Sonnet: Thanks, Dear Poet Francis Duggan!
When sincere, honest words come from a peer,
Acknowledging a fellow poet’s work,
What joy afills the latter’s heart, Oh dear!
Would not the ecstasy turn him berserk?
The accreditation is charming too;
As words revered come from a heart of love,
And everything mentioned is very true,
I’m sure they’re inspired by God above!
The dedication seems indeed superb;
With foresight that a few poets possess,
The verse appears green like a magic herb!
I pray that God must Francis Duggan bless.
Oh, what a way to laud a poet’s verse!
So, thank you Francis for your poem terse.
Dedicated fondly to Poet Francis Duggan,
As a token of appreciation for his
‘John Celes’ at Web Poetry Corner
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-10-2006
poem by John Celes

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Related quotes
I never said I was a poet just a man
dear francis,
do not call yourself
'just a man',
do not deprive yourself
the laurels of
'a poet'
you are a man, and a man is more than a poet
the man with the urge to write is more than a man without an urge
even just to write
and be this 'poet'
the poets (those taking the top charts) either have died
(and take the fame posthumously) or they have rested
on laurel
leaves, or they have confined themselves on
some
writers' block
but you francis
behold the stars and the other suns
has written more
and toiled more, your fruits are many
and more have eaten them
tasted how sweet what wisdom you have
i crown you the true laurels
these living laurels of poetry
moving, alive, toiling, working, always thinking
about those that must come
next for generations to come
i crown you,
Francis Duggan
the true laurels of working, moving, living poetry
i give you the title,
the true, living poet.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Our Poetry Critics
Our poetry critics ageing males on saturday evenings from six to nine
Meet at the literary room of the Lions Club to do what suits them fine
To talk of poetry and poets each to their point of view
Though they agree on one thing that good poets only few.
Well educated gents of course and they could not be rude
But contemporary rhyme poets only poetasters and them they exclude
From their talk of poets and poetry and in their literary knowledge they take pride
And who is or who is not a poet seems their right to decide.
They never talk about bush poets such verse they see as slipshod
And they see them as the children of the lesser poetry god
And for their years in Uni they have their degrees to show
And of poets and of poetry so much they think they know.
To them a poem is not a poem unless it reads like prose
And a ballad different from true verse as a weed is from a rose
And true poets only write for the privileged few that's what they do imply
And never for the ordinary, people like you and I.
Our poetry critics at the Lions they meet on saturday
And who is a good poet and what is a good poem each like to have their say
And if you wish to become a member of their club you must have your Uni Degrees
For if not to them you are not qualified for to talk about poetry.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Song Of A Rhyming Man
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
This modern verse too much for me it's way above my head
Though modern poets are now the rage and Rhyme is with the dead.
I love the sound of rhyming words, I love the verse that rhyme
To blank or free or non rhyme verse prefer it every time
And there's many who will disagree and most will say I'm wrong
But give me ballad or rhyme verse or good old rhyming song.
You may say I am limited and with you most will agree
That I'm not into modern verse of twenty first century
But I've been an old style rhyming man since nineteen seventy three
And I am in my sixties now and there's no changing me.
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
And I am guilty of no sin and I can't see no crime
In liking sound of rhyming verse and loving words that rhyme
poem by Francis Duggan

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On A Famed Poet
Forgive me if his greatness I cannot seem to note
His poems never rhyme but he is a famed poet
By literary experts considered to be knowledgeable and wise
And for his poems he has won many a prize.
Though poetry is not very popular today
The poet of the poetry lovers the experts do say
In University literary magazines students his verses read
And they all agree he's a fine poet indeed.
Of poets and poetry I must confess so little I know
My favourites old rhymers from ages ago
On the poetry I do not like most experts agree
That it is well written and quite good poetry.
Forgive me if the worth in his verse I can't see
His non rhyming poetry does nothing for me
Of reading blank verse I do quickly grow tired
My truth is by such stuff I do not feel inspired.
The experts on his poetry great interest show
And his stature as a poet only seems to grow
Of him great things are written and great things we hear
And good luck to him on his literary career.
poem by Francis Duggan

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John Masefield Was More
John Masefield was more than a man of rhyme
Perhaps the greatest poet of his time
At least that's how I feel about him anyway
Though some may not agree with what I say.
John Masefield he penned many a verse play
And even his longer poems enjoyed and read today
The Everlasting Mercy and The Widow in the Bye Street
As narrative masterpieces would be hard to beat.
John Masefield literary works will live forever more
His fame has spread far beyond England's shore
He was a master of the wordsmith trade
'Tis true that poets are born and not made.
John Masefield was more than a literary man of note
He was indeed a very brilliant poet
A high standard of writing into old age he did attain
And will we ever see his likes again?
poem by Francis Duggan

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John Masefield Was Much More Than A Poet Laureate
John Masefield was much more than a poet laureate he was indeed a verse maker supreme
His longer poems are surely masterpieces and will live for centuries or so it would seem
From his prolific pen the rhymes kept flowing he kept on penning till the day he died
No doubt about it born to be a wordsmith and greatness of him cannot be denied
John Masefield wrote the poetry of the masses and in his lifetime was famed Worldwide
His 'Reynard The Fox' the greatest hunting poem ever of the hunting people of the English countryside
His other famed longer poems 'The Daffodil Fields' and 'The Everlasting Mercy' and 'Dauber' the boy artsist who died at sea
As well as others are true masterpieces to rhyme to him seemed to come easily
His descriptive powers to say the least amazing it must be true that poets are born not made
For sixty years he was a major poet a literary icon of the wordsmith trade
John Masefield he was Ledbury's greatest poet one might say a manufacturer of rhyme
For many years he was Britain's Poet Laureate until he too lost out to father time
He truly was the poet of the people and poets of his stature as always are rare
He died an old man in his eighty ninth year with England's best he surely does compare.
poem by Francis Duggan

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The Most Famous I Am Poem
The most famous I Am poem was penned by John Clare
When he was in Northampton mental asylum and burdened by care
A poem from all others that set him apart
For life's poor and forsaken a cry from the heart,
A poem by an aged poet lost in the lost years
The most famous I Am poem move many to tears
A poem written by one who knew about despair
That poem his reality such poems are rare
The most famous I Am poem tells of an Earthly Hell
Known by the fringe dwellers the mentally unwell
The song of an old poet forsaken and gray
The truth in his words is still living today
And though the renowned old wordsmith to the reaper long gone
His famous I Am poem it is living on.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Acrostic Sonnet: God Made Me a Poet
God bestowed me with poesy so fine;
Only a few on earth are gifted thus;
Did I deserve to drink this wine divine?
May glory be to God and to Jesus!
And He gave me the words that came by heart;
Deciding what and how to write for long;
Eventually that turned into an art!
My soul in ecstasy has made a song!
Enticing me with themes divine on earth;
And goading me to ink my pleasant words,
People wonder if I’m poet by birth?
Obeying God, I did like many birds.
Eternity in Heaven is my aim –
The place, we all must enter with great name!
My 2121st poem
Dedicated to thank my God and Jesus Lord!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-26-2008
poem by John Celes

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A Poet Of Our Time
He doesn't like non rhyming poetry ignore what he has to say
About your fashionable writing you are the poet of the day
Your thoughts on paper are as deep as the ocean you are a wise one indeed
You are an emerging writer as a poet you will succeed
Everyone has their opinions no two exactly the same
He doesn't like modern poetry but he has not sullied your name
It only means you are a good writer when others your works criticize
You are a poet of the future you've won a literary prize
At poetry nights you read your verses and always for you there's an encore
You feel so proud and so happy when the audience they beg you for more
People love you for your poetry see you as a poetic great
But not everyone as you know your success will celebrate
He is a man of the fifties he only likes poems that rhyme
So many do love your poetry you are a poet of our time.
poem by Francis Duggan

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A Poet Of Our
He doesn't like non rhyming poetry ignore what he has to say
About your fashionable writing you are the poet of the day
Your thoughts on paper are as deep as the ocean you are a wise one indeed
You are an emerging writer as a poet you will succeed
Everyone has their opinions no two exactly the same
He doesn't like modern poetry but he has not sullied your name
It only means you are a good writer when others your works criticize
You are a poet of the future you've won a literary prize
At poetry nights you read your verses and always for you there's an encore
You feel so proud and so happy when the audience they beg you for more
People love you for your poetry see you as a poetic great
But not everyone as you know your success will celebrate
He is a man of the fifties he only likes poems that rhyme
So many do love your poetry you are a poet of our time.
poem by Francis Duggan

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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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A Message Here For All You Poets
The love poet writes of lovely things like true love and flowers in bloom
And the roses in the poet's garden scent of a sweet perfume
And the gentle hearted applaud him saying what a marvellous poet
He surely is a child of God and one worthy of note.
The love poet writes of love of God and the God fearing say
He's a fine poet one of the best love and respect to God he pay
He hear no evil speak no evil only write of God and love
And there's a place reserved for him in God's Kingdom up above.
The social issues poet writes of the poor and few his verses read
They say he writes such morbid stuff sob stories we do not need
He keeps highlighting the downtrodden and those in poverty
He ought to put more trust in God and in Humanity.
A message here for all you poets don't write of the downtrod
But write of affairs of your heart and write of your love of God
And some will say how great you are and your praises they will sing
And they will pay respect to you and call you their Poetic Queen or King.
poem by Francis Duggan

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A Poet To Be
A poet I claim not to be,
For words are never there.
In all the years I've tried to write,
I have no words to share.
I sit and think but nothing comes,
No inspiration here.
I want to write of anything,
But still no words I fear.
I read the works of other poets,
I wish I were like them.
How do they write such beautiful lines,
A poet, I'm not him.
I try to write from the heart,
From deep within my soul.
I try to write of the love I have,
But cannot reach my goal.
But why I ask, why can't I write,
Of love so pure and true.
Why can't I write about her eyes,
A mix of green and blue.
I want to write about her smile,
It brightens up my day.
I try to think of anything,
But words I cannot say.
I wish I knew how to write,
A poem with such bliss.
I wish I knew how to describe,
Her soft but tender kiss.
I cannot even begin to write,
How she holds me tight.
How her arms around me,
Makes everything just right.
A poet does not have to think,
The words flow right out.
When I sit and try to write,
I want to scream and shout.
I mean come on, how hard can it be,
To write about her hair.
Such long beautiful natural blonde,
That flows in the air.
I try to write about her laugh,
The words will not fly.
Time passes and finally,
I say it's soft and high.
It's been an hour and a half,
I'm here on verse twelve.
I had to go to Rhymezone,
To find out the rhyme is shelve.
A poet does not do that,
Go online to find a rhyme.
A poet has it in his head,
And can write at any time.
But a poet I am not,
For I cannot write of love.
How the girl I am with,
Is an angel from up above.
How I love her with all my heart,
And want to spend my life with her.
How her love for me is more,
Than I can ever be for sure.
As I draw near the end,
My mind is not so numb.
I realize I've just written of love,
A poet I have become.
poem by Adam McKim

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Most Of The So Called Literary Experts
Most of the so called literary experts are dismissive of rhyme
They say 'tis the poetry of a long gone time
Yet the poets that they laud the poems they do write
Cannot be put to music and are hard to read and recite
The rhymer of today is not looked on as a poet
Or is not seen as one worthy of literary note
By the so called literary experts with literary degrees
Though their judgement on what is or is not poetry not everyone does please
They never will convince the old style rhyme buff
To him or her well written rhyme is not throw away stuff
In well written rhyme are the words to a song
And good rhyming poetry to music belong
Yet the degreed literary experts who on poetry like to have their say
Dismiss rhyming poets and their poetry as of yesterday.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Sonnet: Poetic Prudence
A fixed meter, fixed rhyme sequence
Are important in Sonnet writing- Yes;
Thus, structured poetry is rigid- hence,
How far the thoughts get penned down is a guess!
The chosen form must suit the writer’s needs;
The structure too reflects the poet’s tone;
Both rosaries and necklaces have beads!
A sonnet must not be a sculptured stone!
Yes, content is more important than form;
The words must flow in harmony aright;
A Sonnet’s structure ought to do no harm
To what the poet intended to write.
What poets say must get the preference;
The other things shall act like just a fence!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-4-2005
poem by John Celes

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Happy Birthday Song
You are my love;
You are my life;
You’re all things to me,
Oh my dear wife!
My dear sweetheart,
If not for you,
Life would be empty,
What would I do?
My love for you,
No words can tell;
But it is so true;
May you live well!
My angel on earth,
Born for me, it seems;
You are my mirth,
My hopes and dreams.
Fondly dedicated to my beloved
Wife, Mercy, on her birthday
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-6-2010
poem by John Celes

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Sonnet: On being a Great Poet-doctor's Wife!
Being the wife of great a poet means
A lot of hardships, sacrifices, hurt,
Penury and honesty-led life-scenes:
A span in which the quality gets cut!
A poet has to work for hours on end,
And stay awake when others slumber on,
Trying to Mother Nature comprehend,
With truth as raiment, words as gems to don!
His better half is left in solitude,
With dreams that never see the light of day;
At times, life can be very cruel, rude!
She prays to God to guide him in right way.
Nevertheless, God knows her share of toil,
And moments great, she took care not to spoil!
Most lovingly dedicated to my beloved wife
Mrs. Mercy Celestine, Podanur
Copyright by Dr John Celes 9-10-12
poem by John Celes

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Sonnet: In Strife, My Soul for God Truly Athirsts
When intense strife afills my heart with woes,
And problems of all sorts dullens my mind,
And supervenes insomnia by foes,
In God and prayer, solace I still find.
When things don’t happen timely when I want,
Immersed in grief, my heart seems wounded much,
With solutions eluding, think I can’t,
I plead and long for Maker’s magic touch.
When all seems lost in life on earth to me,
And not a person offers words of love,
In solitude, I suffer verily,
My only comfort is my God above.
In strife, my soul for God truly athirsts;
When sin-forgiven, jubilantly bursts.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-25-2006
poem by John Celes

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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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Some Say
Some say that I am doomed and bound for hell
Since I commit the sin of doggerel
That I am guilty of the awful crime
Of tainting poetry's name in slipshod rhyme.
Some say I ought to hang my head in shame
Since I am one who sully poetry's name
And though with them I can't say I disagree
Still have they right to pass judgement on me?
Some say that I can never be a poet
Since doggerel is all I've ever wrote
But they tell me something I already know
As I've realized that many years ago.
Some say that I should put my pen away
But I hope that they will never see that day
For though in me I don't have poetic eye
The writing of doggerel verses I enjoy.
Some say that poetry is for those with brains
And not for one whose job is digging drains
And that poet should at least have literary degree
And graduate from university.
Some say that I am guilty of grave wrong
That I defile the name of verse and song
And that there's a place reserved for me in hell
As punishment for writing doggerel.
poem by Francis Duggan

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