400th Mark
Completion of 400th poem was not great feat or mark
Many new ideas flashed in mind and worked as spark
Raising voice at roof top doesn’t make it worth while
No one will share ideas or walk with you for a mile
Over year and half ago I was virtually nothing
Only vague ideas of verses to translate as something
There was hidden fear that readers may reject
Still presentation of new ideas was only object
Nature was appealing when I went round
Something new was in offing and always found
Bird’s sweet voice and cool breeze were appealing
Mind was set up on it with earnest effort for revealing
It was so difficult to go in for poetic words
Sought the strength and blessings from the lord
World at large seemed so big and enterprising
Nothing could stop me from little writing
“Go to hell” or “never dare to call again”
Funny comments with abusive words main
I detested the weapon with its sharp edge
My be I lacked enough skill or knowledge
Many offered me with their kind comments
Advised to stand fast and not to lament
How can I be ungrateful to their advices?
I had to offer gratitude and only promises
Some one commented I was killing poems
Had no teeth, wisdom and lacked rhythms
I sincerely thanked them to improve upon
To write simple poems and simply carry on
New people, thoughts with old or new readers
They were by no means less than leaders
I was novice and had to act as learners
To gain and part with is the reality for beginners
I have followed simple theme and plot
It may not be up to mark or falling short
I may try to uphold values and ideas defend
Will not stoop so below to alienate or offend
How poetry does impresses up on mind?
What type of lessons or new things we find?
Poetry, I thought is the holiest approach among all
I enjoy its fruit when sit back and recall
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Being A Poet
I find that I can compose a poem best,
When I am out walking, or am at rest.
When I am lying in my bed at night,
I think about what I am able to write.
Or when I’m out walking, or sat on a train,
Words and ideas, all rush round my brain.
Sometimes, ideas just appear in my head,
Or may be a result of something I’ve read.
At fellow passengers, on a train, I take a look;
Some chatter away, while others read a book.
But, me, I’m sat there, quietly composing verse;
With dozens of ideas, my creative mind bursts.
If I compose lines on my way into town,
I repeat them over, until I write them down;
If they are not written down straightaway,
Around my mind, other thoughts then play.
There are many things which inspire me to write,
Such as animals, the seasons, and the sky at night.
If I try to force ideas, they just do not flow;
The poem itself, I find, just will not grow.
I like to write on a layperson’s level;
In too much information, I do not revel.
Having chosen a decent subject or idea,
I then need to get my brain in to gear.
Of a subject, I like to consider all of the aspects,
But I keep my writing simple; not too complex.
To make a poem rhyme, words I may change,
But I only use words that are within my range.
In using unfamiliar words, I can see no point;
A nice poem, tricky words, can really disjoint.
Words, within my head, I keep batting around,
Until the perfect combination, is finally found.
With poetry, I really love the creative process,
But over time, I’ve become slightly obsessed.
Sometimes I find myself talking in rhyme;
That I am a poet, this must be a sure sign.
Of my finished poems, I often feel proud;
One day, I’ll be brave and read them aloud.
Into my swirling head, ideas continue to pop;
I love writing poetry and never want to stop!
poem by Angela Wybrow

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How poems emerge
When passion gets settled down
Gives birth of poem and of its own
It is expression from the heart
You can term it real feeing and art
What are we discussing today?
About poor test and forceful way
What poets are writing today and chase?
Few short lines for readers to guess
First of all it has nothing to do with poems
Nothing comes in head as pure and nice themes
And even if it comes then it is very vague
All threads are to be tied and traced
It will be unnatural to think of breeze in afternoon
No ideas may creep in mind and supplement soon
When I start thinking of hot after noon
Then there may appear cool evening with bright moon
I shall observe each cool nights with changing horizon
Movement of stars and diminishing their shine for moon
I may think of giving more weightage to shining object
Thus reducing the importance of stars of their brave act
Well, poems are all about this struggle
They simply not come without trouble
They will openly clash with set themes
All earlier ideas may be lost or put into flames
I may not give up that easily for simple reason
It is natural law and so change the seasons
Why should I not change the theme from time to time?
It may click and help for the race sometimes
I have made several pages of rough preparation
They have fairly come to the help in relation
I thought poetry is not all about writing on pages
It is out come of natural thoughts coming with age
Thoughts must travel with speed of light
It must bring back all ideas in sight
Then it must flow in orderly manner at one go
In same manner as calm waters of river naturally flow
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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1. One
I am trying to find my poetic rhythm.
Pen my flow of thoughts.
Words running through my mind,
Ideas running through my mind.
Incoherent, Scattered and disjointed
I am trying to make words and ideas one
Create a world of words, in this world of chaos
Words running from one end
Ideas running from one end
On a path of collision
Ideas and words unite, one
One, the beginning
One, the universal beginning
One, the number of the gods
One, my first poem
poem by Anand Dixit

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The Written Word Rules!
At the idea of poetry, some people seem to scoff,
As they consider it is an art form only for toffs.
They may think that the concept of poetry is boring,
And that it will leave them fast asleep and snoring.
There are all types of poems: modern and classical.
There’s something for everyone: it’s not boring at all.
The lyrics of songs are poems as such;
They often rhyme together very much.
People like to sing along with their favourite songs,
So why does the concept of poetry feel so wrong?
I’ve only started writing poetry in the last few weeks,
And, I have to admit that I thought it was just for geeks.
But, now I can see, that whoever you are,
Everyone has the potential to go really far.
I have to admit, I much prefer
The written, to the spoken word.
At night, I lay awake tossing and turning in bed,
With random thoughts running through my head.
By my pillow, I keep a pen and note pad,
To jot down any thoughts, which I’ve had.
At the top of the page, my thoughts I jot,
And I always plan out a really rough plot.
I like to include words which have a nice ring.
Words, like these, into my poetry, I like to bring.
I continually go through the alphabet time after time,
Searching for useful words which, pretty much, rhyme.
In simple terms, my ideas, I always like to express;
Complicated and fancy words, my mind doesn’t posses.
I’m sat here, writing this poem, on a speeding train,
As thought after thought, floods into my brain.
I’m writing notes on a mini pocket timetable,
In any tiny blank space which is available.
In my handbag, I’ve got no pad, but I’ve got a pen;
My scribbled notes, I just hope I can comprehend.
I really must start carrying a notepad everywhere;
To forget all these thoughts I’ve had, I couldn’t bear.
When I’m thinking of ideas, I just can’t relax;
My mind seems to buzz to the absolute max.
I’m not far now from my final destination,
And the train is due to pull into the station.
On this subject, there’s not much more to be said,
So, I’m now putting this poem well and truly to bed.
poem by Angela Wybrow

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An ideas to reflect
There is abolutely nothing in mind
When I sit on key board for new ideas to find
No writing pad, no views and no feed backs
Some ideas just flash in mind and crack
I don’t know what does it represent
They may be lack vision with sharpness absent
But it is beautiful words formation to be sent
It is in harmony with mind set and never to repent
It is not the simple theory or views to inject
It may not find favor and raders may reject
It will me met with some crtical comments
But in fact it is nice to generate such movement
Readers are just mirror and reflect
It might have forced them to delete
Over all it is to be unique idea to select the theme
Wha is object to or what is praised stays as supreme?
How does poet’s talent come on surface?
It need not be lost in mad race
It has become now a open competition
No one looks backward and asks for revision
The ideas are well received and praised
Some times controvery is racked or raised
Generally speaking it is widely recognized
The platform is well received and organized
How does black stone is lying in earth?
The poets are there and ther is not dearth
Some good polishing and some incentive
They can prove spokesperson and real representative
They may prove fit, unfit or can be misfit
They will not dare for mistakes to repeat
They will certainly work for social uplift
There is absolutely no doubt or rift
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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Poems with difference
How does the imagination strike the mind?
Does the brain allow them place to find?
Why they are termed as crazy and dreamy persons?
Does this statement find any favour with reasons?
May be poetic appetite does not allow them to grasp?
Appeal in wordings may not be enough to last
It is as if some is asked to under go test and take medicine
Feeling good inwardly but with bitter test of quinine
We may see enough water available in pot
Put to test while making it very hot
It may turn into vapor beyond certain point
Poetry is also like vapour………………..
Ideas may suddenly emerge in sequence
Mind may pick up and build it as consequence
How to project it rightly may prove as acid test
It may be looked as fine blend of poetry and best
Somebody may try it hard on words skill
Many may stuff it with metaphors and fill
Single sentence may now bear different look
Golden sentences may appear in costly book
Nature, heavenly bodies and earth simply provide
Kind of message, love and passion does not divide
Humanity survives with strengthening of the bonds
Poetic wisdom is stored like enough water in ponds
Easy words, fine presentation and theme crate impact
Love, passion, generosity improve with certain contacts
Poems can rule the hearts with immediate healing touch
Pulse can be felt as if it has enough power to offer so much
Poems can be those who can touch millions and rule
Lessen their worries and react with mind so cool
Poet Kalidasa* was novice and considered as fool
His poems are master pieces without help from any school
Rule the heart, touch the nerve and excel in field
Tremendous response and enough skill to yield
The desirable effect may be seen in poetic world
There may not be going back after developing cold
Poems must find the light of the day
Many may side line you and keep at the bay
You got to sail through and find the way
Stars and sky will be yours with more to say
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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All Embracing Poetry!
What kind of poetry does engage all complete?
Only love between man and woman in romance?
Only beauty of Nature in all its splendour forever?
Only philosophic ideas enriched in poems ever?
Only journalism, philosophy and poem altogether?
Only spiritual ideas of God or Universe in a new way?
So many questions crop up every day to find one
Poetry that will absorb all forever and enrich mind!
Have anyone discovered such poetry so far...?
Divinity present in Nature kindling romance of
Love of high state of mind perhaps may do so ever!
Comprising of all ingredients I try often to create
Poetry of an irresistible kind for all to consume ever!
Journalism, philosophy and poem in one I feel better!
poem by Ramesh T A

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At Times I Have
At times I have happy ideas,
Ideas suddenly happy, in among ideas
And the words in which they naturally shake free...
After writing, I read...
What made me write that?
Where have I been to find that?
Where did that come to me from? It is better than me...
Shall we have been, in the world, at the most, pen and ink
With which somebody writes properly what we here jot?...
poem by Fernando Pessoa from The Collected Poems of Álvaro de Campos (1934)

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Entry
“Welcome to our new world family”
Words sounded me good and not silly
It created deep impact on mind
I though of gesture to be nice and kind
New entrants will find it very difficult
New environment with different cult
Readers, friends, pattern also new
May be new approach was definitely due
How to speak about one’s mind?
People may not take it lightly and turn eyes blind
It may be possible they may not accept and rescind
Still it has to be honest attempt and way to find
I cut joke and call self as Jadia or fat
May not go in ground to play cricket with bat
At the most they may cut joke and hate
I have no reason to feel amused and state
I have always felt that jokes are good medicines
As disease disappear after taking vaccines
Jokes and loud laugh make blood to rush in vanes
Fresh air and wind make trees to bend in by lanes
Does the honesty pay in the long run?
Can anything be extracted at the point of gun?
What role does the comments and feed back play?
Beautiful ideas to float and make it relay
I may love to be part of large community
It will have its impact and continuity
New concept, ideas may find the real place
Right place and recognition without any race
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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My Mind Always Turning
My mind is like a jet,
ideas I have, hidden away,
not thought of yet.
My mind keeps going, going, fast as a train,
only at rest stops, do I wait
my thoughts, are simple and plain,
of poetry, do I love
sitting down at my desk,
floating along, like a dove
to survive, and to live,
the words shall flow
and to the world, I will give
Modern poetry
What do you witness in modern poetry?
Does it represent sentiments of any country?
Do fond actual spirit missing and has evaporated?
It seems mind is bogged down and perforated,
No reflection of nature, snow clad mountains in poems?
Not concrete views on subjects and lack proper themes,
Short size of lines and left to readers for views
Read out as Para or commentary in news
No curse or regret in words for any message
Be silent spectator and clear smooth way for passage
Our poetic soul has died long back,
We write artificially as if standing on jack,
We have completely lost faith in system around,
We are back to the square one nothing new is found
limitation in expression of ideas and are not found suitable or sound
People do not appreciate as it has lost the ground,
Has the level of writing gone up or we leg behind?
Does the nature has lost its charm and nothing new find
Forests are depleted and wild animals has lost cover
what is left in nature is simply to imagine over?
Ozone layer is depleting and glaciers are sliding
Air is completely polluted and we are minding
Rivers are added with affluent discharge,
there is health hazard and risk is looming large
What to write in modern poems?
Where is inspiration with good theme?
Who has the time to spare for nature?
We are concerned with only future
How come old themes are rich with heritage?
Why do they not fall under class vintage/
They still inspire us in our daily routine
Lot many ways to be explored and put in
How our ancestors could write great epics?
There were tragic events including comics
Every part so interwoven with delicate presentation
Still we prefer it to be put in our quotation
Love epics are down with limited object
Suicides and downing in river is the only subject
News papers are full of robbery and murders
Little we offer as solace and only murmur
Death as horrified subject is only to be covered
Its impact is only to be lowered
What else we can offer in present day of living?
We must go deep for analytical study with forced diving
What message we carry for the masses?
No one has to worry and make passes
we are the real voice for any uprising
Only passion should be aroused for rising
Still we have so much to offer
Subject same but opinions differ,
Message should be simple but has to be widely read
Mass appeal for love and peace but not hatred
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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An Idea
An Idea can change the world, how many
things can be done from an idea, every piece
of object was an idea, sense the beginning of
time idea was the first thought created in the
mind, an idea is what surround’s every being.
But an idea is still only an idea and it can't be
felt, you cannot touch an idea or kiss it, or hold it,
ideas do not bleed or feel pain or love, an idea
cannot be seen or heard, its created in our thoughts,
but then again an idea can become real. An idea
can be what ever you which it to be, an idea can
be destructive, an idea can be brilliant, I've seen
people get killed in the name of ideas, ideas,
we walk around with a little
light bulb blinking in our thoughts, ideas.
poem by Elenushka Toledo

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The Magic Of Words
I admit to never having read much poetry before,
But now that I’ve started, I’m eager to read more.
I’ve discovered many poems, ones old and new;
There are all sorts: happy ones and sad ones to.
Some poems paint a picture, and are descriptive in their style.
While some are humorous, and are designed to make you smile.
There are also narrative style poems, such as the ‘Goblin Market’ story,
By Christina Rossetti, there are close to five hundred lines, in all their glory.
Alliteration always sounds extremely catchy and really rather nice –
When an initial consonant is sounded, in quick succession, at least twice.
Assonance also often comes in quite handy too,
Especially when the rhyme isn’t quite exactly true.
The addition of onomatopoeia can be a real whiz,
Adding sounds like Crash! Bang! Pop! And Fizz!
I love poems which have a regular rhythm, and which rhyme,
And I try my best to incorporate these factors into poems of mine.
In rhythm and rhyme, myself, I like to try and immerse,
As I have to admit that I’m not a particular fan of free verse.
With poetry, I’m really beginning to get a little bit obsessed.
I change words around, trying to see how they sound the best.
I like to keep my writing quite simple, not complex;
I hate it when words and ideas complicate the text.
I love it when words paint a picture in my inner mind;
When a masterpiece is created, as snapshots are combined.
My mind finds it difficult to process ideas which are too abstract;
I just like simple descriptions and a smattering of interesting facts.
Unless I understand the first few lines, I can get very easily bored,
And from then on, reading the rest of it can become quite a chore.
I’m not keen on poems which, I consider, are way too short,
As they probably haven’t really required that much thought,
And, likewise, I’m not keen on poems which, for me, are too long,
As reading them, can feel like running a twenty six mile marathon.
If I see a word in a poem which I have not previously seen,
I will look it up in a dictionary, to see exactly what it means.
I always enjoy learning the meaning of the odd new word,
But I hate it when there are many, of which, I’ve never heard.
I also like to look words up in a thesaurus to learn,
If I can swap them for an alternative word or term.
Reading and writing poetry can be a real education in themselves.
You pick up books which may have previously been left on the shelf.
If you’re sat concentrating on reading or writing,
Temporary release from problems, is quite inviting.
It can have a very calming affect upon your soul,
When life’s worries and woes have taken their toll.
I don’t know if I’m just going through a phase, or if my obsession will last;
Over the last few months or so, I really have been having an absolute blast!
I’ve felt proud of some of my works - I didn’t think I could do such things,
And I’ve really revelled in the happiness, into my life, which poetry brings.
poem by Angela Wybrow

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Ideas
Some of my best ideas come
When I least expect them
When I am without a pen to jot them down
I try to keep them in memory
But they become blurred
They become disjointed and lost
Consigned to frustration
Wanting to remember that spark
Which lit my mind into life
I sometimes find a segment of them
Those ideas which come to me
And fashion something out
Only it never looks right
It doesn’t have the feel I’d like
I guess some things are not to be
I guess I keep talking
Hoping I’d stumble across them
Some of my best ideas come
Then I least expect them
What I have learnt in my short life
Its always good to carry a pen
poem by Matthew Holloway

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The Power of Ideas
The power of ideas are immeasurable
They are the hidden treasures which lies
Deep within each and everyone of us
When we take the time to mind them we will find
That they are more precious than diamonds
Ideas which may seem insignificant
Has tremendous power within them
They are the genesis the initiation the foundation
Of all invention and everything which
Is created by humankind
The power of ideas are immeasurable
They have got the power to move mountains
To overcome any obstacle and to make
The seemingly impossible possible
Ideas are the levers which moves and the axis
On which the world revolves
The power of ideas are immeasurable
The power of ideas...
poem by Anthony Shurland Phillander

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Mood
What can be termed as mood?
Can that be called conducive for good?
Situation may not take you out of wood
You may not even like or prefer food
It is perfect condition to emit ideas
Nothing will be heard even good pleas
Good melody may also fall to deaf ears
Perfection may take longer or even years
Mind may set in and take complete rest
Emergence of constructive but thoughts best
Some times may prove hard or acid test
Right time to strike, write and paste
Don’t attempt when nothing appeals
Thoughts may cross and ideas repeal
Allow normal function with gate closed
Gradual entry with no more ideas forced
It is like child demanding toy
Nothing will convince even if you employ
Good alternatives with submitting to demands
Even if you threaten with severe remands
Childish play with funny acts
Got to know with basic facts
Simply arranging with current scene
Facts to be reflected as never before seen
Poets are whimsical and funny
Care not for any more penny
It is simple presentation of views
May not head to any more clues
It is not magic or creating words
Simple notes and looking too forwards
It may not have head and tales
Poets are many as sea have whales
Poets may create new concept and waves
Beautiful ideas which may produce heroes and braves
It may not be drive powerful wagon
Certainly a sharp and double edged weapon
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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After All Hymn
After all I am human
And I get mad sometimes
Sometimes it is hard for me to think of something else in
Order to get rid of my anger
But I think I have to replace it with poetry
Poetry is my life
And I live writing poetry
Is poetry just a scribbling that doesn't make sense?
No
Poetry are feelings that are wrtten on a piece of paper or in the computer Scream
Poetry makes sense because every word I carefully select
And there are other words that might pop out of my mind
That I connect with the words in my heart
Do I use strong words in my poetry?
Yes I use strong words
Do I offend my readers with the words I pick?
That Is something that I try not to do
AAafter all
I am human and I do make mistakes
But after I make mistakes I try to move to the next step so I never get Stuck with my mistake
Yes poetry is my voice that is a message that I am trying hard to give to My readers
There are so many different styles of poetry
Haiku, rhiming, and free style
But I always stick with the free style of poetry
I find that it is the style that sooths me just fine
After all
I try very hard to live a modest life that is very plain and simple
From the one I lived 16 years ago
What is wrong to live a life of luxury to me?
First I need to have the money to live a luxurious life
The second part is that I don't want anything to do with a luxurious life
Because I am happy living my simple life
And I hope to live that simple life forever
I want to have dreams only and I don't wish them to turn into reality in My Life
Because I know that my dreams will be dreams
No I can't sell my dreams
Because my dreams are only fantasies that I face every night when I sleep In my bed
And after all I will always be human
poem by Aldo Kraas

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Books won't stay banned. They won't burn. Ideas won't go to jail. In the long run of history, the censor and the inquisitor have always lost. The only sure weapon against bad ideas is better ideas. The source of better ideas is wisdom. The surest path to wisdom is a liberal education.
quote by Alfred Whitney

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Expressing God
God talks to me when I write,
letting me know through wisdom and sight.
The sight to observe and be consciously aware,
to express through writing what I can share.
Share thoughts on life and nature’s mystery,
put ideas and beliefs to pen for all to see.
The truth and laws of the universe,
three dimensional life is a blessing, not a curse.
Being a change agent by writing poems,
poems that might inspire people
while reading at home.
Maybe I will some day know,
That poetry writing is worth all
it’s weight in gold.
Written by Christina Sunrise on September 23,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise

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Browsing and Commenting on Poems.
It is my habit to read the poems
delivered by the young and old, male and female.
I pick up the poems by title and not by the authors.
Internet helps us to browse and comment on poems,
burst into by the poets from all the continents.
I read, chew and digest the new words, usage,
and the content in the poems. The young guys,
baffle me with colloquial, archaic and email forms
like gonna, wanna, u, and so on.
The youths write poems on love with inspiration
but old people have to perspire or be resilient
going back to school and college days.
If I murmur the tune of some melodious film song,
I find it possible to scribble on love-lorn life.
I am very weak in English manners of saying thanks
and expecting thanks for the comments made on poems.
The voracious readers of poems won't stop criticising
if we contribute touching poems or message giving lines.
The comments at times inspire me with new ideas and subjects.
If our lines comfort some hurt hearts,
guide some to ride the life with peace and hope,
that is enough for the mad people like us.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah

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