My Fate
Writing poetry and writing music
and the creation of the rhyme
fills my days but not my heart
and allows for the passage of time.
Then just what is it that you want?
The act should content you now.
Tell that to my heart, dear one.
Make it understand somehow.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Related quotes
A Revolution Poetry Is....!
Are you writing words of rhythm according to thoughts?
Or are you coining words of thoughts according to rhythm?
Or are you writing poetry both working at the same time?
Asking so, if they ask me how to write poetry, what shall I say?
Poetry writing is natural, spontaneous expression from heart!
How can this be taught to anyone to write poetry ever at all?
Poetry is a spontaneous flow of words direct from heart ever!
I wonder many a time how am I writing poetry at all ever!
But this is happening to my great surprise since longtime!
Due to engagements ever poetry only I am able to write
Though my aim in the beginning was writing stories.....,
Novels, short stories and nonfiction articles of criticism!
Poetry books too I have completed writing so since long
But what a pity there is no reception for poetry books...!
poem by Ramesh T A
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I Can Write Poetry All Day Long
I CAN WRITE POETRY ALL DAY LONG
I can write Poetry all day long
But what will it give me?
There is just so much others will listen to
If anything?
And what is the value of writing words to myself for myself
Even if I love them
And believe they are real poetry,
And know in my soul
That their music is real?
I can write Poetry all day long
Or think I am writing poetry
When I am not-
Am I writing poetry now?
I feel I am-
Within me there is the song and the sound
There is the music of poetry
But is it real
Or only my self- deception?
Can I write poetry all day long?
Can I write poetry at all?
I am writing poetry now
Or so I tell myself-
But as I write this
The music within
Is already fading
And I hear in myself
The silence of my own lonely sound.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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It Is A Habit
writing poems
when you really write poems
everyday and every moment of your life
even when you're in the middle of your
bread and butter eating thing
or even when you are defecating
writing poems becomes a habit
even when you sleep even when you dream
writing poems becomes a part of your system
you eat poetry you vomit poetry
you digest poetry you poo poetry
you breathe poetry you sweat poetry
you love poetry and you live with your poetry
and at the end you die with poetry
and your epitaph says: here lies the poet,
choked with poetry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Heart Is With All Those Who Did Not Make It
MY HEART IS WITH ALL THOSE WHO DID NOT MAKE IT
My heart is with all those who did not make it-
Who never got there
Who aspired and tried
And worked hard
And did not make it.
I know -
For forty years
I have been one of us.
Out there alone- trying
Writing and writing
Getting nowhere.
Let us in the very act of the Writing
Be for once-
Our own critics and judges
And say,
“We have done something
We are real now
Nameless or not
Our poems are here.”
-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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It's For Me
Poetry for me, is just like breathing
I inhale Life and exhale poems
It's for me - I do the writing
No matter, if ever, comments come.
As chosen words come out soothing
Release the pained and burdened heart
I find relief in simply writing
Touching others with what I impart.
But always the joy is within me
The reading by others may truly bless
I'm grateful they read my poetry
But the writing is my true happiness!
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Heart Print
leaving a heart print
behind my poetry
is more than leaving
a treasure
a rare treasure
forever etched in my heart
it is more
than the highest rating that I got
even if some words
are not too deep to utter
nor in a sophisticated manner
but simple words to convey
giving my simple voice behind
it is in writing poetry
that we capture in words our feelings
the magic of human life and emotions
we wanted to convey,
to reach out
to be understood
and to understand
writing poetry
is sometimes lonely
takes me
into that place
of deep feeling
that leads to praying
my conversation to a God
who knows it all,
my all, my everything
thanks a lot,
for those wonderful heart prints
you wonderfully
and lovingly left behind
it means so much to me
they are....
the treasures of the heart
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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Private Poetry
Every poem, Every poetry,
Where are all the poets?
Hiding out, Hiding away.
In the beaches, forests,
In the caves and rooms,
In the islands and temples.
Make their private poetry,
Every now and then,
Here and there,
Over here, Over there.
Somewhere, somewhen,
Someone, somebody,
No one, No body,
Some here, some there.
Somehow, not matter how,
Everywhere, every when,
Every turn, every look,
Every search, every research,
There is a private poet.
Making a private poetry,
Writing private poems,
Writing lovely poems,
Writing profound poetries.
For the world and all
To ponder,
To reflect,
To open our heart,
To hear and listen;
What poets have
To say and write,
In a private poetry,
For the world to read
And treasure.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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The Time Of Poetry Has Come
THE TIME OF POETRY HAS COME
The time of Poetry has come
I feel it within myself
Somehow waiting to be said
Worlds are hidden
And feel ready to come into being-
The time of Poetry is here
And I am writing now easily
Yet somehow within the poetry
And beyond it
Is something that needs to be said
Which my poetry now cannot say-
The Poetry the real Poetry
May be within me
And yet beyond myself
So that what I am writing now
Is not it,
But only an excuse for mentioning that
It can never really be mine.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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No Money in Poetry
Oh he wants me to stop
Writing poetry for nothing
He'd love to see me drop
This pen for other things.
It will not make me rich
That's what he always says
Late nights of writing which
Wastes my time and does not pay.
In poetry there is no money
But I need to be a writer
For I can say this truthfully
There's no poetry in money either.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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I´m as a Drifting Cloud
Like my heart is in the gutter of the street going
I´m as a drifting cloud so high and faraway
Every dream of my inside yearning is always knowing
What it is that comes and gives more to say?
Feelings never seem to stand by at any given door
It looks like they are going to somewhere
With their drifting thoughts that always are for more
And never can be at the same levels here
For the days are always passing on by to there
Each of you who know the truth of my true inside
With the wanderings that came about to give
Where the lights of city lights glimmer and glide
To flicker in the shadows of a glow that can’t live
Feelings never seem to stand by at any given door
It looks like they are going to somewhere
With their drifting thoughts that always are for more
And never can be at the same levels here
For the days are always passing on by to there
Somewhere you are in the distances of day
Like a morning coming up that cannot stay
In my thought that are so restless in their play
Like my heart is in the gutter of the street going
I´m as a drifting cloud so high and faraway
*(Remember this is a lyric... The other part of my writing output is lyric writing and it’s as large as my poetry writing. However my largest output is writing music... Please Google 'Peter S. Quinn' If you’d like to see more. Thanks for your time. Peter)
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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I Come Alive In Writing
I come alive in writing
Even if the writing means nothing to anyone else-
I come alive in writing
Even if I am totally deluding myself as to its value-
I come alive in writing
Even if at times while writing there is an underlying hopelessness and despair -
I come alive in writing
As if writing is what God has given me to do-
I come alive in writing
As if through it I can truly give to and help others-
I come alive in writing
As if life has meaning through it-
I come alive in writing
Even when I sense the writing is not good or great
As I would wish it to be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
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Only You (Can Make My Heart Sing)
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Wasting ‘way days of the past
Wonderin’ where my life would go
So I worried ‘bout tomorrow
In a world so ready to blow
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Use to write songs for the deaf
Songs about my pain and strife
Songs of hate and of confusion
Living death while thinking it life
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Then you’re holy spirit within me
Taught me truth of today
And what your lovin’ means and why I am here
I’m to serve you with all of my heart with all of my mind through your spirit dear
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Now is the time I contend with
Writing every song for you
Praising you for all you have given
Believing in your word of truth
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Only you can make my heart sing
Yes, only you can make my heart sing
poem by Will Fiala
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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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With All The Reading and Writing I Do
With all the reading and writing I do
With all the work of the mind and heart
There comes a time
It can be any time
There comes a time
When the Poem must enter-
The Poem?
The deeper feeling-
The Music of the soul-
What I most need to say inside
The Writing which somehow surpasses all the other
In its inner intensity in its deepest feeling –
I write a poem now
All my heart mind soul
Go into every word and phrase.
The Poem? The Poem?
For which I write to live
And which through writing
I most live in Writing-
The Poem that this is.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Poet 2 Poet
We all have different writing styles, and we
May not all have grace and poise.
But when we do write, it’s all to make some noise.
We want to be recognized by the co-poets
All fair and true.
For writing our poetry is what we all like to do.
So I welcome all my co-poets who take this beautiful ride
And all their dreams and visions, they do find.
We do not only write what comes into our minds
But we write from the heart
And this is where poetry gets its start.
So continue to write all that you see and feel
Because these are human emotions.
That from us, no one can steal.
WELCOME ABOARD THIS TRAIN OF POETRY.
poem by Louis Rams
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Writing To
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Writing every emotion..
With such a white background.
It makes no sound
Even as the keys I pound.
Let my words have bite
Let from my words drip out meanings beyond meanings
Its something I try to be constantly be achieving.
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
I want every heart and mind
Sucked in cause this is my world stage
No sense of the time.
Never to turn the page
Stuck in to a world oh so oh so fine
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Listen to her melody, as she sings.
Let chaos reign down from the skies
What will this day really bring?
Will the letter say good bye?
Will it mend everything?
Making everything better.
Destroying all the consequences
That exist in your world.
Welcome to the place I visit daily.
Inspirational maddness,
It attacks, attacks, and attacks.
With perfect sadness
I must let go once more.
And then the words hit the floor
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
Becoming one with my soul.
Fighting for its one and only control.
Its mine, Its mine. Its mine.
In this reality it subsequently is not
A constant questioning of what?
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
With every sound, taste, and light.
The worlds get get oh so oh so bright
Understand that which is not so forthright
This is my night, and day.
So come on join me, please this way.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Just Another One Of Those Poem Thingies...
Well as you can tell,
This is just another one of those poem thingies.
But I ask you,
'What is poetry? I mean,
Do people just write words in wierd orders.'
Well, poetry is an expression,
An opinion, well I guess it could be,
Anything,
From a very 'sensitive' piece of writing
To an essay that you wrote three years ago.
The definition that you find in a dictionary
Has nothing to do with poetry.
It is just a summary,
No an assumsion of what those fools writing the dictionaries
Think it is.
Poetry is whatever you want it to be.
So next time some person who thinks that they're too cool,
And that your so stupid because you like poetry,
Weather it's writing it or just reading it,
Tell them that they write it too,
Weather or not they consider it to be poetry,
It's their opinion and anything,
Can be poetry.
I have a love for poetry,
That can not be described.
I know,
That sounds obsesive.
But I really do love poetry.
I feel like I can say anything and,
It doesn't have to be serious,
I mean it can,
But it is not required.
Nothing is required of you when you write poetry.
It is relaxing,
A chance to step aside from life,
Even if it's just for a few minutes.
I do it for my own enjoyment an relaxation.
Why do you?
poem by Maddy Macleod
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Scribbles Transcribed
Some write for glory and for fame.
I write because I am obsessed
and wordplay is my favourite game.
I concentrate on poetry
Because I find it to my taste
and pass my time creatively.
I could not sit and watch T.V
and live my life vicariously.
That would drive me to insanity.
I have a wide vocabulary
which I love to exercise
Harmless but it amuses me.
What better way to pass the time
than writing formal poetry
I do not find it hard to rhyme
I’ll never be a household name
Which does not bother me at all.
I write for fun and not for fame.
My writing will not make me rich
I very rarely publish it
I merely write to scratch my itch.
My pad and pen accompany me
No matter where I choose to go
Though I scribble illegibly.
Record what takes my interest
and jot down anything I see.
When I get home I do my best.
To read the jottings I have made
which is sometimes difficult
as pencilled words tend to fade.
I find that if I persevere
for long enough I understand
enough to make it very clear.
I sometimes wish that I could write
In a clear and cursive script
If I had perhaps I might.
But I am too impatient to write
All of down the things I want to
My scribbling will have to do.
Thank God for printers and P.Cs
So when I post its legible
and you can read my verse with ease.
The feed back which you give to me.
I read with greatest interest.
And it improves my poetry.
My hand writing will never be
capable of being read
by anybody else but me..
(18-Jun-07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Alankar(Decor) -71
The Passionate Nuisance(Pantoum) -
a Malay verse form consisting of an indefinite
number of quatrains with the second and fourth lines
of each quatrain repeated as the first and third lines
of the following one.Permissible, but less common, to use the L1 and L3
of the 1st quatrain in the same order as
originally written to end the poem with L3 of the 1st quatrain.
Rhyme Scheme: abab bcbc cdcd dede eaea
'I feel fatigued, I want to stop writing'
No sooner than I felt so, just born next
A spark tempting me not to stop writing
Between my mind and my heart a conflict
No sooner than I felt so, just born next
A pantoum to twist me tangled of lines
Between my mind and my heart a conflict
Many times twisting me tangled of lines
A pantoum to twist me tangled of lines
Never I thought I would be caught in one
Many times twisting me tangled of lines
Just help me come out well o'my dear one
Never I thought I would be caught in one
What a passionate nuisance you are dear
Just help me come out well o'my dear one
Do not break my heart to cry o' my dear
What a passionate nuissance you are dear
A spark tempting me not to stop writing
Do not break my heart to cry o' my dear
'I feel fatigued, I want to stop writing'
poem by Indira Renganathan
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