No words to push
I have no words to push
As mind has stopped the rush
It fails to create impression
What is use of my obsession?
I may think lots of things
It may be irrelevant for any kind of thinking
Why should I thrust upon their intelligent mind?
Readers are brave enough to think and find
Never think you are the only one person
That thinks of high ideology with reasons
Others are not merely meant for at receiving end
They may speak less or not react as reader friend
I still may want to probe their mind with opinion
Many come out with "like" and act as true companion
I wish them to come out with critical comments
So break can be applied with no resentment
It creates man to man liking
As reader and as poet much to the disliking
I shall value them most in any enterprise
As they can at any time spring the surprise?
What am I today is of their unstinted support
Otherwise how can the boat reach at the port?
I shall endeavor on their useful advice
Prove true to the expectation without any misses
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Eye to Eye
A poet with an artist’s eye
can conjure words to set the scene.
Then with the words that he’ll supply
his reader feels as though he’s seen.
The same scene which the poet saw
Draws on his own experience
of things that he has seen before
though it makes little difference.
The message that the poet sent
is perhaps not the one received
The reader senses the intent
and finds the poem well conceived.
The picture which the reader gets
is the scene his own mind sets
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Nada Mas (only the poem)
Reader, your voice is the poem
you are the words; and
nothing more.
Reader, there is no poetry
unless you speak it.
Reader, there is no sound
you must find what it has to say.
Reader, seek the thought
rising from your soul.
Reader, look all about you, up and down
no one else has come this way.
Reader, there is no other poem
only you among the words of the word; and
nothing more.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Warning: Irony And Others Ahead
1
dearest readers online
be forewarned
when you read a poem
there may be irony ahead
and if you don’t look out
yes, it can be like you’ve
run against an iron pole
smack bang against the forehead
(which may not matter if you’re Ironhead â€"
but if you’re anything like me
flesh and blood and heart â€"
Ouch! It can more than hurt!)
2
be forewarned also
when you read a poem
it can be like
driving in a school zone
when the kids are going home â€"
so watch out:
irony may be walking with persona
and the literal with metaphor
and maybe a figurative pig round the corner
and sarcasm hand in hand
with opposite-of-what’s-being-said
3
so do drive alert
eyes open, mind open
when in Poetry Land
O most intelligent reader
for you never know
in the thoroughfare of poetry
who you might
just bump into:
Mr Alternative;
Mr So-in-your-face;
Ms I-Want-to-Talk-About-God-Yet-Again;
Vicar There’s-No-Bloody-God;
Mr and Mrs Moralist;
Mr Hey-Let’s-Have-Sex-While-at-Poetry;
and so on, you know â€"
It can be like being Alice in Wonderland
with the Mad Hatter
but you got to keep your sanity
for company
yep, stay alert
or you might just crash your Reading
4
An Afterthought
and I know
wise reader
all the above might make me sound
like Mr-know-all
but hey â€" modesty’s never been
the poet’s professional trait
(you must think about that â€"
cos even the poet devoted entirely
to Subjects Divine and Holy
and of Such Lofty Things
and exuding sweet humility
is bloody arrogant -
cos they do implicitly or explicitly claim
they know what really matters
while you or I don’t)
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Rain In Indiana
No rain in Indiana is what I heard
I thought "Wow, it's raining everywhere else,
sounds absurd."
Then my friend asked—
"Can you make it rain"
I replied—
"O.K. I will do it tomorrow, not today"
Then in morning around 6 eastern time
I did my shaman thing which is totally from my mind.
Then I get a call around 3—
hey, it rained here today—
not in forcast "was it you Suzy? "
I said, yes—
I would of never guessed—
maybe I do have magical power—but we all do—
we can control the elements if we believe it is true.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on June 27,2012
www.suechevalier.com www.puppetpoems.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Friends flock
Lots of reader friends flock the site
Come with proposals and friendship to delight
I love their wisdom and intelligence
It is really god sent opportunity and chance
Some of them leave behind ever lasting impression
Not with their brilliance alone but with face expression
They speak nothing but rarely a word is missed
You feel intimate enough as if being passionately kissed
I read many faces with humanly concern
Try to understand their point of view in turn
But some of the faces never last from the memory
And if they try to do anytime I feel so sorry
One such character came across like lightening speed
She was "Aakhya" meaning fame with lots of things to feed
It has several meanings to be interpreted like "spoken"
I was all for her beauty on face and never got shaken
Some of the females only might have been blessed
As after long chase her face was traced
What a beauty to speak about and know her feelings
She was all for cooperation and expressed it as willing
Moon is best object to be compared with beauty
She is much more than what I thought can be from almighty
Each line can be read from her beautiful face
So lovely to look at and can be compelled to join the race
She has surprise elements on face
Woven with human colors and more of traces
Feeling for humanity and larger cause for literature
That is how I read and coming things for future
She has tendency to fall in love
May be with her work and firmly believe
That what has been dreamed is achievable
When person is trying to prove and is capable
She has personal gratitude for mother
As beauty with brain she feels no other
I have felt for her brilliance and beauty
She looks imposing and fine person and overall cutie
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Find little favor
Readers are like bournvita tonic
Create stir in mind with panic
They reflect the opinion with precise comment
Make to rejoice or to feel bad with no room to resent
I feel certainly at heart
It touches like pointer from the start
Leaves behind some impression of imperfection
A remedy that is needed for speedy rectification
Poems with no message find little favor
Create an image for poet with some kind of honor
A rare gesture of achievement for an individual
Not to be taken in isolation or treated as casual
Poems do matter less
But not in all the cases
How great I feel at heart?
When they pass comments to appreciate the craft
I may and in fact all must observe
Dedicate self for cause to serve
It may not create impact soon
But help others to see shining sun
We are the reflection and true medium
Not all may come up with same level or maximum
Yet their intention can be well read between lines
Many issues remain on fore and many can remain on side lines
It is always good to be aligned live with communication
Respond to their observation with quick and find quotation
Well judged reply may move them from their stated position
Understand the point and support the well crafted composition
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Madrigal
(To Miss May Forshall.)
HE shouts amain, he shouts again,
(Her brother, fierce, as bluff King Hal),
"I tell you flat, I shall do that!"
She softly whispers " 'May' for 'shall'!"
He wistful sighed one eventide
(Her friend, that made this Madrigal),
"And shall I kiss you, pretty Miss!"
Smiling she answered " 'May' for 'shall'!"
With eager eyes my reader cries,
"Your friend must be indeed a val-
-uable child, so sweet, so mild!
What do you call her?" "May For shall."
poem by Lewis Carroll
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How Deep Is Your Love?
Superficial, or sacrificial?
Secular, or the supernatural?
How deep is your love?
Would you give up quality of life?
Or give up life itself?
To what do we let go?
To what do we hold on?
People or objects?
How far do we go,
Before we move on?
To our breaking point,
Or until we have proven it.
Hold on to resentment,
Let go of another.
Prove our point, or to prove love.
Beauty is only skin deep.
But beautiful is at the core.
The spirit lives forever.
It endures all.
Our essence, our core, is love itself.
Given by God, as He lives inside of us.
He is buried deep,
Surrounded by lies.
Lies we have bought in a cold cruel world.
A world of shallow love.
Love of self, at the cost of another.
She walked away,
He waited.
She asked, "Why when you had me you did not want me, "
"But now I am gone, and you will fight? "
"You have changed, but it is too late."
"For I have found another."
The man replied, "The answer is simple."
"Why is it, you have me now and do not want me? "
"I have proven the truth of my love."
"I have endured a thousand deaths."
"I have risen each time."
"To become love itself."
"Not for me, but for you."
"Affection is shown, but love is assumed."
"To the superficial, love is all show."
"To the sacrificial, love is the show."
"I can tell you I love you,
"But the words have no substance."
"They disappear in thin air."
"Love is patient."
"Love as a feeling, will come and go."
"Feelings are impatient."
"It is truth that never changes."
"And love, that is true, will endure all."
"As it has since the beginning of time."
"Not as defined by society."
"But as defined by the creator and sustainer."
"It is only once the feelings have broken the heart, the holder of the feelings."
"That the beholder is freed."
"To show the love that will never be broken."
"Love that is true."
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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I like your books
In the betting line the other
day
man behind me asked,
"are you Henry
Chinaski?"
"uh huh," I answered.
"I like your books," he went
on.
"thanks," I answered.
"who do you like in this
race?" he asked.
"uh uh," I answered.
"I like the 4 horse," he
told me.
I made my bet and went back
to my seat....
the next race I am standing in
line and here is this same man
standing behind me
again.
there are at least 50 lines at
the windows but
he has to find mine
again.
"I think this race favors the
closers," he said to the back of
my neck. "the track looks
heavy."
"listen," I said, not looking
around, "it's the kiss of death to
talk about horses at the
track..."
"what kind of rule is that?"
he asked. "God doesn't make
rules..."
I turned around and looked at him:
"maybe not, but I
do."
after the next race
I got in line, glanced behind
me:
he was not there:
lost another reader.
I lose 2 or 3 each
week.
fine.
let 'em go back to
Kafka.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Wake up, gentleman
"Hey, you gentleman wake up"
Keep things right and shut up
You must take care of your age
And so on, she spoke with rage
I was amused at flare up but kept quiet
I allowed her to speak and let
As I knew she will calm down
And the reasons for it may be known
She was shivering after lots of blasts
Now she breathed heavily as it did last
She was feeling sorry at being so discourteous
But she stared at me with lots of discomfort and that too continuous
Now I realized what had actually went wrong
Why was she upset over my being near?
Again my left eye winked and she lost control
She threatened me of dire consequences with loud call
I was gifted with some deformities from childhood
That could not have been rectified by nutritious food
That was to remain life long much to my disliking
But movement of eyes was certainly striking
Any unknown woman may take it as an affront
She may think of an insult coming from the front
I shall remain unconcerned but end effect will be unwelcome
So many times I had to explain when such eventuality came
"Clam down dear "I explained to her with some sort of resentment
I saw some puzzle in her eyes with little harassment
I was at pain but put some of the facts before her
She was still unmoved but came to terms later
It is taken as discourteous on our part if we laugh at somebody's fall
Pass remarks at some deformities inherited by birth and beyond our control
Let us be little considerate if that thing had happened with us in person
What would have we done or reacted with special reasons?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Great Poetry?
How could anyone ever truly
Define great poetry?
Factors are so many that contribute
To the way each person does hear-feel-and see.
The season, the day, the very time,
Along with each readers wisdom-knowledge-and mind.
A line read one day
May deeply stir the spirit
While the very next time read
The reader simply just can't 'get-it'.
Besides, who is to judge,
And who is to decide?
Who always speaks truth,
And who pray tell has never lied?
Let the one who has never struggled with emotion and word
Cast the first critical stone,
Let the pure, perfect poet
Read and write completely all alone;
Enshrined by himself
Upon his own empty throne.
After all, it is supposed to be
A bit (or more) of myth and mystery,
A little difficult to decipher, somewhat vague,
Meant to speak, but not brag.
For Goodness sake, it's poetry.
Not prose, not essay, and certainly not the news.
It's forms are many and free,
It's thoughts different and deep,
It's direction everywhere the heart can see,
It's origin, and destination, ineffable...
But to write, one must try, or die... such is the poems strength.
So, let the creator of words create.
With wild and wonderful words to decipher and debate;
And never let the beauty of it all
In trivial criticism suffocate.
What is great poetry though you still inquire?
I should have told you from the start;
(But, then you would not have listened)
Great poetry is always, and only,
Beautiful words written truly
From, and for, the heart.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Four Winds
"Four winds blowing through the sky,
You have seen poor maidens die,
Tell me then what I shall do
That my lover may be true."
Said the wind from out the south,
"Lay no kiss upon his mouth,"
And the wind from out the west,
"Wound the heart within his breast,"
And the wind from out the east,
"Send him empty from the feast,"
And the wind from out the north,
"In the tempest thrust him forth;
When thou art more cruel than he,
Then will Love be kind to thee."
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Correct definition
"Your imagination is scaling new height"
Touching hearts of many and sets
New trend with some reasonable approach
We are in position to think without any coach
Some of the friends may shower with praise
Some may comment badly and unsuccessfully chase
Down grade the moral and discourage to write more
I think of it reasonably and apply break therefore
Not all the poets criticize the new concept
Comments reveal that after reading poem many have wept
It is not easy to make people feel the pulse of the character
Put them in the position and feel as an actor
Poems are just medium to air the views
Paint them in optimistic way to be picked by few
I consider it as fine gesture on the part of readers
Many of them are quite young and bulk of it as elders
Thoughts do not emerge from any type of concentration
It requires no special effort or some kind of mediation
The main thrust is aimed at building delicate relation
Where poet and reader is perfectly aligned with the related question
Modern or old theory of gathering theme is around us
We must believe our eyes and watch it with trust
Simple question is to be asked about why all these happens?
Why are we so blind to the reality despite higher education even?
I trust my pen and air freely whatever penetrates in mind
All doors are open to receive it and suitably find
Agree to imagery set up in mind and relay it further
Ready to feed child with natural feed as mother
It is nice to develop intimate relation
That helps to bridge and receive indication
Frank debate over where we have erred in composition
Adjust if possible or take care in its correct definition
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Oldest Song
For before Eve was Lilith. -- Old Tale.
"These were never your true love's eyes.
Why do you feign that you love them?
You that broke from their constancies,
And the wide calm brows above them!
This was never your true love's speech.
Why do you thrill when you hear it?
You that have ridden out of its reach
The width of the world or near it!
This was never your true love's hair, --
You that chafed when it bound you
Screened from knowledge or shame or care,
In the night that it made around you!"
"All these things I know, I know.
And that's why my heart is breaking!"
"Then what do you gain by pretending so?"
"The joy of an old wound waking."
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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No Harm Done
Whenever I sit on a park bench,
someone will sit down beside me
thinking I look like someone they know.
They speak to me as if I'm an old friend.
When they realize their mistake
they want to apologize,
but I smile and quietly say.
"No harm done." As they begin to leave.
It always happens when I'm alone
and some think that I mind,
when in fact I do not mind at all.
Most just, feel they need to talk
whether it is a stranger or friend
and I must have a kindly face
that attracts them all the time
and I do not mind that at all.
My motto is very simple.
I might feel like them one day
and I hope someone will listen
when I have something to say.
I never turn my back
on whom ever it may be,
whatever race or creed they might be
as we are all just human beings.
One day I hope the world
will see things through my eyes.
Then we will at last see the peace
between all my fellow citizens
of this planet that
all of us call our home.
That is why whenever
someone speaks to me
there is never any harm done.
2 September 2012
poem by David Harris
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Sonnet 105: Let not my love be called idolatry
Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my belovèd as an idol show,
Since all alike my songs and praises be
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind,
Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
Therefore my verse to constancy confined,
One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
"Fair, kind, and true" is all my argument,
"Fair, kind, and true" varying to other words;
And in this change is my invention spent,
Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone.
Which three till now never kept seat in one.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Us Two
Wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
Whatever I do, he wants to do,
"Where are you going today?" says Pooh:
"Well, that's very odd 'cos I was too.
Let's go together," says Pooh, says he.
"Let's go together," says Pooh.
"What's twice eleven?" I said to Pooh.
("Twice what?" said Pooh to Me.)
"I think it ought to be twenty-two."
"Just what I think myself," said Pooh.
"It wasn't an easy sum to do,
But that's what it is," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what it is," said Pooh.
"Let's look for dragons," I said to Pooh.
"Yes, let's," said Pooh to Me.
We crossed the river and found a few-
"Yes, those are dragons all right," said Pooh.
"As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.
That's what they are," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what they are," said Pooh.
"Let's frighten the dragons," I said to Pooh.
"That's right," said Pooh to Me.
"I'm not afraid," I said to Pooh,
And I held his paw and I shouted "Shoo!
Silly old dragons!"- and off they flew.
"I wasn't afraid," said Pooh, said he,
"I'm never afraid with you."
So wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
"What would I do?" I said to Pooh,
"If it wasn't for you," and Pooh said: "True,
It isn't much fun for One, but Two,
Can stick together, says Pooh, says he. "That's how it is," says Pooh.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Soldier, Soldier
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Why don't you march with my true love?"
"We're fresh from off the ship an' 'e's maybe give the slip,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
New love! True love!
Best go look for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes,
An' you'd best go look for a new love.
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
What did you see o' my true love?"
"I seed 'im serve the Queen in a suit o' rifle-green,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Did ye see no more o' my true love?"
"I seed 'im runnin' by when the shots begun to fly --
But you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Did aught take 'arm to my true love?"
"I couldn't see the fight, for the smoke it lay so white --
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
I'll up an' tend to my true love!"
"'E's lying on the dead with a bullet through 'is 'ead,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
I'll down an' die with my true love!"
"The pit we dug'll 'ide 'im an' the twenty men beside 'im --
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Do you bring no sign from my true love?"
"I bring a lock of 'air that 'e allus used to wear,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
O then I know it's true I've lost my true love!"
"An' I tell you truth again -- when you've lost the feel o' pain
You'd best take me for your true love."
True love! New love!
Best take 'im for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes,
An' you'd best take 'im for your true love.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Want To Be Quiet
When a person wants to be quiet?
I don't know exactly as poet
It might have many reasons
But must be varying from person to person
Yes it comes to mind
When all of sudden you find
Your poems are neglected
Not read and not even reacted
That gives simple jolt
As if sudden blue from bolt
Either you are self driven
Or worth yet to be proven
Poetry as such is nobody's domain
It may narrate nature, separation and pain
More of self experience and some of the the facts
How can readers take it seriously and react?
I can judge their mood
But poetry is like food
If you go deep
It may certainly make you to weep
It has human touch
To remain friends all the times as such
Yet suffer some sort of mental agony
When not appreciated by so many
Not that poetry is disliked with its irrelevance?
Not that it has failed to take into account such grievance
The reader's mood is unpredictable like rain
If it comes then it may bring relief along with pain
Even though I have missed their nonparticipation
It speaks of very close affinity and relation
The view points penned in poem may not be suitable
Perhaps this is the only point for them not to struggle
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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When I Find The Right Words
I've been thinking for many days.
I've been trying a long long time.
I've been trying to say it's true.
Trying to say I love you.
There was only one problem I had.
And it was to find the right words to say.
When I find the right words.
When I find the right words to say.
You'll find it's true that I love you.
When I find the right words.
I'm speaking of you.
You'll find that it's true.
You'll find it's true that I love you.
When I find the right words.
Now as time goes by.
I still bear in mind, I love you.
And as time goes by.
I still bear in mind, my love for you.
There's still only one thing I've got to do.
And that's to find the right words.
When I find the right words.
When I find the right words to say.
You'll find it's true that I love you.
When I find the right words.
I'm still speaking of you.
You'll still find that it's true.
You'll find it's true that I love you.
When I find the right words.
When I find the right words..
Love-Ballad By Kim Robin Edwards
(Lyric) Copyright 1983,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
See>> www.edwardspoetry.com
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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