The Purpose Of Poetry
When first Man strove his thoughts to form,
New words became his goal,
Expressing hot and cold and warm
And spirit, body, soul
And heart and mind and conscience, too,
His dreams and his extremes
And ever-changing points of view
Turned into reams and reams...
From papyrus to paper size,
From words etched into stone,
Are truths writ there before our eyes
And laws that must be known...
As writers scratched their inky quills,
Inventors thought ahead
And simply by their thinking skills
Came fountain pens instead...
Computers came, both good and bad,
At our own risk, take care...
Keep saving all those rhymes we had,
Or they're lost in thin air...
But when they're saved and shared abroad,
Just think what's been acquired...
By some new special train of thought
The world could be inspired...
Thus poetry is in our hands,
Our heartfelt legacy,
Through which the whole world understands
Each psalm God caused to be...
Each birthday card that wishes well
With rhymes of fondest love,
Beguiles us with its magic spell,
As if from God above...
From hymns to pop songs day-by-day,
The world is made aware
That poetry is here to stay
With wondrous words to share...
Be thankful, then, for precious prose,
For favourites old and new,
With hidden secrets that God knows
And prophecies for you...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
My Thoughts
Thought in the eyes,
The ears.
Thought in mind,
The brain,
Thought in heart,
The soul.
Great thought is great
when it becomes great deeds.
With my thoughts within
Building my world within
Learning with thought;
Is great learning wisdom.
Learning without thought,
Is opportunity lost.
Thought for others
Thought for God
Thought for good
Thought for God’s blessing
Thoughts teach me,
Thoughts educate me,
Thoughts clarify me,
Thoughts enlighten me.
Thoughts make me wise
Thoughts make me patience
Thoughts make me trust others
Thoughts make me clam.
Thoughts before act
Is smart and wise
Act before thoughts
Is stupid and foolish
That’s my thoughts
They make thinking clear
They make belief deepen
They make confidence high.
In thoughts, my world
In my world, make my thoughts.
In thoughts, my words
In my words, make my speech
It’s my thoughts count
Counting my thoughts
To endless counting thoughts
Thinking the thoughts endlessly
My thoughts and thoughts again.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Preference
Modern proponents of free form.
Do not accept that poetry
has certain rules and must conform.
Or it becomes mere anarchy.
Anything goes just will not do.
It’s either poetry or prose.
One must give credit where it’s due
They both have merit I suppose.
Prose poetry cannot exist.
An oxymoron obviously
but modern writers will insist
that what they write is poetry.
They aren’t content to call it prose
well written and quite beautiful.
Care taken with the words they chose
describing something wonderful.
Although so many writers try.
There’s very few achieve their aim.
They do not stop to wonder why
But simply write more of the same.
Make no attempt to learn the rules
Meter and rhyme a mystery
they lack the simple basic tools
You need for writing poetry.
A poem is a message to
transmit your ideas and your thoughts.
So other folks can share them too.
If you can write them as you ought.
Simplicity and clarity
are prerequisites for our art.
The finest kinds of poetry
are written from the poets heart.
Mere strings of words in random lines
are neither prose nor poetry.
Each of us knows what he defines
as being his idea of poesy.
I rest my case I make no plea
I merely state my preference.
Applicable only to me
I do not wish to cause offence.
6-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetry and Poet
Poetry is poet's inner world,
Churnings of Self in distinct words;
Poetry is not black and white,
Grey, nuances of diverse hues
In kaleidoscopic word-networks
That capture all formless clouds
In the deep sky of the poet's world.
Poetry is poet's outer world,
His expressions in proper norms;
Bare thoughts, his rogue fights within
Dressed well for the popular nod;
Poet's world, a messy snake-pit,
A burrow of rats, snakes, insects,
Fighting to spring in riotous words,
Filter'd for world in elegant words.
Poetry is never a judgement,
Sheer whispers from heart to heart
Beyond what words do transport;
Words in lilt and dance, poetry,
Links they bond, cadence they ring,
Makes a poetry, a true poetry,
A mirror of poet's inner turmoils,
His hopes and strengths in right words,
Indecisions he suffer, his deeper Self.
Poetry is release from inner cauldron,
Steams from within in guise of words,
Quiet flames of the inner hearth
That flared for long finding a vent;
Poetry, a relief, a joy of sharing,
Sharing the Self with the world outside,
Back to the source from where all came;
Poet is the priest, poetry, his hymns,
Offered to the world for peace and grace.
Poetry sprouts from the morass of soul
And grows out of poet like pipal tree
And outstays him;
Fleeting is poet, but not his poems,
Poetry is the poet universalised;
It sucks his thoughts, sucks his force,
Spreads outwards to enrich the world
And leaves the poet richer and strong
Like fire and good deeds always are,
How much you share, so richer you are.
poem by Praveen Kumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God's Power To Your Pens!
God's power to your pens,
If you write for your friends,
Bestowing wisdom, humour, joy or love!
For as each poem blends,
The rhythm never ends,
For poetry's preserved by God above...
Within each poet's heart,
Is stored a noble art,
A precious gift God sent to bless Mankind!
At every poem's start,
An angel plays his part,
Encouraging all rhymes to be refined!
Please don't turn him away!
Instead bid him to stay!
He ministers to all who seek the Lord!
In silence, let him pray!
He serves God every day!
And if he could, he would share his reward!
Use clarity of thought
And choose words that you ought!
Express yourselves in rhythm, reason, rhyme!
What miracles are wrought
When genius is caught!
That's when a poem proves to be sublime!
Wondrous words excite us!
Dancing round inside us!
Esteem them all, as servants they have worth!
You that would delight us,
Harken, then, as writers!
Be open to God's friendship here on Earth!
Transcending what's the norm,
Wise words, like bees, must swarm,
Let poems play the heartstrings with finesse!
Like lightning, dreams must form!
Dig deep! Release the storm!
God's power to your pens, my friends! God bless!
Denis Martindale, August 2012.
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital 581
as well as the WATCH NOW link on
the revelationtv-dot-com website...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Caveat
Son, sort of caution, I say
No foul languages in poetry
Good poetry doesn’t need any
In prose, all you need is to facilitate words in good array
And in poetry, consider the rhymes, imagery and emotions all together
That would redefine a poem from a slander
Did you ever wonder?
Hear ye, not in ode, oh dear…
For muses and nymphs,
Citadels and pillars confer.
Thoughts ably recurring,
While the golden ink devours in symbolisms
it conceals our breath in an undated paper.
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shakespeare's Peerless Legacy
It's Shakespeare's peerless legacy
That stands the test of time,
With tales of awesome majesty,
Triumphant and sublime,
With heroes and with heroines
And villains by the score,
Such that the magic soon begins
With poetry galore...
So many words that shaped his plays,
So grandiose in style,
With twists and turns as each relays
Each character's profile,
With swordplay, too, and deadly dreams
And schemes both fair and fowl,
Behold how callous evil streams
Beneath each darkened cowl...
To think, he sat and wrote and wrote
On parchments old and new,
Expressing lots and plots to gloat
The evil that men do,
Or tragic tales, sweethearts alive
With love that cannot die,
Or heroes hurt, will they survive
Or will they make us cry?
Behold the peerless legacy
Of sonnets, plays and prose,
With such a place in history
His legend overflows,
Such that the world owes much to him,
The globe knows this full well,
For he had talents to the brim
With wondrous tales to tell...
Reflect upon this, poets now,
No matter, young or old,
To strive for glory here, somehow,
Takes more than skills or gold,
Regardless of your rhymes and such,
Your themes and dreams to catch,
Will you ever really do as much,
His legacy to match?
Fear not, each has a place on Earth,
A destiny to bear,
Such that the Lord knows each has worth,
If fellowshipped in prayer...
Adopted children of the Lord,
I challenge you this day...
Write rhymes Lord Jesus can reward,
Before you pass away...
---
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Verses Wrought
I do not know just how or when, God will send something to my pen,
From something that's on my heart, a thought God desires to impart,
Throughout my day, just as I go, thoughts from above seem to flow,
While I begin with simply a thought, by The Spirit verses are wrought.
It is The Lord God, Who blesses me, with these verses, that you see,
As these words that I pass along; the credit for all, does truly belong,
To The Lord God, Who reigns above, inspiring the verses, I speak of,
These very words, which I pen, that God has me share with other men.
God pens verses from my prose, through ways only The Spirit knows,
This when God's Spirit is inclined, to guide these thoughts in my mind,
In ways which only The Spirit can, as my Lord fills just an ordinary pen,
God blessing me, with His choice, to use my pen, instead of my voice.
Blessings, I hope to pass your way, with verses, on what I have to say,
As The Lord moves upon my heart, regarding thoughts I wish to impart,
From my thoughts God takes words, and He compiles them into verse,
Through ways that only God can do, so that I may share them with you.
Sharing with many through my life, the Truth and Grace of Jesus Christ,
Sharing Truths, you may have heard, that you find in God's Holy Word,
And Grace, which God bestows on us, when we follow The Lord Jesus,
All this as my Savior blesses me, while He guides me home to Eternity.
Poetry is the Divine Part of Man
Poetry haters love to make fun of the touchy-feely stuff
as though that defined who or what poetry is.
Poetry is the last time the sun gets reflected
in somebody's eyes, when they're saying goodbye-
maybe for forever.
And it's that first dropp of rain, touches the new brides veil,
blesses her; as she's lifting it off her face
for the first time, after being kissed in the marriage ceremony.
And poetry might be that bubble,
over the sink.. keeps floating away, fully intact;
even though all the laws of physics and gravity may be saying
it ought not be able to go on existing;
And poetry in motion
is a baby, trying to walk and falling down
again and again;
refusing to give up, surrender
less painful though that might be.
And poetry could even be your hand over my mouth,
because you know that I can never really say
what I am trying so hard to say;
as there's another form of secret communication
connects soul directly to soul,
without confusing or complicated words.
And that is some of the invisible poetry,
lives in the eyes, the hands; the heart of the mind;
and all the hidden, inner recesses of a human being; and even though
something may be a form of poetry for one; it may not be for another.
Finally, if you balled up the emotions together, and then just threw them up
into the open air, not knowing where they might come down, or even if;
this too, could be one of the purest forms of poetry.
My words could go on flowing forever, like a stream, and that could be poetry;
or they might stop without warning and
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poem about Poetry - Poetry Farm
Poetry,
the fruits of my mind
which i pluck and
place on paper
to refresh your mind and soul
they ripen in the mind
and become nagging thoughts
that push at me each day
to get them off the mental farm
onto the multifarious world where
they could travel
and befriend intelligences
from all all over and if fortunate
germinate in other mental farms
to come out with hybrids
that could enrich this world
with more lively words, rhymes
and cheerful people.......
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Journey Of A Poet
A journey begins with
A thought in our mind
Words are chosen and formed.
Lines of poem
Well Written with meanings
With words of emotions and expressions
A poet starts with
An inspiration of mind,
An aspiration in soul mind
With reflection
On our life experience
We start to
Compose some
Wonderful poetry
Expressing our innermost thoughts
With deep contemplation
To put them in poetry words
A journey begins when
A poet takes his imagination
To a place where
No one ever dream or imagine before.
A poet's journey ends by
Writing another lovely poem
And deep reflection
A poet remains
As a poet
When he or she
Continue to
Write and Share
lovely poems with the world.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Big Or Brief Poetry......!
Big or brief, what is poetry?
Poetry is......
Creating beauty out of blemish,
Making order out of disorder,
Producing meaning out of musical words,
Creating Universal truth out of trivialities,
Arranging points out of less known facts!
Is poetry just making rhythm and rhyme
Without meaning, life, force and taste,
Without free flowing musical words,
Without words of music, beauty, fun?
Poetry is free flowing river of words
With full of images, lively and lovely,
Transporting from this world to that world
Forgetting himself and readers here!
Just end rhyme is not enough to make it so;
Internal rhymes make music in rhythm
Making all enjoy music, meaning and ideas!
Poetry is the medium to say complex things
Not possible to say in other forms of language,
Saying unknown things using known things;
It is sound, substance, message and meaning!
And many more matters to many men in the world!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Written Word Rules!
At the idea of poetry, some people seem to scoff,
As they consider it is an art form only for toffs.
They may think that the concept of poetry is boring,
And that it will leave them fast asleep and snoring.
There are all types of poems: modern and classical.
There’s something for everyone: it’s not boring at all.
The lyrics of songs are poems as such;
They often rhyme together very much.
People like to sing along with their favourite songs,
So why does the concept of poetry feel so wrong?
I’ve only started writing poetry in the last few weeks,
And, I have to admit that I thought it was just for geeks.
But, now I can see, that whoever you are,
Everyone has the potential to go really far.
I have to admit, I much prefer
The written, to the spoken word.
At night, I lay awake tossing and turning in bed,
With random thoughts running through my head.
By my pillow, I keep a pen and note pad,
To jot down any thoughts, which I’ve had.
At the top of the page, my thoughts I jot,
And I always plan out a really rough plot.
I like to include words which have a nice ring.
Words, like these, into my poetry, I like to bring.
I continually go through the alphabet time after time,
Searching for useful words which, pretty much, rhyme.
In simple terms, my ideas, I always like to express;
Complicated and fancy words, my mind doesn’t posses.
I’m sat here, writing this poem, on a speeding train,
As thought after thought, floods into my brain.
I’m writing notes on a mini pocket timetable,
In any tiny blank space which is available.
In my handbag, I’ve got no pad, but I’ve got a pen;
My scribbled notes, I just hope I can comprehend.
I really must start carrying a notepad everywhere;
To forget all these thoughts I’ve had, I couldn’t bear.
When I’m thinking of ideas, I just can’t relax;
My mind seems to buzz to the absolute max.
I’m not far now from my final destination,
And the train is due to pull into the station.
On this subject, there’s not much more to be said,
So, I’m now putting this poem well and truly to bed.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Create A Better World!
A little kindness now and then,
An act of charity
And later give as good again,
For God alone to see
A pleasant word some heart to bless,
A poem or a song,
A tender thought meant to express
That we on Earth belong
A birthday card, a Christmas card,
Some greetings to relay
To someone held in high regard
Upon some special day
A 'Get well soon! ' can mean so much
Because somebody cares
And simply wants to stay in touch
To say, 'God hears our prayers! '
It's not that hard to prove your love,
Or kindle it once more,
Not just for simply buying stuff,
As if it were a chore
Consideration, that's the key,
Of that, there's not much doubt
Let's change the world through poetry
And spread the word about!
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If you dare
Although I’m fond of poetry.I find
the modern free form style lacks appeal for me.
I prefer disciplined formality
because I think it clarifies my mind
I chose my words, so my thoughts are well defined.
I cannot claim impartiality
nor dare I quote any authority.
All poetry I think should be designed
to serve some purpose which is clear to see.
Some train of thought the poet wishes to share.
Something he has seen in reality
or high flown fantasy beyond compare.
This is the art of writing poetry
To prove that you can do it, you must dare.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Mind Always Turning
My mind is like a jet,
ideas I have, hidden away,
not thought of yet.
My mind keeps going, going, fast as a train,
only at rest stops, do I wait
my thoughts, are simple and plain,
of poetry, do I love
sitting down at my desk,
floating along, like a dove
to survive, and to live,
the words shall flow
and to the world, I will give
Poetic Embracement
Poetry - the mother of all emotion
Some call it mere ‘words in motion’
When I write, I love thee- Oh Poetry!
Thy branches deeper than the banyan tree
That’s why you are stronger than prose
Oh! Poetry! !
And as a poet I have all the freedom
And all the world’s verses in my kingdom
I can be fair or may be a little foul
I can see through the night like an owl
You can make night as day, your way
Oh! Poetry! Have your sway…
You have words stringed like beads
And a finger that pointedly needs
An applaud, a bow, a salutation
Sometimes a silent infatuation
You are the need of a man-to be free
That’s why you are –Poetry! !
If some one loves Thee, is it also me?
That sounds selfish but true you see!
For when I embraced you, Oh! Poetry -
An ‘embracement’ was ‘love’ I thought
But ‘embarrassment’ was what I got!
For she admired me, just for Thee! !
Oh! Poetry! !
So Wright is not wrong to send hugs to me
Or Petal isn’t having a fling with the sepals like me
A Rose no longer pokes on a prose so long
For today, just for you - ‘Poetry’ is on a song..
Let me be chainless today, let me be free
You are, what You are! My Poetry! !
poem by Jyo Jottypoet Love
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!