Sonnet: I am Dr. John Celes
I am the Man with an ‘Almighty-pen’!
And loud-speaker voice and tongue both smooth and harsh;
My poems are like eggs from ‘Golden-hen’,
And never will be like the gas from marsh.
I am a Man with a good conscience!
I’ll point my finger at you if you err;
I am a Poet and a man of Science;
Provoke me and a hornet’s nest you’ll stir!
I am a Man who will be Overseer!
And Honesty and Justice- both I want;
No evil-doer escapes me, oh dear!
Songs I will sing and Poems I will chant.
I’m Doctor John Celes, Doctor-Poet!
I know I’m great but none know me as yet.
poem by John Celes
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Related quotes
Doctor’s Day,2010
Doctor, doctor, carer of sick!
Doctor, doctor, healer on earth;
Doctor, doctor, noble is thine field;
Doctor, doctor, serve thine brethren well!
Doctor, labor all the more;
Clean and dress the chronic sore;
Let no person taint thine name;
Never forget thine great aim.
Doctor, let not wealth allure;
Doctor, lead a life all pure;
Doctor, try to always cure;
God will bless thee on earth, sure.
Dear Dr.B, K, Padmavathi M.D.,
‘Happy Doctor’s Day,2010! ’
From the Dean and staff of IRT, PMC
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-1-2010
poem by John Celes
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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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Sonnet: Unique Are My Poems All
Who knew the kind of stuff, I was made of?
Who thought would flow my numbers, this much fast?
And now, the world around me dare not laugh;
As Indian Sonneteer, my spell is cast.
My other poems too are very good;
Simple, direct, they often have morals;
And write most poems in fast-track, I could;
And most of them will bring many laurels.
I writ my poems for all men to read;
They have the answers, they had been seeking;
And some do happen to be hybrid seed;
And they will find many to their liking.
My poems will help them to live better;
And Doctor John Celes is trend-setter!
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Speak the Truth Always
Open your heart and speak the truth therein;
Let not your tongue utter its usual lies;
For bearing false witness is mortal sin,
And Hell is punishment if man so dies!
Just listen to your conscience and speak;
Your evil words will one day God’s wrath reap;
John Celes is a doctor in his peak;
And God, his Friend and Guide who loves him deep.
No man is cleverer than God you know;
His justice, honesty prevails on earth;
To these ideals as doctors, we must bow,
Until we take our earthly life’s last breath.
Just speak the truth until the very last,
And do your duty to your God steadfast.
poem by John Celes
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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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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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The Poems Of John Clare
For years in Northampton mental asylum he battled his ghosts of despair
His Nation's finest poet of Nature the marvellous wordsmith John Clare
So many of his poems are relevant today
The one who loved Nature with words had a way.
The Helpston he grew up in not a cultural place
And though in that old Village his was a known face
They little realized the fame to them he'd bring
That poetry lovers World wide his praises would sing.
Without him less people of Helpston would know
The great poet of Nature of centuries ago
He died in Northampton mental asylum in dire poverty
Yet is there one greater Nature poet than he?
His flora and fauna poems have passed scrutiny's test
And as a Nature poet he was surely the best
Into the soul of Nature it seemed he could see
And his verses have outlived his mortality.
He never did enjoy his literary renown
And he died in the asylum in Northampton Town
But he was a true poet and his type are so rare
And old Helpston lives on in the poems of John Clare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Arguably John Clare
In the English language the greatest poet of Nature is arguably John Clare
Many of his bird and animal and insect poems are gems beyond compare
Yet he died in Northampton mental asylum where he had lived for many years
He penned such marvellous poetry though his life was full of tears.
His Nature poems of the nineteenth century are relevant to today
The Badger and The Landrail, The Fox and Clock a Clay
The Pettichap, The Cuckoo and The Thrush's Nest
When Writing about Nature Clare was at his best.
In death the poor shepherd poet from Helpston has come into his own
His poems poetic classics around the World are known
The greatest Nature poet of England as many would agree
A poet for the ages from a life of poverty.
As a boy amongst Nature in the fields of Helpston he knew of happiness
But sad to think one like him in life did not know of success
With any English Nature poet he favourably does compare
The legendary one of Helpston the reamarkable John Clare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Hand That Feeds
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Please, doctor, doctor, please
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Feel like an old diseace
Get your sweet ass off the floor
Doctor, doctor, doctor
I cant refuse any loose harted lady anymore
I scream your name into the crowd
You feel the flame, but yo aint proud
Mabye your attitude aint right
So all thats left for me to do is bite
The hand that feeds me
Feeds me
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Doctor, doctor, please
All things you put me through
What the hell you want me to
Do all the things that uncle john needs
I aint the dog that bites the hand that feeds me
In the middle of, with a spittle of
Et tu like birds of a feather
When another day, love another way
Push, shove, make love, play
Never never, never ever
Never ever, never ever
Na, na...
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Please do a-what you can
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Would you please give my life a hand
All the things you put me trough
What the hell you want me to
Do all the things that uncle john needs
I aint the dog that bites the hand that feeds me, yeah
Doctor, doctor, doctor
Doctor, doctor, please
(repeat)
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happy Doctors’ Day,2008
All doctors are not demi-gods;
No doctor is miraculous;
All doctors are human beings,
Who help the sick and try to cure.
But doctors deal with human lives;
The profession’s noblest of all;
The Healer is Almighty God;
The doctor is His instrument.
The world is rife with ailments new;
The doctor strives his best to cure;
The doctor lessens suffering;
The miracles are done by God.
Yet, newer therapies have come;
The future for patients is bright;
Let people be more health-aware,
And live lives longer happily.
‘A Happy Doctors’ Day, ’08! ’
Pray God gives cures for more ailments;
The body’s, mind’s health stands foremost;
The doctor is like you, human.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-1-2008
poem by John Celes
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Before a Poetry Reading
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I'm feeling nervous but I mustn't show it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I hope to heaven that I won't blow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I mustn't reveal that I'm a second-rate poet!
I'm only a rhymer, but they don't know it!
If you've got no talent you'll have to grow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Isolation Rocks
to read poets
their poems
is time choice
actually poet
would write
more superior
poems
if educated read
other poets?
interacted more
nothing happens
in still isolation?
isolation rocks
soul voice would
become more
mainstream
golden voice
is orchestra
soloist singers
must solo sing
orchestra backed?
therefore
give me
the crags
rivers
waterfalls
wilderness
as I sing
their alone
only echoes
are
distant
heard
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Sonnet: What A Good Poem Does?
A good poem exits the poet’s heart,
When inspired enough, flowing with ease,
In a way emotional, right from the start;
When feelings abate, it will tend to cease.
A good poem lifts up the reader’s heart
In the same manner, the poet had felt,
With attributes right that speak of his art;
The reader’s mind, a candle-like does melt.
A good poem’s a musical fine piece,
Rhythmical too, whenever it can be;
And like nectar to honey-making bees,
Giving, feeling of immortality.
Good poems come only once in a while,
When writes the poet, from his heart in style.
poem by John Celes
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John Masefield He Wrote Long Stories In Rhyme
For many years England's Poet Laureate but that's going back in time
John Masefield he wrote long stories in rhyme
True genius of him none could deny
His great poems to his greatness testify,
In the Literary World John Masefield held in high esteem
Of his era perhaps the poet supreme
As a young man as a deck hand he spent some time at sea
And much of the bigger World out there he did see
His Saltwater Ballads his ticket to fame
And in poetry his became a household name
His last remains in Nature's bosom lay
But his long narrative poems are read and enjoyed today
Far from England's shore by many a Masefield fan
He lives in his poems the great Ledbury man.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Amazing Joyce
On such rare and marvellous talent how can one put a price
She surely is amazing the one and only Joyce
She has tried every form of poetry one must say with success
And to lovers of poetry Worldwide she brings great happiness.
The marvellous Joyce Hemsley a poetic legend of our time
The internet queen of haiku and senryu and the internet queen of rhyme
Six thousand poems to her name she just goes on and on
One cannot say about her that her better days are gone.
In every one of her poems one can detect her poetic voice
The poet for all Seasons is the amazing Joyce
What can be said about her that has not been said before
Six thousand poems to her name and from her expect many more.
She waves the literary banner for England a true poetic great
The amazing poet from Sunderland we ought to celebrate
A legendary online poet by example she leads the way
And surely a great mentor to all young poets of today.
poem by Francis Duggan
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If You Are a Poet
If you are a poet it means so much
as others souls you often touch.
Your own soul you cruelly cut
petting the others with your blood.
To be a poet means to sing of beauty
and it’s the main poet’s duty.
Rhyming the words to tell the truth
and it has to be quite smooth.
To be a poet means to burn with passion,
to treat the others grief with a compassion,
to love the others as yourself,
to hear the voice of kind elf.
To be a poet means to dream,
to tell the world a touching theme,
to speak sincerely and frankly
but not just rhyming poems blankly.
Rhyming words is not the main,
there’s no need to strain your brain.
If your heart has nothing to tell
rhymed words will look like hell.
To be a poet means to write
as if your blood gushes from vein,
to write the rhythm of living breath,
the rhythm of life that seethe.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
30/9 2010
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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A Doctor Makes a Perfect Poet?
‘A Physician makes a perfect poet, ' why?
-He sees the human being in more ways
Than other professionals throughout his life:
In times of suffering, joy, ecstasy, pain;
From womb to tomb, in throes of death, dying.
In coma, Id, super-ego, ego;
And when one regains life by miracle;
In anger, anguish, depression and guilt;
In hate and vengeance, cancer-stricken late;
In sleeplessness, despair, hysterical,
In every age, sex, walk of life on earth.
A doctor makes a perfect poet - true;
His art of observation, inference,
Inquiry, patience, imagination,
Render him way ahead of most people.
But poetry comes by inspiration best!
Poets are born and moulded through sheer toil;
The art of listening, empathy, ethics,
Makes doctor's mind and heart utmost ideal
For poesy - word-painting - a God's gift!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-10-12
poem by John Celes
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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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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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Illusions In G Major
On the seven seas there was aphantom ship acoming,
Shinin in the dead of night,
I heard the crew a hummin
Tunes that sounded like the rolling stones and leonard cohen.
But they didnt know the words,
So I assumed that they was foreign.
Chorus
But I heard them just the same doctor let me teach em,
I just wanna please em, doctor let me teach em.
I looked up in the sky there was a phantom plane a comin,
Shinin in the dead of night,
I heard the pilot saying,
Poems that were written by john keats and robert browning.
But he didnt know the words so,
I suppose that it was nothing.
Chorus
But I heard them just the same doctor let me teach em,
I just wanna please em, doctor let me teach em.
Doctor please believe me, I know you wont decieve me,
But do these things Im seein, have any hidden meaning.
Its all good entertainment and it doesnt cost a penny.
So please doc, let me teach em, if I could only reach em.
Chorus
But I heard them just the same doctor let me teach em,
I just wanna please em, doctor let me teach em.
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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