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
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Related quotes
Imagery Animal
Poets are imagery animals
Wait for thoughts arrival
Think a lot and then write
Use head more to ignite
Thoughts are burnt
Wish ashes to turn
Into new form to upraise
The status to be up and praised
But normally they are quiet
Allow things to let
Down at low level
With proper time to excel
Now millions come up like flowers
Even without rainy showers
They are product of fast age
Not much to impress with each page
One in million stars is praised
Taken to recognition and believed
Poets are known as star family
Twinkle little in their own capacity
Not all may be able to speak with authority
Some may define imagery love and some may praise almighty
Some may put with all the times to remember and some with variety
It is all about poets tenure and may not be remembered like deity
It is their job to create pure imagination
Sometimes to be painted with correct relation
Not all the incidences pure images
Some ideas are meant to take out souls from the cages
It is reasonable stand to expose
To be known as poet and pose
With whatever capacity and thrust
The poet's position is commendable and is must
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Miser by nature
Human being is miser by nature
But very much intelligent for sure
It is good quality to spend with calculation
That enhances prestige and relation
Think of reputation when you take something on loan
Hold back and silently swallow with no intention to return
Under such circumstances this quality stands good
People have known it and surely understood
It is very hard to take out single pence from pocket
That too from other person without his being let
If you can do it then it can be considered as extra intelligence
You can amass wealth in no time with golden chance
Many poets write their creative work for some appreciation
Some of them shine extra ordinarily and some still remain with confusion
Everybody wants quick response from readers
But none wants to put their effort for ordinary writers
Writers suffer and in turn suffer literature
Only set poets come forward with their future
Some form syndicate and get quick response
Others watch helplessly and remain tense
It helps in long run even if talent not recognized
As short cuts don't help and remain non- obliged
Fine poems find their place in the assured slot
It is moon coming out of dark clouds after bravely fought
Let no path be blocked for simple reason
It takes years of great struggle for person
To gain a name and find some respectability
It speaks of fine creation with super quality
I speak for no one and claim no immunity
It is grace from god and surely a gift of divinity
No one can write simple words for mass appeal
Nice poets may find place and other's fate may be sealed
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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New oder
What can man do to live immortal?
Even thought any accident can prove fatal
Person can be no more on the spot
This led me seriously to think a lot
What are we today on present age?
Nothing but a small fly and unable to manage
What are we struggling and what for?
I had sought an answer but did not go far
Many people like for what I am today
Some adversely remark and few find nice way
Talk freely with their problems and ask advice
I render it freely that makes them to dream high with promises
An art itself is divine gift
You can do nothing with its shift
It may vanish any time with passing of time
Or remain with you for little longer time
Poetry as such is an obsession
That can't be turned into passion
It has to origin from one's own heart
The words and narration simply comes out as an art
Some of the verses may flow like river water
Carry readers along and leave them later
It is some sort of hidden bond that remains forever
Many old poets have occupied position as such there
Today's generation passes through crucial stage
Computers have reduced the scope of pen and page
Everything is instant and available before eyes
Poems may go extinct in years that may go by
Let us hope for some new order
Young poets appear permanently here and there
We shall not remain here for them to watch
Even through thorough our poems they shall try to catch
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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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
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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
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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
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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
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Our Poetry Critics
Our poetry critics ageing males on saturday evenings from six to nine
Meet at the literary room of the Lions Club to do what suits them fine
To talk of poetry and poets each to their point of view
Though they agree on one thing that good poets only few.
Well educated gents of course and they could not be rude
But contemporary rhyme poets only poetasters and them they exclude
From their talk of poets and poetry and in their literary knowledge they take pride
And who is or who is not a poet seems their right to decide.
They never talk about bush poets such verse they see as slipshod
And they see them as the children of the lesser poetry god
And for their years in Uni they have their degrees to show
And of poets and of poetry so much they think they know.
To them a poem is not a poem unless it reads like prose
And a ballad different from true verse as a weed is from a rose
And true poets only write for the privileged few that's what they do imply
And never for the ordinary, people like you and I.
Our poetry critics at the Lions they meet on saturday
And who is a good poet and what is a good poem each like to have their say
And if you wish to become a member of their club you must have your Uni Degrees
For if not to them you are not qualified for to talk about poetry.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Good Poets and Bad Poets
Some poets get awards and think they are good poets.
Some poets never get awards and think they are bad poets.
Some poets think they are good poets only in their own mind
Some poets think they are bad poets in somebody's else mind.
Some poets think they are good poets in somebody else mind.
Some poets think others think they are good poets but they don't in their hearts.
Some poets think they are good poets in their hearts but not in anyone else's mind.
All are insecure, except those who get security from the opinions of others and that, alas, doesn't last and isn't real.
Some poets have left the entire scene and live only in their mind.
Some poets take criticism and don't mind.
Some poets avoid criticism and do mind.
Some poets write poetry to get love.
Some poets love to write poetry.
Some poets are ahead of their time, in their mind
Some poets spend a lifetime feeling like failures in their mind
Some poets live only after they die.
Some poets have much to say but can't articulate
Some poets retreat, believing others don't understand
So which one of these am I?
I guess I am all of these and none of these
and no matter what my description
I intend to keep doing what I do:
Write. Right
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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0005 Totally Boring Poem
I’m totally bored by:
poems that sound like other poems
poems that try to sound unlike any other poems
poets who never take risks
poets who think that taking risks
makes them good poets
poems with 'meaning'
poems with no meaning
poets who slag off other poets
as if that achieves something
poets that tell you that rhyme
is not for an age but for all time
poets that tell you that rhyme is outmoded and boring
poets who think that the poetry of 'the past'
is greater than that of 'the present'
poets who think that the poetry of 'the present'
is greater than that of 'the past'
poems that tell you the poet's the first to discover sex
poets that tell you they’re the best sex you’ll ever have
although you’ll never meet them to find out
poets that tell you they’ve been dumped
poets who've never known love and being dumped
poets who are ambitious
poets who are unambitious
poets who tell you all about higher things
poets who reject higher things
poets who think life’s just a joke
poets who think life’s no joke
poets who sit on the fence
poets who have no sense of balance
poets who despise 'the middle ground'
poets who talk about technique
poets with no technique
poets who just throw down their thoughts
poets who 'work up' their poems to a self-satisfied polish
poets who list what they like (who cares?)
poets who list what don’t like (who cares?)
poets who write about extreme states
poets who think they’re immune to extreme states
poets who tell you why they’re bored
poets who have opinions
poets who seem to have no opinions at all
poets who have boring opinions to air - why choose poetry?
poets who comment on others' poems
as if it's the last word
poets who never bother to comment
on others' poems
poets who don't love poetry passionately
poets who tell you they 'love poetry passionately'
poets who – oh I’m too bored to go on reading this,
how about you?
I suppose you have boring opinions too?
another time perhaps
and oh yes I'm most of all bored by
those who waste their precious time on this earth
being bored
well I feel better for that.
how about you?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Good morning Boss
Day spoils if start is not at all good
We can do away with no good food
But certainly not with bad start
You may wear gloomy face and feel bad heart
It is said “whose beginning then his day too will be bad”
He may find it difficult with brother. Mummy or even with dad
There may take place unusual things to disturb whole day
You may loose patience and find no other good way
In office day starts with “'good morning” to boss
you got to always yes and never no even at some personal loss,
He is the one person in office who is always in tension,
You can’t expect any thing bad worth to mention,
I always take steps for its prevention,
I never ask or raise any question,
Simply fall in line with him ready to go with his words
try to show the sincerity and keenness in special work
I or for that matter no one can afford to loose his grace
Loosing favor means you won’t have any trace
All odds against you and problems to face,
Why simply to enter then unnecessary race?
Try to be near him but not so close,
Butter daily with kind words and offer rose,
Stand by with him in the time of need
Never show bad gesture and prove your worth in deed
it is hard time to show sincerity and prove best class
Hide the discomfiture and feelings under dark glass,
don’t try to create any flutter and allow the day to pass,
Allow his name to be seen plate with shining in brass
If you ever happen to fall out of grace
Ready yourself to challenge and face,
Offer very good smile and use kind words,
Remain obedient and sincere as you remain with lords
After all he is bread provider and boss
We can’t afford to alienate him at any cost
Our relation may at any time go frost
But it is not the end of the day or love lost
Try to reason out your obedience
Prove that office is at par excellence
It is only because of his brilliance
Office has got reputation only by his presence
It is no exaggeration to use few good words in his honor
You may find that he too may stand for your favor
In fact it is the presence of all that count s for performance
There is no use if we undermine his authority in others presence
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Supposed to be quiet
Supposed to be quiet
Ordinary and gentlemen people are supposed to be quiet
It is more or so in case of shy poets
They may try to extract any thought that may try to emerge
What else can be attributed for the self to purge?
What poor poet expects from fellow brethrens?
When her mind is occupied with devotion and no concerns?
What all ideas may be invading his mind?
Single mind to be concentrated and find
Long drawn battle for conceptual acceptance
Is this task not daunting and challenging at once?
He is for peace and stability among people
Life once again to breathe without any troubles
How many thoughts to be discarded?
How many views to be reviewed and rewarded?
So much struggle in mind for beautiful presentation
Not for any appreciation or getting the citation
The flowers boom in beautiful garden
They gain full blossom at maturity even
But how many disappear even at the down of the day?
Who hold their fingers in hand and show the way?
So many poets beat their drum in wilderness
Present their fine creations and surface
Many may be just dreaming about bright sun
What tragically remains in their luck to run?
No one takes note their sad demise
How many pledges were made with promises?
They all are found now useless and hollow
What else is left for them than to lie low?
Not all can reach to great height
Unfortunates may even meet bad fate
Their dreams will be shattered once for all
World may watch their nose dive and fall
Another bright star may be lost
It will not at somebody’s cost
Some good heart may breathe last time
Where do we think or care any times?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Turn a great poet
You can turn a great poet
Only you should have an art of keeping others quiet
Keep group of four or five to support
Rest other poets may stand to deport
It happens in all the organizations
It becomes known only after some revelations
But exactly what cause we serve by doing so?
We make indecent entry for other poets to go
There is no yard stick for readers to prefer
Some of the ideas are pre set and is likely to differ
Yet some kind of favor reflects in trend
This is enough reason for good poet to buckle or bend
In new set up, he may find hardly any one to support
Where as few others poets may kill his chance to anchor at port
None may appreciate his effort to strengthen poetry base
Lot many of them may disappear without facing tough chase
I have hardly any reason to resent
But of course spirit of good poetry is absent
You go after established poets with so much to praise
And not a single word for simple poet to boost or raise
Poets are born and not made
As earth gives up nice crops when deeply spade
It is water and natural manure that cultivates fine
Green corps may stand in defiance to define
Do the words create all magic in verses?
Yes if that is felt within one honestly pursues
Poetry may be felt all along even if ignored
As sea waves rush unstoppable toward shore
Bank may feel greatly elated at striking noise
The sound is heard beautifully with sweet voice
As if music is created with each passing wave
Ups and down of journey surely represent the waves
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A turning gold
I fear of being called old
but in fact turning Gold
astute behavior and approach bold
head of the family and very nice hold
Calmness like sea and brightness like sun
family members would love and make fun
my try to win the race with stick walk run
children may point with small barrel gun
'Grandpa, your time is over'
we will give you cover
your inning should not last
as you are aging very fast
Don't leave us behind
where from we will find?
you are our dad's dad and very kind
we touch your feet as you are soft and mild
It turns me old when somethig I hear
“One time handsome may not remain dear”
He is loosing charm and wrinkles developed
Great show on stage is likedly to be floaped
I feel delighted when hear nice words
There is no fun to think of age and look backward
Any one may go for high jump when fully young
Alas! it is beautiful inning but not going to last long
Who can stop the blowing wind?
Who can clip the bird’s wing?
You may go high in the air
The game is considered to be very fair
It is the test of time that you spread the fragrance
The ability and young age is thing of presence
It may stay as long as you think it is in your reach
The birds may come down to find and search
Where do we find peace and shelter?
Where is our final destginy and cover?
Who will accompany us till the end?
The world has to be made as lovely abode and friend
The sun may shine hard and rain may cause the blow
The vigor and strength may develop cracks and go slow
The speed may slower and ri ver may stop the flow
The eys may loose the sight and face its glow
The wrinkles are sign of wisdom
It truly reflects but speaks seldom
Who knows better what can be spoken off?
World may not realize when to cry and laugh
The river water have calmed down and flow silently
The words too are spoken very nicely and gently
You represent serious figure and act as saintly
The advice too comes easily and instantly
One must, in times to come, must grow old
So many may be following you and come in fold
It is not wrinkles but lines on face
That may speak of marathon race
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Why People Become Poets Poets Dreams
have you ever wondered why people become poets?
poets have been around since the beginning of time
and they have been mostly men, speaking of their loves, life
and emotions.
famous love stories, plays, movies, all seen thru a poets eyes.
just as the centuries have gone by and everything in life has changed
so have the poets.
there is now as many and if not more female poets
than male poets. why? because they are more sensitive to emotions
and are not afraid to show or speak of it, unlike men who want to
show the 'MACHO MAN IMAGE'
poets see life thru different eyes for different situations
and write about it in so many forms, and see the light and
the darkness in everything, including the good and bad.
it may be just one word, or a line, or verse
that enters their mind to start creating
what will become a poem,
what is the poets dream that you will create?
a love story, a sad story, one of fear or hate, or passion
one of beauty, or war.
so many things to choose from- but it doesn’t matter
what you may choose, you must take the first step.
just as reading this is the first step to start on your way to writing poetry
and opening up your mind and soul.
touching other people and receiving comments
and feedback on your writings will help you to improve
on your weak areas.
some people do it because they are looking for fortune and fame
while others want to communicate with others, and others
just to see their names on something other than
a bill being paid.
poem by Louis Rams
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Love symbol
I have assessed any analyzed number of times
The role of female in life, but occurred only sometimes
Though they deserved it from clear point of view
We have never given them their due with sincere review
Where should have been my position without her?
What would have happened if she did not take care or bother?
Bulk of the responsibilities shared exclusively by single handed
Still all the times under captivity and with the problems landed
I was given free hand to worry only for raising the fund
That should have met and won the first round
It would have been difficult to survive the on going race
We would not have been able to stand bravely and face
I might have barely thought of going ahead
It would have been impossible to think and lead
The role and responsibilities are clearly defined
The life as such stands fine and shined
I look back and see or visualize her association
It was her frantic effort for the elevation
No one could have cared so much as females do
This is basic fact and very much true
I should not have dreamed of any better position
We had nice and very good composition
The days were passing like smooth river water flow
We were very happy in life even though laid very low
No male will admit the domination of female
It is like challenging the role of whale
Both remain indomitable in any case
Still admiration or respect will never be less
Some of the touchy aspects still hunt the mind
Same beautiful moments are very rare to find
Can we dream of those lost moments for a while?
It would have been very difficult to cut even extra mile
Sometimes I would stare at main door and wait
She will slowly enter not to make the presence very late
I appreciated her presence of mind and admired
She will never spoil the mood and stay smiled
We could have barely survived for few more years
We could never cross the threshold of fifty or more barriers
It was her sweet company that made us to survive more
The relation remained same and never turned sour
She influenced me all those years and more
I have seen her beauty and fully adored
All glorious moment that you do not miss even for seconds
Through out the period your presence was precious like diamond
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Woman Of Rhyme
She is not what you'd call beautiful though still in her prime
And to those who know her she is known as The Woman of Rhyme
In Local Literary circles not even one of note
As she does not fit the bill of the Modern Poet.
But the rhyme from her gushes and it races along
And in five minutes flat she can pen you a song
And though not classified as a poet her verse is not doggerel
And with her gift of rhyme one might say she does well.
Some fifty years ago she would have known fame
And her's would have been a great Literary name
But rhyme it would seem has passed it's use by date
And what's now seen as old fashioned was once seen as great.
Even the best of the Local modern poets seem strangers to renown
But then such is life in a football mad Town
In the pubs the names of famed poets and artists they never recall
Their small talk mostly of sports, footballers and football.
For what she is good at she is not recognized
But having said that I am not really surprised
since rhyme verse has long passed it's glorious time
And none to applaud the young Woman of Rhyme.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Deceased Poets Of Nature
Such beautiful poems to Nature they did write
The poetry we love for to read and recite
May they rest in peace now where-ever they lay
The deceased poets of Nature their poems live today
They glorified Nature and her praises they sung
And though they may be long dead their poems remain young
the poets of the land and the poets of the sea
In their beautiful poetry their greatness we do see
Their poems and their songs I loved as a boy
And their poems and their songs I will always enjoy
The beauty of Nature they did celebrate
And beauty in their words they loved to create.
Great insights of Nature from them we did gain
The beauty of their words with us does remain
We loved them for their poems in decades long gone
The deceased poets of Nature their poems living on.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Might is right
It is always the fact that might is right
They will go on till the end to fight
They may do it with the speed of light
They have the wisdom and long sight
Small insects kill smaller one
Big also kill little one and go on
It is complete cycle of exploitation
Everybody looses in turn and in rotation
So if rich rule the scene then nothing wrong
Not all can be in race and come along
It is sheer coincidence that mighty rule
Otherwise not all the people are fool
Person with abundance can sustain losses
He may have no regret even if looses
This gives them little advantage
Rest all feel confined to cage
Once you are under domination you are bound to suffer
You may have no rights other than to differ
So poor remain poor and rich gets richer
Poor remain suppressed for times to come
Rich are dominating and always welcome
Corruption has engulfed poor and rich alike
Everybody is influenced and affected with hike
No one wants to remain as poor like
Rich too wants not to become poor and dislike
This is tendency that we feel pity for poor
We have seen them knocking the door
But it is the system that will remain forever
Even if God descends on earth it will be there
If you have same system with no discrimination
No one may work and develop alienation
They will feel free with passing of responsibility
Here comes then the end of clear and distinct ability
If you have system with loop holes anybody will escape
No one can restrict the temptation or put the cap
Only the poor fail to emerge for the want of resources
The powerful emerge and re-emerge with full force
The oppression part is little disturbing
No one can force or go on curbing
No one can be forced to undergo torture
Even God has made it very sure
The rich may have disliking for poor
Poor to may have tendency to show exit door
It has been clash of time for centuries and very old
No one can buy it or arguments can be sold
Lord may wish so for all His children
He may even grant the same blessing even
Yet that difference may remain and even if not
The needless wars might not have been fought
The human beings may create it to rule
They make use of all available tools
Rich may tackle poor and poor may tackle down trodden
As the system remains same with all the odds even
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The poet's page
Like a band of beggars
Revealing to each other
Where to find the bread
Is the poets page
An open line
Where poets reveal what's
Inside their heads
A platform of
Artistic exchange
Where an accompany of poets
Express what should be said,
As the
Words seems to take on life
For they are poet read
Poets can feel one anothers pain
As well as relates to each
others shame
Emphasizing on a topic is
A poet's personal lane
Poets dvides the spoil
As they expand, due to
sharing their gain
This is partly my analogy
Of a poet's fame
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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