Elan Vital
‘Elan vital' of lyrical acutance
Is carved open from veiled mausoleums
Shrouded embodiments of perpetual beauty
Like a dagger etching ink out of an uncut sapphire
To script life from the milieu of wood pulp
To exonerate pearls of poetry
From the oyster of a poet's heart
As the enchanting nib entwines
Tapestries of romance and epic saga
To metamorphose banality to a rainbow of chimera
To engrave the revelations of the third eye
In the timelessness of impression
In the perpetuity of scripted words
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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A Poet's Quest
Hiding beneath an indomitable fortress, the human skull
Seeds of thought hibernate
For destiny's fingers to select the chosen ones
For a metamorphosis, to sprout and leaven stems
Bearing on their herculean shoulders
The quintessence of raw beauty, the meat of creative genius
To dawn blades of lyrical acutance
To engender sheaths of shrouded mystery
Transforming the endeavor of the obsessive psyche
To the pinnacle of lyrics's transcendence
Outshining springs and fountains of ideality
Surpassing the humility and mortality of perfection
To the disconformities of metaphoric psychosis
To draw divine blood from bounties of creation
To sculpt destinies mastering the tide and ebb of the percussion nib
To exonerate life from wood pulp, to galvanize spirits from scripts
For the embodiment of beauty's psychedelic inimitability
poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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Intentions~
Chimera knows about the dark side of the moon
Chimera knows many incantations
Chimera knows evil like the back of her hand
Chimera knows sadistic and savagery raise her
Chimera knows toxic pleases her
Chimera knows destruction is her favorite compulsion
Chimera knows that all the good desserts she prepares
Are best served up cold
Chimera's cheesecake is KILLER
Yes, Chimera knows
poem by Theodora Onken
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Potential Poetry!
Love has no fear whatsoever in the world;
Poet does all by his love of all matters here;
Poetry is inspiring words of poet for all!
What's not possible by poetry is nothing!
Impossible is expressed in possible words
Making unknown known by poetry only!
Forms and style are poets own creations;
Poetry is ever new in expression of ideas
Inspiring all to be enthusiastic, enlightened!
Love of Nature, life, beauty and love poetry
Explores always deep to express truth new!
Poets are gods of Earth to men to new realm!
Poetry briefly converges all in a nutshell
As powerful as atomic energy in control!
poem by Ramesh T A
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What a Blessing!
what a blessing
if i could describe
the world's beauty
in such enchanting ways
as the flowers - orchids,
crocuses, roses, lotus and lilies
each species etching their ways into our heart
with their own special alphabets -
a curve there, a streak here,
spots there and commas,
full stops, question marks, and dashes
in all colours and fragrant powders
curling here and there
to form a perfect lustrious story
of wondrous romance and well wishes
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Elan Vital
élan vital
I want to go where the land
Is boundless, where the wheat
corn and flower cane grow,
where the soft white downy
of cotton amplifies in big
fields, and bed my body and
soul on the waves of cotton
balls, And in natural surrender
my élan vital to feel the
virginal of cosmos descending
for once in age..
copyrightelenatoledo
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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The Poetry Of Confession
THE POETRY OF CONFESSION
The poetry of confession -
The poetry of self- indulgence-
The poetry of the ‘wretch con-centered all in self’-
The poetry of moods and feelings-
Of all ideas only as they relate to the poet himself-
The poetry of desperation-
The poetry of need-
The poetry of urgency -
And serving the poet first-
Not enough of the world
Not enough of others- of other perspectives
Not formal and disciplined enough-
The poetry which is not crafted and polished
The poetry in which the need of the poet
Is more central than the quality of the poetry –
The poetry which may be too selfish to be good-
Whose moral failure makes more prominent its aesthetic flaws-
The poetry which is not so good
And not great
But quite banal and commonplace –
A poet can give his life to his poetry
And that still be nothing at all-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Poetry
Poetry....
.... are words that create beauty
Poetry....
.... are words that are that are illusions of
the Imagination
Poetry....
.... is the art of saying nothing to saying everything Poetry....
.... is like a marriage that are bonded together
to produce bonded together hatred or love Poetry....
.....is a way of how a poet views the world
poem by Frank Pulver
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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...
poem by Akash Agrawal
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A Poet Loses His Power For Poetry
A POET LOSES HIS POWER FOR POETRY
A poet loses his power for poetry
He can put down words
But they no longer have poetry in them
Something of the feeling of what real poetry is
is gone.
He strives
He writes again and again
He puts words down in the forms and in the shapes his poems usually take
But he has no poetry in him
He has lost what he is
And all he can do
is strive again and again
Word after word
Silence after silence
To hear within himself again
A voice he does not have.
The poet is writing poetry
And it is not poetry
The poet is dead
And he is pretending to be alive
Is this a poem?
Is he a poet
Is he dead?
Is he alive?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
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With several different kinds of poetry to choose from, a man would decide that he would like best to be an epic poet, and he would set out, in conscious determination, on an epic poem.
quote by Lascelles Abercrombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry To Me
What is poetry to me- it is words of beauty-words of life
Words of love, pain and sacrifice.
Words of showing and growing and needing and feeding
Words of hope and despairs, wanting and cares.
Poetry takes you into the minds of mankind
From days of old to the present time.
Poetry takes you on trips that you've never been before
And opens up every door.
Poetry becomes a longing, a want, a desire, a need
On which your mind must feed.
It becomes a life within itself
And takes you to the heavens and down to hell.
Poetry becomes a flaming desire
And only writing can put out this fire.
I call it my passion while others say it's my obsession
Yet! No matter what they may think or say
Poetry is here to stay.
So many different types of poetry
For the different minds 'you see'.
You will always find one that will give you meaning
From a loving heart to one that's bleeding.
Jump on the bandwagon and take a hold
For with poetry ' life unfolds'.
poem by Louis Rams
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Monkeys
sorry i treated you the way
i did usurping the monkey
in you that dies to jump about,
life once so clearly spelt out
the monkey that caught my heart
years ago with its perpetual winking eyes -
a hundred times a minute
in its curiosity of the world
the money that crafted a net in my heart
sorry that i had nearly suffocated
your monkey and thanks for
shaking me into realisation
i have chained your monkey
blown away its vital K
all these life struggles to jump
a step over the others have
nearly turned us into a creature
carved of stone - a huge black boulder,
so cold and impenetrable
we could look into each other
without getting to the vital core
always overwhelmed by a
chilling towering stone
only the warm lively monkey
would give a life back to us
the only creature i could fall for solace
i would trade with anything
to put back the K in you so that
our life would be fun and warm
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Without Poetry
WITHOUT POETRY
Without Poetry
Life can still have meaning
One need not be a poet
To live-
Life has poetry in so many other words
Words of Poetry are not all and all -
Yet with them
How much more meaningful in feeling
Our life can be-
Without a poem
It is possible-
With Poetry
Life is more.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Preachers Turn To Poetry
preachers turn to poetry
which is a most natural thing to do
since most revelations are in verse;
preachers, like the wily snake in Paradise,
look for cunning new ways: and so they turn to poetry sites
and take on the roles of poets
and disguise sermons in verse
and Stalin-style Revelations of Guilt and Sin
and Fearful Humility as poems;
and in Ppreachers turn to poetry
which is a most natural thing to do
since most revelations are in verse;
preachers, like the wily snake in Paradise,
look for cunning new ways: and so they turn to poetry sites
and take on the roles of poets
and disguise sermons in verse
and Stalin-style Revelations of Guilt and Sin
and Fearful Humility as poems;
and in Paradise these will sit as Poet Laureates
winning Eternal Fame
churning out Infinite Praise in standard and approved stock and phrase;
and poets who talk about being human
and the beauty of the morning
and who so cannot make The Big Wizard smile
these wretched poets will bark doggerel in Hell...
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Infuse Life To Fly
The poet can take particle to the sky
And may infuse life in death to fly
Vicious verse will declare him a sly.
As long as there is glow in the sun
Poetry will keep the lives full of fun
Lovers of poetry exclaim “Well done! ”
Mind your words are lovely dark and deep
Welfare of the human beings do keep
Lofty thoughts of no use if sigh and weep
Mind over words as mirror of your thought
Vision, mission or poison have wrought
Let your readers never feel thoughts were bought
Vice or virtue boldly mark your verse
Metaphor or similes utter in terse
Grand style with cynicism is source of curse
Let not take the help of sacred poetry
To prove right injustice and bigotry
It is poet’s poetry to show gallantry
Who is in the world to protect poetry?
As we define it – is the voice of God
Time fears absence of essence calls it fraud.
Farce words, lewd thoughts seem shocking banality
Ribald passion eclipses its vitality
Need tempest to uproot urge of new gen with agility
Display your thoughts of a fragrant vase
That soothes the mind glare smile on the face
Such sorts of verve harbinger of grace.
poem by Shujaat Hussain
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Verbal Tapestry
Such tapestries of magic wrought
by masters of their chosen art;
whose measured worth cannot be bought.
Within this place wizardry's taught
and each magician plays a part
in tapestries of magic wrought.
A diverse and bewitching lot,
some sassy, saucy, suave and smart;
whose measured worth cannot be bought.
Across the zones of time and thought
they serve poetic a-la-carte.
with tapestries of magic wrought.
With grace a moment can be caught
by artists of the quill and heart,
whose measured worth cannot be bought.
And with fresh, enchanting thought
this simple wizard makes a start
at tapestries of magic wrought.
whose measured worth cannot be bought.
poem by John Roche
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Beauty on a Page
Poetry is the lyrics to an enchanting melody,
one that was composed for the simple purpose
of having beautiful words attached to it.
Poetry is chicken noodle soup
on a cold day when the soul is sad
and bones are aching with cold.
It is the medicine needed
when one feels lost or lonely
and only words of comfort are needed.
Poetry is a beautiful butterfly,
floating on a spring breeze,
flowing, gliding, whispering.
Poetry is the realization
and the answer to life's
toughest and most difficult questions.
It is the sound of soft wings
beating against air as a bird is released
from being captive and scared.
Poetry is simply a combination
of everything beautiful in life,
of everything fragile.
It is love, hope, pain, sadness, fear,
It is beauty on a page.
poem by Nick Downer
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The Trials & Tribulations Of Poetry...
Melodrama..........has never been my cup of tea
'Less, the spotlight of center stage.....be on me
Cross pens are mightier...than a sterling sword
Still i'd rather a Bugatti...than a brand new Ford.
When sunsets catch my eye's......i'm so inclined
To paint a scape of words.....of twilights skyline
I'm just an imagist.....spinning picturebook tales
Some simpatico in weight......on prosaic scales
'Tis what i do, to keep my mind's eye free of rust
Never wrote Sestina.........6 of 6 is too much fuss
Yet true poetry is fuss about perfection, an' more
Requiring the will, and want to adhere, 'n explore
Many say poetry...is merely image and depiction
Yet this claim falls far short....of its pure definition
Beauty of the substance.......the sweet of the flow
That's what draws the line, 'tween poetry, 'n prose
One need not rhyme, true poetry's self-melodious
Lyrical in flounce 'n flux, and yes quite harmonious
Too many think themselves a''Poet''......so absurd
For so few have mastered the art of Written Word
Thats why prose today....is the substitute of poetry
With no restrictions.......your limits are virtually free
As for me, i am no Poet..............Nor shall i ever be
I'm just an imagist....content with my picture stories
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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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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