En.Citatepedia^®.ro

A pen can

How poet can be useful to world family on large scale
He is floating in sea like big creature and called whale
The giant creature has long sea lines but to surface for fresh intake of air
The condition for poet too remains same to prove his class as fair

Lot many ideas emerge and assume the shape of poems
Hi sown soul melts to take true form as root stems
It may try to scale popularity height with class of gems
Some may be appreciated with distinct class and framed

It is life time work and has to find the way to reach all over
It must be backed by real enthusiasm with protective cover
It should never happen that poets are starving for the want of encouragement
There should be left no room for excuses or arguments

Many poets die of hunger and face poverty beyond imagination line
They are unable to meet two ends and can’t properly dine
It is greatest tragedy never heard of but it stands fine
The poet has his own taste of creations and serves as wine

He may have his own fantasy and world to live in
He may try to be part of glove as always has been
He has the obligation to remain fully alive to the situation
He has the purpose in life for constant flow with continuation

The world can’t be won over by wars alone
It can’t be wiped out by devastating force like cyclone
World has witnessed humanity crime during world war
What we are today is pursued and constantly asked for?

Limited assault or surprise attack may yield some quick result
The humanity may suffer and face the unbearable insult
How to assuage the feeling of wounded and instill the confidence?
It is not one time exception that can be termed as simple incidence

World needs exemplary and stable and durable order
No goal should remain of tall order or shorter
It has to have reality in it and to be realized by all
It must be responded by all sections as emergency call

The poet can sharpen the writings with infusion of his skill
It may have killer’s instinct but no malign intent to kill
It may have long impact with far reaching consequences
The powerful states can see through reasons in its presence

It is pen that is mightier than any other lethal weapon
It can forewarn of any struggle that may be called upon
World has witnessed many bloody wars and revolutions
It has still not found satisfactory answers or solutions

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Not The Poet's Poet But Perhaps The Would- Be- Poet's Would-Be Poet

I AM NOT THE POET’S POET BUT PERHAPS THE WOULD- BE- POETS WOULD – BE –POET

I am not the poet’s poet-
The one poets of name and fame admire-
But perhaps the would- be- poets would be – poet-
Who tries to be a poet
And tries to understand what it means
To love poetry and live by writing it
Even when the world does not recognize me..
.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Years of hard struggle

It takes years of hard struggle
To survive in this competitive jungle
Everybody adore some position and smile
Some of the flowers have to stand alone for while

Who will notice them in wilderness?
Who will grant them togetherness?
They have to gain position for survival
No one may make the way for their arrival

Some one may up by their natural presence
They will be noticed easily by their absence
Everybody may miss rose and its color
Even though others may have good smell and odor

Poets are like “touch me not” and may not seek
Some may prefer to shy away and feel very weak
They want to put their presence on big scale
But small fishes are swallowed by big whale

How many turtle eggs survive in race?
Not many I suppose on rough face
Yet they march to race on for long time
I think over it silently sometimes

So every species has distinct feature
They are recognized and identified for sure
But where is the coming up of infant poets?
Have they been pushed to remain quiet?

This is toughest race in world
You can rule it with hot temper or cold
No sentiments or pure imagery may come to rescue
The highest slot is reserved for only few

The poet is beautiful animal with no horns
If he is passing on road people may warn
May give some piece of advice for ugly show
As he may unaware of self but in hurry to go

Poets are generally termed or knows as whimsical
Their tone may be literary and little musical
On stage they may put different and powerful show
The powerful oratory may excel like river water flow

Hardly few people may know about his existence
That too will be known on somebody’s insistence
The creative work may remain confined to golden books
As beautiful and testy food will not be enjoyed by cooks

I wish poets to have small horns
Small species not to be touched and warned
Let them groom in some unrestricted area
Not to beg to any body and making unnecessary plea

Let us create enough space and free air
Let them breathe in and find means very fair
Let them not bogged down in word jugglery
How the elephant looks giant with ivory?

I wish it not to happen
It comes to them one by one
Everybody has events in turn
How best can we offer in return?

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem about Poetry - what is not poetry

writing lines
not like a child
writing lines
robotlike
hitting at keys
rather than own heart
writing lines
throwing words
which are yet
our friends
words picked
from thesaurus
dictionaries
for word's sake
an alley of prostitutes
we treat as our wives
godless
writing as if
the world
possesses
no soul and
god, the real poet
who spares symbols
for his creation
trees, lightning,
thunder
for poets
to colour their world
to see the other side
of the world
how the trees, lightning
thunder
are a part of men
themselves
described,
the trees - spring of youth
lightning - rage
thunder - warning
the warming effect
god's verse to men's uncaring verse
misinterpretation of his symbols
god the leading poet
the world a repository of symbols
for his masterpiece
a masterpiece
we could only admire
the real poet leaves us
something to ponder about
and to add a verse or two
to his work
like the almighty poet
who when he likes
answers us back
in riddles

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poet Writes Of Poems And Poets And Poetry

THE POET WRITES OF POEMS AND POETS AND POETRY

The poet writes of poems and poets and poetry,
And the world goes by
And nothing is done.

And the sky- the sky.
Is it still above?
And Love and Kindness
Are they still deep in us,
Words or not?

Without Poetry the world does not exist for the poet-
But for others,
Dreams have other names,
And Music plays on,
And singing and laughter
Go on as the Beauty of Light.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Welcome To The World

Welcome to the world
A world of many worlds
A world of no sympathy
Neither do it has empathy
A world of much struggle
Without which there is no survival.

A world of wine and spirit'
Destroys mind and spirit.
Addiction and self control
Either etiquette or respect
A world of oscillations, from bars,
To behind bars.

A world of sexual immorality
Enjoyment that never last
The effect of body lust
Irresponsible reproductions
Murders through abortions
Spread of killer diseases
A grave to many youths.

World of idleness
Indolent behavior
A friend to many losers
The mother to poverty
Crime and disrespect to everyone
Claiming early retirement
From the world of struggle
To a world unknown to the living

A world of hard work and determination
The way to a better destination
A world of world class recognition
A world desired by all generation'
A world of realizing dreams and visions.

poem by Marbet Daniel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sad good bye

I decide to stop posting
On "Muse India" with silent protest
As articles go unnoticed or unread
A sign of ungratefulness to the dead

May be poems are not up to standard
For which they may be considering as sub-standard
I am what I am and can never be changed
For poet, it is unbearable and must be well managed

I have often aired my grievance
On number of occasions and not once
It is shame for the poet not to have been heard
He can not be left behind without being read

It is not the question of forcing the readers
They are well judged and well read leaders
What can be read and what can be neglected remains their domain
I am ordinary poet so concern definitely remains

Even birds change nest when their existence is threatened
With a heavy heart to think of "no return"
Yet it is long association that pinches heart
Otherwise life is full of uncertainties and must find good start

I migrate to green world where I hope to settle
It may be possible there I will be among herds of cattle
Yet it is literary thrust that compels me to think on those terms
I shall have time to move in new world with no rich return

I thank to all who have helped me to encourage
Not to loose heart despite being outraged
The stage actor may definitely want little claps
Else it may called an visible insult amounting to slap

I shall endeavor to extend my support
To all those whom I consider needs good rapport
Little words of appreciation for their creative work
I must remain on their side without offering a jerk

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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World as family

“Vasudhev katumkam”
On this concept world keeps mum
Its broad meaning of world as one
Who can deny it ………….?

Whole world is my family“
Does this word seem silly?
It may not realize it early
Everybody must think it honestly

It is not dreamt with blurred vision
World at large may benefit from its conversion
It is not mere a concept of globalization
In broad term it is thought rationalization

Why is it necessary to talk about world order?
Where we can dream of no barrier or border
What an unarmed movement of people can alter?
Will it not alleviate the sufferings of the poor|?

Think of people exchanging simple hello
World may not seem to them as hollow
If they share happiness, joy and grief
World may remain so large and need no brief

Colour, cast. Creed and jealousy may disappear
People may come closer and agony bear
Love, peace, harmony may be seen and heard
Open blue sky with freedom as birds

Let there be flow of clean air
No discrimination and treatment fair
Humanity at large may mushroom and grow
Friendship River may wash the bank and flow

It is not holistic ideas but an eventual reality
We may not realize its importance and futility
If this can be made as virtual possibility
World may not shirk fast as probability

Let us resolve and think of it as noble view
Sit together and make realistic review
We may not have time to watch our action
Humanity may suffer on account of reaction

God sent us in complete free world
As an infant we did not witness hot or cold
We believed what we were made to observe
Should we not expect better world and deserve?

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry and Poet

Poetry is poet's inner world,
Churnings of Self in distinct words;
Poetry is not black and white,
Grey, nuances of diverse hues
In kaleidoscopic word-networks
That capture all formless clouds
In the deep sky of the poet's world.

Poetry is poet's outer world,
His expressions in proper norms;
Bare thoughts, his rogue fights within
Dressed well for the popular nod;
Poet's world, a messy snake-pit,
A burrow of rats, snakes, insects,
Fighting to spring in riotous words,
Filter'd for world in elegant words.

Poetry is never a judgement,
Sheer whispers from heart to heart
Beyond what words do transport;
Words in lilt and dance, poetry,
Links they bond, cadence they ring,
Makes a poetry, a true poetry,
A mirror of poet's inner turmoils,
His hopes and strengths in right words,
Indecisions he suffer, his deeper Self.

Poetry is release from inner cauldron,
Steams from within in guise of words,
Quiet flames of the inner hearth
That flared for long finding a vent;
Poetry, a relief, a joy of sharing,
Sharing the Self with the world outside,
Back to the source from where all came;
Poet is the priest, poetry, his hymns,
Offered to the world for peace and grace.

Poetry sprouts from the morass of soul
And grows out of poet like pipal tree
And outstays him;
Fleeting is poet, but not his poems,
Poetry is the poet universalised;
It sucks his thoughts, sucks his force,
Spreads outwards to enrich the world
And leaves the poet richer and strong
Like fire and good deeds always are,
How much you share, so richer you are.

poem by Praveen Kumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kind of Confusion

Talent, as we call and refer, as an instinct
Valuable gift from God and very distinct
No one can compare it with anyone
It is rarely seen with someone

It is seen and observed for the kids
We can certain assume and have the lead
You can clearly distinguish and read
You need no certificate or any kind of feed

Yet you go to prove it before experts
When you face the world class of arts
Everyone will have to prove class and ability
They will know better and praise the quality

People may put you o prove skill
It may drain you out and kill
With single thought that you are worthless
And has no dedication or courage to face

Such things can not be denied
Certain hopes are grounded or bellied
Basic facts can not be denied
Yes hope and despair is definitely accompanied

One may come out with flying colors
His ability and strength is proved and adored
He has now everything ready to explore
He can add feather in cap and ask for more

There is no end to our ambition
These are the basic inhibitions
We are ambitious and over zealots
But certainly not the fool or idiots

One will have to prove the superiority
Life can not be stagnated and must move on with continuity
There should not remain any kind of confusion
Life is live race and must be seen as compulsion

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I write...

How badly a poet feels when his articles go unread?
Get no cooperation from fellow poets for further lead
How narrow interest has shadowed the real talent?
Old poets did so much but today we can only resent

There may be many reasons and probably the time factor
Who has the time to come out in and see the moon in sector?
The moon, stars, and sky have permanence in feature
So nothing to look at them as they don't make our future

What do we find when look at some of the creations?
Lot of confusion with innumerable questions
I find hard going with concept and logic behind
Even so much eagerness on their part but approach very unkind

I blame none but changing scenes
No one can exactly predict and prefer to be seen
Even though they may be interested and very keen
The confinement nature hunts mind or appears to have been

Poet may go on writing but may not find favor
Not that those articles are bad or find no natural flavor
Still some of the poets may go out of the way and appreciate
This gesture somewhat appears to be managing and relate

I would love if little time is spared for emerging poets
They come with full force but find no favor and then remain quiet
It is like river flow in monsoon when in spate
Nothing is sure about and left everything to fate

If stage is decorated for the performance of the artists
And find is no audience to clap each one among the lists
Then no one may dare and ever attempt for another show
The movement comes to standstill and restricts the flow

The creations may certainly find favor if not day then tomorrow
Yet mind should not disturbed and released free or allowed
There is substance in it and it may pull magnetic way
Sun may shine again and find the promising rays

I write with no reservation or wait for applaud
The work itself may speak in volume and very loud
Ears may refuse to believe when one day you may find surprises
The world may clap over your achievements and suddenly rise

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poet I Am', And 'The Poet I Am Not

The poet I am, and the poet I am not

‘The poet I am’ says
To ‘the poet I am not’,
‘Why can’t I be more like you? ’
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Because you are not good enough’
And ‘the poet I am’ begins to cry,
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Real poets cry for more meaningful things’
And ‘the poet I am’ says ‘I am who I am and what I will be means so much to me. But still I am not the poet I wanted to be’.
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Exactly. Were you less concerned with who you are and more concerned with others you might be a bit more of a poet than you are now.’
And ‘the poet I am’ is silent.
And ‘the poet I am not’is somewhere else being someone else
That ‘the poet I am and the poet I am not’ cannot see or dream.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thoughts and Theme

I feel startled and ashamed
When come across such thoughts and theme
Where poet expresses defeatist view
Venture into field and express which is not due

What loss world may suffer if you commit suicide?
How would you face people when unable to hide?
Think of futile bid you make and escape unhurt?
Let that energy be stored in corner and not revert

Why there is sea change in concept?
I have witnessed downward trend and wept
We are responsible for creating new world order
Create tension free world for people living across the borders

'The thing of beauty is joy for ever' still rings in ears
It has not changed its power and theme over the years
Love is eternal and may not change till the centuries
It may even create nice feelings in the heart of adversaries

Let us build new bridge over which people can move
Love each other and give no room for conduct to prove
It is heart burn topic and needs careful orientation
Love is to feel and to be felt with its sacred relation

I may go with all those who care least for cast and religion
Love can be no different across the borders or in any of the regions
Lovely and beautiful eyes may speak each and every word
Invite you to fall in love with eyes downwards and look forward

Let all the poets air their beautiful voice
With new concept and tall order promises
World has remained so much beautiful to live
Let us have faith in it and firmly believe

Even God has taken pride in taking birth
They had enjoyed the unbearable life with fear of death
It was only to create love with all possible means
Let us change the hearts and may certainly and possibly win

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poet Can

Why a poet can not remain in crowded place?
Catch the pulse of an ordinary man in race
See the drops his labor inform of sweat
How much he struggles to meet ends and eat

There is valid point in conceding
We all need nice feeding
Every moment of great surprise
To grow day by day and feel wise

Humanity breathes in open and shows the class
We just don’t observe it and make casual pass
We find it irrelevant and out dated concept
But makes it so sentimental when openly wept

We hardly move without aim
It has mechanical aspirations to claim
Life is taken as mere compulsion
To be pulled on with or without resumption

Here comes a stage when you want real eruption
Your ideas to come out from heart with assumption
You need some one to read and come out with its consumption
Two words of appreciation and encouragement without disruption

So stage for natural poet is set
It has nothing to do with any kind of stage
Lonely or among people makes no sense
Yes but nature makes easy flow of sentences

Natural poet belongs to all and considers his duty
In red rose he finds fragrance with simple beauty
Flowers catch his fancy and enlighten imagination
How many things come up for revelation?

In morning shadows are just normal in size
They grow short by the time noon seize
Hot sun makes poet to take refuge under shed
Evenings are forcing him to pack up and lead

Nights bring all silvery lines in mind
Beautiful moon at its zenith is very kind
All birds are now quiet and in the nest
Only poet is awake and tries his best

I would love to call him a free bird
As well receiver of lord’s word
Only aim is to spread the lovely message
Whether as boy, youth or in the old age

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Apart

A part of this world I open my eyes and breathe...
Apart of this world I wonder what they think of me on Facebook
A part of this world I laugh at how beautiful everyone is...
Apart of this world I check to see who likes my comments
A part of this world I live in the brilliant orgasm of now...
Apart of this world I lay down some anonymous hate as Guest42
A part of this world I sigh at the joke of separation
Apart of this world I struggle to connect to someone worth it
A part of this world I smile at every pretty girl...
Apart of this world I smile at the pretty girls
A part of this world I am very close, closer than comfort...
Apart of this world I feel so very far away and so alone

poem by Poet Dragon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Letter To A Young Poet Revised

Letter to a young Poet

Dear Raman, so you want me to read your poem and state my opinion.
Well, you are fond of words and you are stacking them up in your poem.
That is a good thing; clearly you are a man who reads a lot.
So you want to be a poet, poetry is self indulgent pass time it doesn’t
change anything, no one reads it, other than cranky people. Should
a poet writes something nationalistic that resonance with, a nation’s
pride, like: “my country is the best in the world.” He will get a medal.

So why don’t you become an engineer or failing that, a cook. The world
doesn’t need, anymore academic poets who forever repeat what poets
of yore have said. For the common man a poet is regarded as a figure of
fun who spends valuable time putting useless words together to make
sense of a world he doesn’t understand. As my father said, when my first
poem was published: “How much did they pay you? ” If my words have
not scared you off, you’re a poet. The only tool you’ll need is honesty.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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Poet not to remain

It is essence of poet not to remain quiet
Even though may not have knowledge considered to be basic
The thoughts and images must reach to the masses
As they may have enough of it to read in classes

The flower may not know what fragrance it has
There might not be awareness yesterday as it was
Still there may be bright tomorrow to celebrate
It may be simple try by poet to project and narrate

The poets are called crazy and thought driven
They do not bother for their appearance even
They eat whatever they get and stay wherever they are
The world is so close to them and not very far

They are part of each living object
They accept it in mind and never reject
They try to feel natural belongingness
And it is there as gift to feel oneness

Not all can feel the impulse of nature
Not all can see the well being of future
Only few can breathe with it and survive
They make it perfect and try to revive

It requires third eye to feel the real soul
You may witness it casually and not as whole
You get hurt when something wrong is done to nature
You express sorrow when over apathy to cure

Not that people are cruel and less sentimental
They may be part of bad set up and very much instrumental
Yet poet is different from others and feels grieved
He has the noble soul and her words are respected and believed

Everybody may be passing through critical phase
There may be mad race and long chase
Yet there may be enough of reasonability in approach
Poet may try to project but not attempt to teach or preach

Some of them may be called nationalist
Some one may be well known as futurists
Some may come out as strong supporters of the liberty
Some may prove very good at prayers of almighty

It is not that only poets do great service
People from many walks of life also suffice
Their contribution is well known and of very good standard
It is the basis for which to go ahead and look forward

But the rainbow can only be seen in poetic heart
By little appearance of natural beauty it will simply start
It will pen beautiful words to please old and young alike
Not all the ideas may occur to all or strike

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poet not to remain quiet

It is essence of poet not to remain quiet
Even though may not have knowledge considered to be basic
The thoughts and images must reach to the masses
As they may have enough of it to read in classes

The flower may not know what fragrance it has
There might not be awareness yesterday as it was
Still there may be bright tomorrow to celebrate
It may be simple try by poet to project and narrate

The poets are called crazy and thought driven
They do not bother for their appearance even
They eat whatever they get and stay wherever they are
The world is so close to them and not very far

They are part of each living object
They accept it in mind and never reject
They try to feel natural belongingness
And it is there as gift to feel oneness

Not all can feel the impulse of nature
Not all can see the well being of future
Only few can breathe with it and survive
They make it perfect and try to revive

It requires third eye to feel the real soul
You may witness it casually and not as whole
You get hurt when something wrong is done to nature
You express sorrow when over apathy to cure

Not that people are cruel and less sentimental
They may be part of bad set up and very much instrumental
Yet poet is different from others and feels grieved
He has the noble soul and her words are respected and believed

Everybody may be passing through critical phase
There may be mad race and long chase
Yet there may be enough of reasonability in approach
Poet may try to project but not attempt to teach or preach

Some of them may be called nationalist
Some one may be well known as futurists
Some may come out as strong supporters of the liberty
Some may prove very good at prayers of almighty

It is not that only poets do great service
People from many walks of life also suffice
Their contribution is well known and of very good standard
It is the basis for which to go ahead and look forward

But the rainbow can only be seen in poetic heart
By little appearance of natural beauty it will simply start
It will pen beautiful words to please old and young alike
Not all the ideas may occur to all or strike

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In A Fair World

I cannot empathize with the poor since I'm not in poverty
And I can only imagine how miserable life must be
For those who go to sleep hungry they live with death each day
In a fair World this would not be it would be fair to say.

In a fair World this would not be but all in life's not fair
And thousands are in poverty for every millionaire
In third World Countries every year millions of hunger die
The crops don't grow in rain starved lands, the parched earth far too dry.

In a fair World there would be enough food to go around
And not one hungry person in the whole World to be found
But there is only hunger where poverty reside
And the gap between the haves and have nots has never been so wide.

In a fair World there would not be want and need and very little crime
But the social gap keeps widening despite the march of time
And I who have never lived in the slums or in a third World Land
What it feels like to be really poor could never understand.

poem by Francis Duggan
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I am chained

I am slave and chained
My hands are tightened
Mouth is sealed and eyes blinded
World has seen it but never minded

Since years I am under occupation
Children and their mothers suffer sans relation
Looses daily one soul forever
Still world has no time to care ever

Any time the artificial line is drawn
Curfew is imposed and shutters are down
Siren raids are on and life is shattered
Life is turning from bad to worst and remains scattered

Is this the price my kids may have to pay?
The world may silently watch and have nothing to say?
Alright I shall bleed some more
Let them see me in tears furthermore

How can youth control their rage?
When no peace in sight and house is on ablaze
How many more of them you want to die?
Humanity doesn't want to offer even single try?

How long will you witness my body to collapse?
Cry under pillow and shed the tears?
Blood soaked bodies to be seen all over and no one to see?
Can we call whole world as democratic and free?

No one has observed a single fast when I was raped?
Took out cloths daily and still people have clapped
How would you tolerate such happenings in your own home?
When some one enters by force and remains as unwelcome

You may all open eyes and see the reality
Daily new born die for the poor facilities
I cry silently from the world and cover the face
Would you mind entire race is wiped out from earth's surface?

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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