Poem Preceding Time
Poetry paves the heart's compassionate path
signals alarming the soul of coming return
ultimate creative force resonating from
the heart of existence
nature, architecture
geometry, magic, medicine
technology and science
laughter, song
silence, stillness
all movement
all sound
love, humor, everyday happenings
world news, music, politics
beauty, truth, tragedies, lies
myth, immortality, heartbreak and epic triumph
risings, fallings,
struggles and sufferings
reality, dream
light and darkness
conscious realms in between
the shared cry of
humanity and god
the poem written
preceding time
captures all
poetry spoken in every language
known in every world
communication life line of the soul
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Related quotes
Poetry is? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
What is poetry is like asking,
'Why is the sky blue? '
There is no answer to What or Why?
but, in any event,
I shall try.
Poetry flows from my heart through my pen,
down through
its neb,
Like a fly struggling in the web of a spider, waiting
to be free.
What is poetry-who knows-could be as simple as the
morning dew on a rose,
children’s laughter,
a baby’s cry,
a mother crooning a lullaby,
bells chiming loud and clear,
the voices
of those that we hold dear.
Poetry is the language of the soul
It gives us the courage to afford life’s many streams
It expands our horizons to realize our dreams.
To summarize the above
Poetry is the Language of Love
Poetry is the Language of the Soul
Poetry is the Language of Life
over which we have
no control.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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Poetry is Everywhere
To all my friends who say –
Poetry is not my cup of tea,
I’d strongly recommend that
they watch “Dead Poet’s Society”.
Poetry is in your cup of tea,
poetry is in every wave of the sea,
poetry is in the song of a bird
poetry springs forth from each of your word.
Poetry is in the smile of a baby,
poetry is in the redness of a ruby,
poetry is the union of your heart and mind
poetry teaches you to be soft and kind.
Poetry is the song of your soul,
poetry reminds you of your life’s goal,
poetry is in a game of cricket,
poetry is in the sound of a cricket.
Imagine life without poetry -
What an empty life it would be!
Imagine a world without poetry -
What a dull place it would be!
09 June 2010
! 2: 50 pm
poem by Gita Ashok
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18 Definitions Of Poetry
1) Poetry is what is Beautiful in words –
2) Poetry is the deepest feeling words can tell
3) Poetry is the soul of each one of us
4) Poetry is the morning light after the longest night
5) Poetry is a dream of dreams in a world that needs dreams to be
beautiful
6) Poetry is the Search for God and the Love of God in all holy writing
7) Poetry is Reality itself when it is doing what it should
8) Poetry is you and me and all of us when we are kind to each other
9) Poetry is more than we can say or know- deeper than the deepest
silence and quieter also
10) Poetry is the place we go to in ourselves when we need to cry out loud
11) Poetry is Love words of love and the first spring of the young lovers first
song
12) Poetry is all we are when our minds are right and strong
13) Poetry is what saves us from all the other words
14) Poetry is what ceases to exist when Cruelty comes
15) Poetry is Love and Blessing and Kindness again
16) Poetry cuts through the icy sea within and sends chills down the spine
17) Poetry is what is recollected in tranquility but also tried and tossed in
tempest on the most difficult seas
18) Poetry is open to more than what it has been It is what others have not yet created and will so long as we are human and in search of the Sublime
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Was A Poem About Poetry
THERE WAS A POEM ABOUT POETRY
There was a poem about poetry
Written by a poet whose name was hidden within the lines-
The poem about poetry
Became a song in the night
And a distant metaphor
For the incomprehensible journey that is life-
It became anything it could be made to be-
Love,
A world of a kind,
A mystery,
The holy sounds of light far far away -
All the poems we know are like this,
In the darkness they say one thing
But in the light in the light
Oh how dark and deep and far and lonely they are-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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What Poetry Mean To Me
What does poetry mean to me
Poetry is the air I breathe
Poetry is the words that feed
My soul
To make me whole
Poetry is what makes me blossom
In the middle of spring
Poetry is what grows my garden
And makes it flourish with nature
Beauty
Poetry Is
My magical whim's that supply all my
Fantasy and fills my hopes and dreams
Poetry is the strong desire that keep the
Flames of love burning
In the midst of the hour
And lights up the sky
With beautiful hues of colours
Spreads from one globe to
Another
To swim the ocean deep
Just because of love
Poetry is that and more, which I
Hate to carry this on and on
But
Poetry is the love of our life that visit
Us in our dreams
Poetry is
Me and the worlds that wakes every
Morning to bloom and blossom
Even after the death has played it last
Song that breaks our hearts
Poetry is tears and moans
Grief and pain that Hunt's the
Soul
Poetry is the rain crying from
The sky
The sun the moon with the golden
Light
Poetry is a child laughter at play
The tears a child shreds in sadness
They cry
Poetry is just a book of songs you
And I write down in our journal
Each and every day
We
Mix them together again and again
That is poetry
Poetry is life woes
Life happiness
Poetry is life
Here now and after
Poetry is you and I
poem by Carolyn Sears
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Of Poetry
Of poetry, beautiful is the name,
For my heart has manufactured its claim
Of words that adjusted it to flame.
Of poetry, wonderful is the power,
For my heart has blossomed like the light flower
With rosiness it arranges in shower.
Of poetry, tremendous is the peak,
For my heart through and through its beat did speak
Of profoundness that boosted it to tweak.
Of poetry, creative is the work
For my heart, in thought imagery did lurk.
Along inspiration, up it did perk.
Of poetry, heavenly is the joy,
For my heart smelt it like a baby boy
Of whiteness who does with glee to employ.
Of poetry, authentic is the life,
For my heart has acquired truth that is rife,
Decent in harmony to free it from strife.
Of poetry, intimate is the food,
For my heart to be lightened with high mood,
Be nutrified in a circumstance good.
Of poetry, radiant is the light,
For my heart got the view of sunshine bright,
It ascended up to the sky in flight.
Of poetry, elating is the drink,
For my heart towards merriment to link
Ever so aeonian to it to think
Of poetry, delightful is the sound,
For my heart to its music rich, is bound.
Bliss of paradise that soared in is found.
Of poetry, passionate is the love,
For my heart comports mildly like the dove
Shining with a lot of warm light above.
poem by Obinna Kenechukwu Eruchie
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Songs Of Poetry
Poetry is the wave
drenching the sea-shore!
Sea-gull hovering overhead!
Poetry is lilack
Poetry is lily
Poetry is rose
Poetry is cherry!
Poetry tears down the cheek
liquidated in joy!
liquidated in grief!
Poetry consoles the soul!
As glass of sherry!
Poetry draws the out-line
....the cosmos forms!
Poetry paints the blue
....the sky performs!
Poetry waves the desire
...love sings along!
Poetry paves the way
....makes us strong!
Poetry dreams and cry
....erases wrong!
poem by Suvra Bhattacharya
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Poetry of Art or Art of Poetry?
Which came first-poetry or art?
Which of these two is my favorite part?
Poetry speaks to the heart and soul
Through vocalization of written word,
While art molds and shapes formation
Of heart and soul once the poetic art
Of words moves to the shape the heart
Feels inspires visualization and creation
Of such dramatic, deep impact as art
Makes responsive to the poetry that
Inspires it.
Does poetry not speak of art and
Art of poetry?
Each of these takes the form
Of a smiling simile.
Art is the extension of visual beauty,
Words unspoken
As extensively connected as the
Heartfelt extension indepth beauty
Stimulates out of spoken words
Poetry admires and inspires
Deep down in the soul.
Art reflects poetic expression
Poetry visualizes mentally
While are visualizes physically-
Both of which visualize emotionally
When mutually expressed and impressed
Upon each other to create the beauty
That first created it.
poem by Bill Darrah
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Just IS! (for Gina)
Because you are
the way you are
I love you
just the way
you is.
*******
JUST IS
Poetry is shadow
dancing with light.
Poetry is paper
longing to become voice.
Poetry is musical notation
turning into sound.
Poetry is a world
that is flat
becoming round.
Poetry is the longed for kiss
that’s going to happen
but hasn’t happened
just as yet.
Poetry is the kiss
you’d miss
if it wasn’t
there.
Poetry is falling in love
with sound and language
(you can’t have one without the other)
and being happily married
to its sixth sense
Poetry
Poetry
...just is.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Egoism of Poets
We don’t write poetry,
Poetry writes us.
How can we make poetry,
If we are part of poetry.
The world around us is poetry.
Poetry is already defined.
Calling ourselves poets.
Selfishness in every line.
Egoism in every word.
Stealing poetry from the world.
That already exists in every form.
It’s written in every mist,
Every tree, every bliss.
Who are we to write?
Calling ourselves masterminds.
Trapping ourselves in believe
That we are creating something unique
The world at our feet.
Just too full fill our need.
Even this poem is an act
of a selfish deed.
Every letter in ink.
Created through love and sin.
Writing on a paper
But it’s the world’s skin.
Pressing on the surface.
To see blue blood is our purpose.
Thinking poetry is ours.
Poetry devoured
By poets every hour.
Poems all around us.
Turning grey to dust.
Turning brown to rust.
We have captured the most
But there is still so much.
Bleeding away in disaster, poverty
And war.
Ink to us all.
A poet’s only lord.
His only norm, his only home.
His precious and beloved poem.
We should be ashamed.
poem by Nadim Lost Soul
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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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A Big Or Brief Poetry......!
Big or brief, what is poetry?
Poetry is......
Creating beauty out of blemish,
Making order out of disorder,
Producing meaning out of musical words,
Creating Universal truth out of trivialities,
Arranging points out of less known facts!
Is poetry just making rhythm and rhyme
Without meaning, life, force and taste,
Without free flowing musical words,
Without words of music, beauty, fun?
Poetry is free flowing river of words
With full of images, lively and lovely,
Transporting from this world to that world
Forgetting himself and readers here!
Just end rhyme is not enough to make it so;
Internal rhymes make music in rhythm
Making all enjoy music, meaning and ideas!
Poetry is the medium to say complex things
Not possible to say in other forms of language,
Saying unknown things using known things;
It is sound, substance, message and meaning!
And many more matters to many men in the world!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Poetry Is
poetry is what the soul wants
poetry is infinite sound that taunts
poetry is strength of ones spirit
poetry is the powerful truth within it
poetry is love and hate
poetry is what makes you stop wait and appreciate
poetry is something you should die for
poetry is what makes you dropp to the floor
poetry is put up randomly
poetry is, well, simply poetry
poem by Daniel Romero
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If The Poem Is Written Against The Silence Of Where Nothing Happens
IF THE POEM IS WRITTEN AGAINST THE SILENCE OF WHERE NOTHING HAPPENS
If the poem is written against the silence of where nothing happens
And aims to find a way to make life sing of meaning
But instead finds itself turning only on its own author's pain
Then what is the use of it all?
Let Poetry too go lie in its own grave
And rest in silence
With all the billions of human voices
And endless words which have sought beauty and greatness and fame and honor and love
And now must lie silent forever as if they never were-
Poetry too can like all its authors die
And if the human light goes out
Rest in darkness forever as if it never were.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Hear Within Myself The Greater Lines Of Others
I HEAR WITHIN MYSELF THE GREATER LINES OF OTHERS
I hear within myself the greater lines of others-
I began to write ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud’
I thought ‘Continuous as the stars that shine and twinkle on the Milky Way’
I felt ‘When you are old and grey and full of sleep’
I thought again ‘Doth God exact day – labor light denied? ”
I felt in my soul ‘Ah love let us be true to one another For the world which lies before us like a land of dreams ‘
Inside me I heard ‘The world is filled with the grandeur of God’
Time after time I repeated ‘O cursed spite that ever I was born to set it right’-
All in me is poetry more than my own
‘Oh to be in England, now that April’s here’
'Oh wild west wind thou breath of autumn's being'
I do not know how to stop the lines -
More in me than myself is the Poetry of others
And where I begin must end a greater Beauty not my own-
Oh Poem Oh Poetry Oh Poets of the Past
Oh Light of the world greater than my own small light-
Oh singing in the wilderness a song not my own
Oh much more than I can ever be
Others’ Poetry.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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To a fellow poet
What can I give you –
for only giving can I think of,
in this dark season of the year
which needs no festive name, to name the need…
this dark season, when hearts yearn
for all that’s bright, and warm, and love..
what can I give you, at this time?
I give you – music… music, heard
outside the heart’s dark winter door
to say, that all’s not lost; all’s never lost;
there’s music still and always, through the door…
you’ll hear, and know yourself to be that all…
I give you – laughter… laughter, on the face
of strangers, as you open that dark door;
strangers who laughing turn to you
and share their laughter and a proffered hand;
a room of laughter shared with you, illusions laughed away…
As poet gives to poet, these I give you;
they are – but poetry;
as poetry, may live.
*
[occasioned by discussion of ‘the three persons’ in poetry:
the confessional poetry of ‘I’;
the poetry that speaks and gives to ‘you’;
and the poetry of he, she, it, they – of universal truth..]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Making Poetry
Why did I make a poem?
It's more than you can imagine
It's not about black or white
Because the power of poetry that I'm dumbfounded
Look at the whole Bible, everything is poetry {not, but a holy book down from Allah is the truth}
Abstract ideas of science are all from the poem
Idealism actual human life is poetry
I'm just trying to be honest...
Creating poetry for me is more than anything
Not me want to be Jesus or Muhammad {but imitate their pious}
But I do not know what my purpose {paradise}
Only the most important is to produce poetry
I just write from the unreal world
Introduce something to people here
Are they willing to accept it or not does not matter
Since the poetry of the poem is the image of eternity
Who continue to fly and only revealed to the seeker
Poetry for me is more important than life
More important than my beloved
More important than my brother
Because the poem can represent any
Why did I make a poem?
When you reject the poem in your life
It has a form of poem to poem
Actually you can not escape from poetry
But you did not realize it, be aware of?
Indeed the poem is really real
Do you not believe how strong poetry
Look at all the countries in the world today
All poems must have an ideology
Ideology of all States is poetry
Do you still deny its power?
From now on, deep down consider
The poem is more than just blank words without the influence
(30 April 2002)
poem by Irvan Hermawan Saichu
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The sound of music.......
The sound of music gives us so much emotions
and that plays a melody deep in our heart greatly
All the sound on the earth are like music
and the music brings love and enjoyment to our life
Music expresses universal language of the world
and brings people together where ever they live
The music is the best gift of God to all of us
where its fills our soul with peace and mind with creativity
Every music has its own rhythm
and it's creates a great sound of music
Music in the mountain brings peace in our heart
and music in the ocean fills our soul with love
When I hear the sound of music
then I begin to write a song as a soul of music
If you don't love the sound of music
then your soul will be unsung
Because music can put life in to a dead man
Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka
Copyright @2006 Ravi Sathasivam
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Poetry Is The Language Of Our Deepest Feeling
POETRY IS THE LANGUAGE OF OUR DEEPEST FEELING
Poetry is the language of our deepest feeling
It makes Beauty even of our Darkness
And shares with others our Light.
Without Poetry we would be less in life-
With it,
The inner anguish the soaring of the soul
Our real lives whatever they may be-
Find Meaning in Expression..
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Poetry Unlimited
Poetry is looking,
at a flower and,
seeing the beauty
hidden within.
Poetry is bringing
out love, deep in
your heart, telling
your love one how you feel.
Poetry is feeling
a cool breeze
as you lie in an open
field, so deep in thought.
Poetry is seeing
the beauty of soft
fluffy white clouds
as no one else does.
Poetry is hearing
sounds of nature
soaking it all in
to mind and soul.
Poetry is watching and
standing by river's edge
seeing rippling water
flowing to places unknown.
Poetry is gazing at
rolling hills stretching
as far, as the eye
can see.
Poetry is digging
deep into inter feelings
bringing it out
and exposing it.
Poetry is love
Poetry is feelings
Poetry is seeing
Poetry is what you are.