not

Prose?

It is as idle as a man picking his nose

Pondering a wonderful muse

Yet some, are not amused

Infact if this poetry is Not poetry

What right have I to use, the word poetry?

It is a lovely panacea for expressing and de stressing

The individual's points of view

And yet if not poetry

Who says Not poetry

And who is qualified to choose?

Give me a pocket full of roses

Or a misty morning cloud

Are you amused?

clammy wynette aka Yvette m smith

march 09

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I Dont Write Poetry!

i dont write poetry...
i sweat poetry, i drink poetry,
i breathe poetry, i make love to poetry,
i fight poetry, i eat poetry,
i bleed poetry, i crap poetry...
too often i betray poetry,
sometimes i dropp poetry.
once i tripped over poetry,
got angry and kicked poetry.
i rocked poetry on a sleepless night,
i buried poetry on the hill...
i lived poetry, for i am poetry...

no, i dont write poetry,
but poetry writes me!

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Poetry Is

poetry is what the soul wants
poetry is infinite sound that taunts
poetry is strength of ones spirit
poetry is the powerful truth within it
poetry is love and hate
poetry is what makes you stop wait and appreciate
poetry is something you should die for
poetry is what makes you dropp to the floor
poetry is put up randomly
poetry is, well, simply poetry

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The People's Publisher

Over a million poems shared
By Forward Poetry!
The People's Publisher that cared
Has thus made history!
Just think of poets nationwide
Partaking in that feat,
Perhaps there's one who smiles with pride
Who lives within your street!

Perhaps that neighbour no-one knows
Is busy day-by-day!
Perhaps his prose just overflows
'Cos he's got lots to say!
Perhaps he emails now and then
To share his latest one,
Yet soon he's writing once again,
Till that new poem's done!

Perhaps ten thousand poets wrote
The poems now in books
And hoped they'd be an antidote
For every one who looks!
Well-wishers with their hearts of gold
With verses to express
The greatest stories to be told
God meant for happiness!

The People's Publisher agreed
And Editors took part,
So as a team, we all succeed
To triumph in our art...
It's poetry by the people
And for the people, too...
So please remember to keep all
Our poems penned for you!

Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.

Website: www-dot-forwardpoetry-dot-co-dot-uk

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