The poets contrive
I have nothing to complain for, not even of one
I am thankful for all, conceived in mind, to stun
it is because my garden blooms, and soul strives
and my ancestors salute from their distant lives
Memories visit me and mostly make me care,
they turn the key of remembrances on my door,
and I accept their oddity of call. Maybe I enroll
a frivolous romantic, on this supercilious stare.
People claim their life, was a tragedy! My God
what a falsehood to live upon! A baited fishing rod
to catch me in their transient support of riddance,
I laugh, as there is no mercy in their cold glance
I 've seen poets! Yes, noble, mysterious souls
with words to kiss a remote heart, a boat's tholes
supporting our rowing oars of efforts. A caress
explaining the bliss of a Naiad or curse of an Ogress.
Their face is next to a window, a frown of thinking,
as they watch the finishing ends, as dusk is sinking,
our shadows exit to the streets, from our boats berth
I care for that verse of still, poets contrive or death?
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Poets Contrive
[Poets contrive]
I have nothing to complain for, not even one
I am thankful to all, conceived are, to stun
because my garden blooms, and soul strives
and my ancestors salute from their distant lives
Memories visit me and mostly make me care,
they turn the key of remembrances on my door,
and I accept their oddity of call. So I enroll
a frivolous romantic, in my memories flare.
People claim their life, was a tragedy! My God
what a falsehood to live upon! A baited fishing rod
to catch me in their support of riddance,
I laugh, as there is no mercy in their cold glance
I 've seen poets! Yes, noble, mysterious souls
with words to kiss a remote heart, a boat's tholes,
supporting our rowing oars of efforts. To express
the bliss of a Naiad or curse of an Ogress.
Their face is next to a window, a frown of thinking,
as they watch darkening ends, as dusk is sinking,
our shadows exit to the streets, from boats berths
I care for that verse of still, poets contrive or death?
Copyright ® G. V.04.06.2011 / 27068955
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Poets and Bad Poets
Some poets get awards and think they are good poets.
Some poets never get awards and think they are bad poets.
Some poets think they are good poets only in their own mind
Some poets think they are bad poets in somebody's else mind.
Some poets think they are good poets in somebody else mind.
Some poets think others think they are good poets but they don't in their hearts.
Some poets think they are good poets in their hearts but not in anyone else's mind.
All are insecure, except those who get security from the opinions of others and that, alas, doesn't last and isn't real.
Some poets have left the entire scene and live only in their mind.
Some poets take criticism and don't mind.
Some poets avoid criticism and do mind.
Some poets write poetry to get love.
Some poets love to write poetry.
Some poets are ahead of their time, in their mind
Some poets spend a lifetime feeling like failures in their mind
Some poets live only after they die.
Some poets have much to say but can't articulate
Some poets retreat, believing others don't understand
So which one of these am I?
I guess I am all of these and none of these
and no matter what my description
I intend to keep doing what I do:
Write. Right
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Pavers Of Life
I must make a trip to London
and walk on the pavers of life.
I must feel the death of the poets
that endured the mental strife
of not enough time to ink the page,
for death came early during that age.
I must feel their messages in my mind
and experience the force of words
coursing through my body, my soul
and in my heart like a thousand birds.
For I feel the call to reconnect
and praise these poets with respect.
For poets live in the hearts of men
and paint pictures over and again
with eloquent phrases one by one
filling their pages until they're done.
I must make a trip to London
from whence my journey had begun.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Pass The Jam
I don't care
They're crazy
Said pass the jam, would you
Awfully kind of you
Now wouldn't it be a little bit nice to sing with this
Gazing at the open door
Just what lays behind
Thinking what I'm looking for
Say what's on my mind
Sinking ever deeper
In the words of guilt of shame
And now I can redeem myself
I just don't care
The words I'm singing they're just right
That's better for my brain
If I try to make much sense
You know I'll go insane
I just don't care
I just don't care
Stay and have some jam with tea
But Brutus wasn't kind
Wasn't strawberries that were red
He wasn't cutting bread
You pass the jam
And so he slammed the tea
?????? here to me
Was in the conservatory
Yeah, alright
Yes, but still over there
Sinking ever deeper
In the words of guilt and shame
I can redeem myself
I just don't care
Staring at the silver spoon
Take it from your mouth
Take it from the chapter
Turn and face the south
Now face the north
And the east
And the west
And the ?serpent song?
Still burning on in the night
Where's the sun at midnight
Say it's gone
Where's the moon at dawn
It carries on and on
It never ends
To the land of nevermore
Where time began
Where the man still stands
And the ??'x'?? at the end
Never know that I sang
You'll all know it's the right place
In time, well it is
The words I'm singing
That's just right
They're better for my brain
If I try to make much sense
You know I'll go insane
-a
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hunting or Fishing?
Hunting or fishing – which is better?
That is what I am thinking about!
In business many hunt for customers;
Some men prefer casting net to catch fish!
Even for poets the position is the same
In poetry websites to catch readers!
Some lay wise traps to catch readers!
I use fishing rod with a needle and bait
To catch readers who can understand!
Whether the rank is high or low it is
Immaterial but the true comment is!
Hunting readers to comment and rank
Or fishing readers to comment and rank
Are not really going to enhance one’s status;
For, voluntary comments are indeed valuable!
Poets are jealous to appreciate others’ merit
But some poets raise the status of others!
So, letters to such poets increase sans end!
This is the status of poetry websites now!
So, it is left to you to hunt or fish or lay trap
As you wish to catch readers for rank, etc.!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Life is not worth
Did someone say life is not worth to live?
Without dishonest means it is difficult to survive?
Not possible or any steps to revive,
So forget about means and connive,
Why to worry when everybody live same way,
Why I concentrate more and attention pay,
Why I care in matters where I have no say?
So simply I differ and uncaringly lay,
Why to worry about another world,
When no one has seen it and definite word,
All fear about Almighty with praying O, lord,
I can stand aloof in corner and afford,
Neither do I wish to swim together,
Nor do I care to sink and bother,
I search the ways for happiness further,
Can any one say my efforts may wither?
I still firmly believe in efforts,
All ships may not land in ports,
Nothing can succeed without any support,
Not with blessing alone or prayers report,
With smooth sailing there is no problem,
With sinking of ship passing only blame,
Why not we think and share also claim?
This is not my way of thinking and not the aim,
I think life is beautiful and thousand times worth,
No blame games and no ideas forth,
Success or failure face of the both,
Only we fail to see in cloth.
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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My Heart's Window
If I will love you, can you soothe all my sorrow
Can you erase doubts and fears that I have
Can you catch all tears falling from my eyes
Will you open the window of my heart
Will you wrap me by the magic of your love
And bind me under the shades of your comfort
Will you show me the beauty of this world
Once you unlocked the window of my heart.
If you can open the window of my heart,
Will you hold and hug me very tight
Will you kiss me to feel the warm of your lips
Can you take care and save my soul tonight
How blissful maybe to stay, to live beside you
How romantic maybe to make love with you
However, all of these things I can only know
Once you unlocked my heart's window.
poem by Catherine Agunat
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For All The Poets
FOR ALL THE POETS
This is a poem for all the poets who have no name,
For all those who have written and failed,
And for those who have not written,
And failed.
This is a poem for all the poets who dreamed themselves poets,
And were never, and will be known as poets
To the world.
This a poem for all those
Who after years of effort
Still live in an oblivion
They will die in.
This is a poem for all those
Who whether they have poetry in them or not,
Will never be heard or read,
For what their hearts must tell
Someone else.
This is a poem for all the silent poets
Those who live in silence
And whose silence is eternal
For all those whose only poetry
is the poem they have lived within themselves.
This is a poem for all those who would- be poets
And a poem for those
Who despite their efforts
Did not make their poem known.
This is a poem which may be for you,
And I know is for me
A confession
To make us less alone.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Why People Become Poets Poets Dreams
have you ever wondered why people become poets?
poets have been around since the beginning of time
and they have been mostly men, speaking of their loves, life
and emotions.
famous love stories, plays, movies, all seen thru a poets eyes.
just as the centuries have gone by and everything in life has changed
so have the poets.
there is now as many and if not more female poets
than male poets. why? because they are more sensitive to emotions
and are not afraid to show or speak of it, unlike men who want to
show the 'MACHO MAN IMAGE'
poets see life thru different eyes for different situations
and write about it in so many forms, and see the light and
the darkness in everything, including the good and bad.
it may be just one word, or a line, or verse
that enters their mind to start creating
what will become a poem,
what is the poets dream that you will create?
a love story, a sad story, one of fear or hate, or passion
one of beauty, or war.
so many things to choose from- but it doesn’t matter
what you may choose, you must take the first step.
just as reading this is the first step to start on your way to writing poetry
and opening up your mind and soul.
touching other people and receiving comments
and feedback on your writings will help you to improve
on your weak areas.
some people do it because they are looking for fortune and fame
while others want to communicate with others, and others
just to see their names on something other than
a bill being paid.
poem by Louis Rams
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Fishing Boats
Weathered boards on the old dock
Sun trying to peak thru
The water like a sublime dream
Seagulls circle the boats
You were there with your humor
With your easy going smile
You loved to take people fishing
Soon I will go into memory
The waters will always laugh
Lakes, rivers and sea
Poetry of the tides
Campfires and moonlight
Old man and the sea
Get the net I gotta big one!
Your fishing boat in the dusk
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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O, death
O death, come and grip
We shall not weep
Miss you always but not skip
As you are there to pick
We know our limitations
Every thing ends with relations
The moment soul is taken away
Body remains here to give the way
The candle light goes off swiftly
With little air from window rightly
No one blames air or wind
The death does the role of blind
“I am prepared to go anytime”
Many may boldly assert sometimes
Yet the fear grips mind at last moment
Curse the whole life and lament
God has made cycle for renewal
Old goes and new cries on arrival
Cry is same but with difference
Compels us to think sometimes
Only brave smiles at its knock
As he is prepared before lasts stock
Both hands towards sky
Eyes shine as soul prepared to fly
At no stage it may stop
There may be enough of stop gap
One may endure more or less
The noble leading may prove the case
Smile at the last leg of journey
You are leaving behind treasure and money
All relatives may feel sad not at you
But what is left behind for them to view
They may want their share
But in your life time may not dare
They may silently watch your departure and stare
Enough of attention towards your treatment and care
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Who to blame for writers block?
Risen up from his cold dark tomb
the malevolent poet is alive again
his evil master has given him power
to confuse poets and bring them pain.
He's invisible to the poets eye
and he doesn't make a sound
his mission is to bring writers block
to all poets everywhere around.
The unaware poet stares at a blank screen
unable to create one single verse
the satanic force takes over his mind
his thoughts go from bad to worse.
The romantic poet thinks about death
his thoughts no longer on love and light
he wants to write about misery and war
and things that go bump in the night.
So the next time you can't write a poem
and your sitting there full of despair
you now know it's not you who's at fault
but it's the evil poet and he's over there!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Oh These Poets And Their Sounds
OH THESE POETS AND THEIR SOUNDS
Oh these poets and their sounds
Their distant rhythms
Which take your soul away-
Oh these poets and their sounds
And the longing to be
One of them-
Oh this poet
And all his cry of loneliness-
Oh these poets and their sounds,
And he in his own small voice
Crying out lonely words
Before his own lonely page.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Poets, Oh! Poets awake awake and face the world!
Life is bright and a pleasure to enjoy!
And above how nice to see the moon light!
Love is without blemishes and bliss in life!
Poets lie; lie more as much as you can!
Always write the positive traits
And suppress the negative, is it your habit
Or consciously do you do, to flinch the reality?
How do you get pleasure living in falsehood?
Life may be bright and but it has darkness inside
Which can't be overlooked, the moon has a spot
Love is a lust tick which sucks blood.
Poets play happy, happy game as much as you can!
But reality is truth, truth is the more reality
Make believe is a fairy tale lies only in the dream
When you awake it breaks in thousand pieces
Poets, oh! Poets awake, awake and face the world,
As it is! It is more beautiful and more truth in it.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Call Me My Love
I invite your form amid the deck winds,
I hear your voice up in clouds to delve,
'hold me my love as tidal waves engulf,
and gray dusk descends on ripe fields.'
In our lightless home a coldness casts,
shapes of time laugh near the hearth,
much a void resembles above my berth,
your eyes' stare at my departing masts.
A faint call as I stand upon the bridge,
alludes to me melodious words to ravel,
'call me my love out my sadden garden,
when sun sets, behind a distant ridge.'
'Call when streams oppose your routes,
with sacred love and bonds I 'll regale,
when winds my words carry to gunwale,
transform my verses to notes of flutes.'
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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God's Poets A Good Poem & Love
GOD'S POETS
The prize jewels of any nation
Are the philosophers of the heart.
How they think is universal
For it's God who makes them so smart.
Most poets tell the truth of life
Though they may wrap it in beauty.
It's their passion, not their purpose
To compose is but their duty.
Poets have no reason to lie
When the truth is always so clear.
All that others say and do
Is but food for the poet's ear.
One merit of a poet's work
Which most cannot deny.
They say more and in fewer words
To illuminate you and I.
God sent His poets down to earth
With words of wisdom and of worth.
That they might touch the souls of men
And bring them back to Him again.
A GOOD POEM
A good poem paints a picture
For both your heart and brain.
It doesn't need a second chance
To make its meaning plain.
A good poem is like the flower
The lily or the rose.
God plants it in a poet's brain
And there its beauty grows.
A good poem like a cardinal
Is pregnant with song
You can't help but hear its message
As it sings what's right or wrong.
A good poem helps us remember
What the joys of life are for
It makes us want to love someone
Till death comes knocking at our door.
Let There Be Hope
Boats afloat,
across an ocean moat
Sailing away,
a tyrants torment
With joyous rapture,
T'ward a life content.
rickety, leaking boat
Let there be hope.
Boats of hope,
human tragedy afloat
Sailing away,
a homelands fear
On terrorful waves
Closer now, sanctuary near.
listing, ailing boat,
Let there be hope.
Boats without hope,
Human misery, afloat
Sailing away,
from a life content
With sorrow filled hearts.
recapitulated, now their torment.
Scuttled, sinking boat,
let there be hope.
Boats nae float,
beneath an ocean moat
Sailing away,
a savior of deception
An islands hopeless souls
shattered dreams of redemption.
Fractured, sunken boat
let there be hope.
Stop the boats afloat,
across an ocean moat
Sailing t'ward,
asylum signed veracious
People who pride, 'fair go '
ah, but leaders are mendacious.
Rickety, Leaking Shattered Boat
please, let there be hope.
poem by Phil Charters
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Poetry
To those of you who've never read poems
there is a vacancy in your homes.
For poets dream
and poets scream
words that should be said
and never left dead.
They speak of love in artful wonder
and even love that's torn asunder.
They tell the stories that affect the people.
Their hopes, their fears,
the ageing years
their laughing times,
their weeping tears.
Poetry has its own special flow.
If you've never read it you don't know
its magic with word
not silent but heard.
To evoke in the mind
something you find
with rhythm and cadences
allowing your senses
to come alive.
Alive.
Most poets are quiet except with their pen.
They become quite vociferous especially when
conveying to you what they deem to be true.
For poets are sensitive
to all they see.
They speak from the heart
and hope to be
inspirational, controversial
to awaken in you
a picture or image
for your mind to view.
Poems are music and praise for the soul
that hungers and thirsts
for you to become whole.
All of the poets who've come and gone
have left their thoughts and then moved on,
moved on to pursue loftier goals
accompanied by words to soothe their souls.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I Don't Care Anymore
Well you can tell ev'ryone I'm a down disgrace
So drag my name all over the place.
I don't care anymore. (I don't care)
You can tell ev'rybody 'bout the state I'm in
You won't catch me crying 'cos I just can't win.
I don't care anymore I don't care anymore
I don't care what you say
I don't play the same games you play.
'Cos I've been talking to the people that you call your friends
And it seems to me there's a means to and end.
They don't care anymore. (they don't care)
And as for me I can sit here and bide my time
I got nothing to lose if I speak my mind.
I don't care anymore I don't care no more
I don't care what you say
We never played by the same rules anyway.
I won't be there anymore
Get out of my way
Let me by
I got better things to do with my time
I don't care anymore I don't care anymore
I don't care anymore I don't care anymore
Well, I don't care now what you say (I don't care what you say)
'Cos ev'ry day (everyday)
I'm feeling fine with myself (I'm feeling fine with myself)
And I don't care now what you say (I don't care what you say)
Hey I'll do alright by myself (I'll be alright by myself)
I don't care (I don't care) anymore (anymore)
I don't care (I don't care) anymore (anymore)
I don't care (I don't care) anymore (anymore)
I don't care anymore
Do you care? Hell no!
Do you care? Hell no!
Do you care? Hell no!
What what?
Do you care? Hell no!
Do you care? Hell no!
Do you care? Hell no!
What what?
Do you care? Hell no!
Do you care? Hell no!
Do you care? Hell no!
What what?
Do you care? Hell no!
Do you care? Hell no!
Do you care? Hell no!
What what?
'Cos I remember all the times I tried so hard
And you laughed in my face 'cos ya held all the cards.
I don't care anymore.
And I really ain't bothered what you think of me
'Cos all I want of you is just a let me be.
I don't care anymore
Did you hear? I don't care no more
I don't care what you say
I never did believe you much anyway.
We won't be there any more
So get out of our way.
Let us by
We got better things to do with our time
We don't care anymore
We don't care anymore
We don't care anymore
We don't care anymore
We don't care
We don't care
We don't care (anymore)
We don't care
song performed by by Kelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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SHADOWS OF AUTUMN {A Poet's Dream}
Shadows that haunt me in autumn
Memories of colours lost to winter
The Douglas Fir......forever green
Keeps the forests from the barren
and desolate winter...
Shadows tail the whispered winds
November's fickle breeze....snaps
Fresh images, for the Poet's mind
Reclusive me, i write my stories in
silent attitude...
Shadows that vision harvests death
Tips of golden leaves, turn to brown
Morning dew is masked in first-frost
I watch it all, by a window, in a room
of Donne and Poe...
All i need is my paper...and isolation
To feed by yen, for the abstract buffet
I bother no one..... harbour no secrets
I'm about words 'n tales from the dark
side of fiction...
For a Poet i am not- and will never be
Poet's paint a canvass, of open doors
Into the passions 'n perils of their lives
And they do it oh so well...'tis God-Gift
Still i write.....
And, the shadows of Autumn, haunt me
They scream and bleed poetic promise
Like the gold that Robert Frost inspired
While captured, in the autumn shadows
of a Poets dream...
(September 1st,2007)
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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