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Sonnet: Poetry's Divine

0 hallowed be the mind in solitude!
That holds the pen to rhyme, without fine wine;
His joys and woes caused by the multitude,
For Prose is earthly, Poetry's divine!

Great is the mind that talks from heart to heart,
And praises to his pen which moves as swift;
And within moments, founded is his art,
By thoughts that flash, before his bark's adrift.

Oh, what adroitness marks his mighty pen!
That scribbles fast the thoughts that seize on him?
Though all the while quite passive stays his ken,
Allowing heart to overflow its brim.

0 Prose is earthly, Poetry's divine!
The latter inebriates more than wine.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: God’s Wine

Inebriate me Lord, with Thy celestial wine,
Of mercy, freely, flowing from Thy heart;
Thence-forth let my thoughts/ actions turn divine,
And let my earthly living become art.

Bestow on me a sinner, Thy love’s wine,
Ready forever to intoxicate;
And thereafter, let love spring forth divine;
From my mundane heart and well permeate.

Shower on me, earthling, like rain thy Wine,
Of grace that helps me brave all earthly storms;
Invigorate me Lord, make me divine;
Let me renounce all the demoniac forms.

Let me be drunk in thy mercy, love and grace,
And fight the tempter’s onslaught with great pace.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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.

poem by Isam Hussain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two schools of thought.

.

The lady chose to take offence
Although I said she wrote fine prose
She may not know the difference
between poetry and prose

She thought that she wrote poetry
But what she wrote was free form prose.
I offered no apology
It was not my fault that she chose.

Not to learn the basic rules
defining prose and poetry
Two very different writing schools
in which to show your artistry.

The so called experts can’t agree
and coined the term poetic prose.
Though writing cannot possible
be classed as poetry and prose.

If it’s not metered it is prose
no matter how poetical.
But you’re entitled to compose.
Fine prose and call it poetry.

Though I suggest respectfully
you should be proud of writing prose.
As some do most successfully.
But it was poetry I chose

Thursday,11 March 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Totally Biased

I do not often write free form
to me it is not poetry.
Freely admit my prejudice
I think it’s just a passing phase
Although I can appreciate
poetic and well written prose
This does not make it poetry
When I consult my dictionary
it makes it very clear to me.
All writing must be one of those
It can’t be both at he same time.
Prose poetry cannot exist
an obvious oxymoron
Though modern writer still insist
that what they write is poetry
.It may be really beautiful
and well presented on the page
but definitely not poetry.
Why can they not be satisfied
with their well written thoughts in prose.
Why do they call it poetry
a dandelions not a rose.
Its meter defines poetry
it doesn’t even need to rhyme.
Even free verse had its rules
but writers seem to think today
There are no rules anything goes.
I nail my colours to the mast
Not afraid to let my bias show.

31-Jan-08

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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
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My Poetry Has Become Prose

MY POETRY HAS BECOME PROSE

My Poetry has become Prose
I have lost my music
Nothing sings in me;
I have lost my richness of meaning
Nothing in me is not linear, flat and clear.
I have lost my poetry
And have become a writer of Prose
In pseudo Poetic Form-
There is in me no Line
That says more than itself-
I am Prose now not Poetry
And yet still secretly hoping
My inner irony will
In contradicting me
Save me.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Thousands of eyes

Poetry or prose is a writing.
In prose contents get focus
And in poetry, taste of words.
Prose sounding poetry is sweeter.

We see thousands of stars at night
And only one sun in a day - prose.
The night has thousands of eyes
And the day, only one in sky. - poetry
01.08.2012

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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There is poetry even in prose, in all the great prose which is not merely utilitarian or didactic: there exist poets who write in prose or at least in more or less apparent prose; millions of poets write verses which have no connection with poetry.

quote by Eugenio Montale
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: My Poesy

My Poesy is God-given a gift!
A soothing balm to mind and heart and soul;
No more my ship of life at sea’s adrift;
Bestowed on me has God a better role.

A wordy weapon that can hurt my foes;
A wordy solace that can give mind peace;
A worthy message that can drive out woes;
A ‘destressor’ in distress, giving ease.

My poetry can even others heal!
My poetry has much in-built logic;
My poetry can make all hearts to feel;
My poetry can do wonders/ magic.

My poetry has me endowed mind’s strength,
And I can write quite well for any length.

poem by John Celes
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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

poem by Yvette Smith
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Poetry The Beacon!

Beacon of literature is ever poetry only!
Greatness of literature lies in quality ideas;
Richness of language depends on poetry;
Worthiness of matter in poetry only is best!

Writing needs creative mind whatever thing is!
Novels, Short stories, Prose and Poetry are they
That enhance the richness of literature ever;
That too writing poetry makes one great sure!

Having chosen the form of poetry to write itself
Is not an easy matter as it needs skill and time
To write what one feels, thinks and conceives
In heart, mind and soul, otherwise no good at all!

Other forms of literature needs concentrated work
But poetry needs natural ability to express free all!

poem by Ramesh T A
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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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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Emerald Island

There's so much prose in this world
Yet poetry finds its way out of your heart
Deep inside you is an island of emerald
Where the other you refuses to depart.
There's so much prose in this world
Yet you look for light from the pit
You let your dreams be unfurled
Poetry turns the bitter to sweet.
There's so much prose in this world
Yet in you lives an undying child
That breathes in the island of emerald
Keeps you untamed and wild!

poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Poetry is nature

Poetry is nature,
Poetry is revelation,
Poetry is human,
Poetry is divine.

Unveiling the countrified encounters,
the evolution of the cockroach
and the mythical cactus on the arid
the front and the end;
breaking open the activities
into nature.

The words in the ink
linking present and past
to forecast the prerequisite future.
The revealed talks of the heartbeats
and restoration of tensed souls.

Poetry is nature,
Poetry is expression,
Poetry is in man,
Poetry is divine.

poem by Oyehan Opeyemi Akinkunmi
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Prose on certain occasions can bear a great deal of poetry; on the other hand, poetry sinks and swoons under a moderate weight of prose.

quote by Walter Savage Landor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry Undefined

Poetry is a great many things
to each poet you see,
Poetry even has various meanings
as to what it is to me

Overall,

Poetry is the means
By which my heart communicates,
My mind finds the words
For these feelings and translates

Sometimes,

Poetry is my lover
My fantasies he fulfills
Beckoning me to crisp, white sheets
where my blacks and blues I spill

Or,

Poetry comes as a mysterious moon
appearing softly in the night,
age old secrets of the universe
he reveals to me with his light

See,

Poetry is my spirit
the connection to the Divine,
It lets me see what I am to be,
let’s me soar when I feel confined

So,

Don’t try too hard to define
What poetry really is
Just know that what you get from a poem
Is all a poet had to give

11.25.02

poem by Tamika Stubblefield
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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
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I have a dream

I want to write real poetry
But I’m not sure how I should start
I need someone who can teach me
the basics of poetic art.

I do not know if it should rhyme
and meter is a mystery.
I have the will I have the time.
I somebody will please help me.

I have the urge I have to write
I really want to get it right
What makes it poetry or prose?
there is a difference I suppose.

I know there’s different schools of thought
an ongoing controversy.
I’m simply looking for support
to help me with my poetry.

I have the basic writing tools
a pad a pencil and P.C.
I need to learn the basic rules
which turn prose into poetry.

I am willing to study hard
and heed advice that’s offered me.
By any older wiser bard
who’s skilled at writing poetry.

26-Apr-08

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0039 Well, chop my prose!

…for that’s the way that poetry goes…
and goes…mere pose, tapped out as prose…

Yes, most of us, these days, undisciplined,
approach the temple of pure poetry,
when some thought stirs in deepest heart and mind, ,
with all the earthy tread of careful prose…

yet with a certain hope, a faith, a love,
a purity of heart – that if we tread -
unmetered and unrhymed petitioners -
as pilgrims, sackclothed, ashen from the urn
of some poetic crematorium;

that, as we stumble on the heart’s true path,
the Muse, with long and patient, weary sigh,
- the music of the ages in her ears -
will catch up with our steps along the road
and guide us to that sacred, lovely place
where, with a gasp – our verses dropt from hand –
we’ll be where goodness, truth and beauty dance
and sing and laugh and love – now three; now one.

(thanks, WD)

poem by Michael Shepherd
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