Skype' You are a Scourge
I Try to read the verse
Line to line
'Skype' pops in
And stops the rhyme
Reading quality writes
Verse to verse
Giving them respect
For the rehearse
Tsira,
Greenwolf,
And Dee Daffodil
Writes sure to put a smile
On your grill
For 'SKYPE' your
Such a scourge
Taking and replacing
Fine writings
Leaving me with an urge
To push my computer to the verge
For I plead
To the authorites
Mercy
Mercy
(And not in french)
My stomach Knotted by
A wrench
My cry! , my cry?
And deafness I must defy
Can you really hear me sigh? ?
Its replacation
Toxic poision
Its transmission
Producing Progeny
Likes of the such: (
'Be Romantic'
So innocent is its touch
'Whats your credit score'
Luring me to a financial door
'Who is searching for you? '
What else is new?
To end this little ugly write
I am just alone?
A desireous reader of a poem....
poem by Howard Johnson
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Related quotes
Alankar(Decor) -76
Bhaji-(Chain Verse)
Chain Verse is composed in one of three ways:
1 Chain Verse is composed
with the last word or syllable of one line repeated
in the beginning of the next line.
2 Chain Verse can be stanzaic, most often written in any number of quatrains
but any stanza form will do, linked by repeating the last word of a stanza
as the first word of the next stanza.
The repetition of a word from one Verse or stanza to the next creates a chain-like link.
usually rhymed, linking rhyme as well as alternate rhyme.
often syllabic, alternating longer-shorter lines.
One example is alternating 8-7-8-7 syllables the other is alternating 6-5-6-5 syllables per line.
3 Chain Verse can be written
with the last line of the stanza repeated
as the first line of the next stanza.
----
2
Bhaji-(Chain Verse-6-5-6-5 syllables
With linking rhyme only)
I found a guava plant
Silent in a nook
Along my garden stroll
On a rainy day
Day was cool in showers
No wonder taste hyped
Picked some fresh guava leaves
Wishing for bhajis
Bhajis are many types
Of veggies and leaves
Can make tasty bhajis
Guava leaves too used
Used are gram and rice flours
With salt and chilli
Mixed in are leafy bits
And soda a dash
Dashing batter ready
When mixed with water
The center line Strung out
Dipped leaves get coated
Coated leaves then deep fried
Out from deep hot oil
Season's snack was ready
Why wait, munch said I
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Line By Line
Writing line by line
Can i capture the truth in rhyme
You tell me okay its fine
Whats fine my writings or the rhymes
Have you read enough this time
Rhyme line rhyme
Am i wasting my time
Do i even comprehend
The thoughts the static static
Inside my head
I send a piece to a friend
Or are they scared to offend
I need to know if its rubbish
Putting it out there to be published
Rhyme line verse
Do you speak the truth or were you coerced
So im taking you at your word
You have listened you heard
Line by line
Rhyme by rhyme
Can i be convicted of poetry crimes
For writing dribble
About nothing as long as it rhymes
Well thank you my friend
Here is another i am about to send
Read it and read it again
Maybe you can send on to a friend
Okay time to go
I have more pieces of dribble you know
Song Of A Rhyming Man
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
This modern verse too much for me it's way above my head
Though modern poets are now the rage and Rhyme is with the dead.
I love the sound of rhyming words, I love the verse that rhyme
To blank or free or non rhyme verse prefer it every time
And there's many who will disagree and most will say I'm wrong
But give me ballad or rhyme verse or good old rhyming song.
You may say I am limited and with you most will agree
That I'm not into modern verse of twenty first century
But I've been an old style rhyming man since nineteen seventy three
And I am in my sixties now and there's no changing me.
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
And I am guilty of no sin and I can't see no crime
In liking sound of rhyming verse and loving words that rhyme
poem by Francis Duggan
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The literary life
We went to the house
of Afrikaans poetry together
on weekends and spent hours there
and listened to the master lecture
and met some poet friends
around a table
with a drink or two.
Sometimes the poetry was Afrikaans,
English, Dutch or even German
and we learnt form poets
around the globe.
We discussed what we had
just learned,
asked about his views
of certain things,
or what people in the group think,
discussed poetry, life,
sometimes even politics
and philosophy
as individuals of a group.
We read our poems,
listened to other poets,
reading their own,
analysed every word, every line
comprehending meaning, impact
and sharpened our art.
Your poetry was really great,
from when I read the very first line,
but mine had still to grow
from rhyme into free verse.
At times I hated comments
that forced me to move,
but realized that it was meant
with great goodwill
and even though I was in pain
I sharpened my verse
and free verse brought
a clearer ear, making it
much easier to write
great rhyme.
Now that I had to leave Pretoria,
weekends I really miss
that great writing school,
new poems from great poets,
learning something there,
experiencing poetry at its core,
lectures from that great master
and verses of his own,
but much more
your poems.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Russell Baker writes columns as a poet writes light verse - with tongue in cheek and a steady hand.
quote by Thomas D'Evelyn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unsolicited Testimonial
They say Wendy Cope
Writes humorous verse
And whyever not?
She could do a lot worse
She could write clever poems
Intended to sound
Philosophically deep
Obscurely profound
Or pen tragic poems
Of love, loss and woe
Tearfully epic
Dreadfully slow
Or criticise men
Just for having a willy
For not being perfect
And sometimes quite silly
But dear Wendy Cope
Writes humorous verse
Which is quite a relief
It could be so much worse
poem by Pat Duggan
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Try It
(clarke / hicks / nash)
Travel by the silver line
To a place that has no time.
Why dont you try it now?
Working hard to see the light,
Let your mind take up in flight.
Why dont you try it now?
Its beautiful, seeing all the colors of the rainbow,
Beautiful, covering the people that we know.
See the color of health
Flowing from your older self.
Why dont you try it now?
Living good, stopped playing games,
Traveling the astral planes.
Why dont you try it now?
Chorus x 2
Verse 1
Verse 2
Verse 3
Verse 4
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only one night.
Remember the verse
remember the rhyme.
Remember the meter
all set in a line.
Remember the story
from begining to end.
He is an old man
with a young friend.
Is it a kiss, or is it a lie.
Remember the verse
and always asked why.
Why is so
why is it right.
To become a poet
for only one night.
poem by Roy Storey
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The Greatest Line
What was the greatest
line of verse ever written?
I know a secret...
the greatest line...
the greatest line of verse
ever written an eternal rhyme
a rhyme that sings
seeds of potent peace
through an entire universe
that sings throughout time
“You must love ADONAI
your God with your whole heart
and your whole soul
and your whole strength.”
“You must love your neighbour
As you love yourself.” Matthew 22: 35-40.
“Peace On Earth and
Good Will To All Men”
Harmony Throughout Eternity
God Dwells In The Heart
Of All Men Who Worship
Their Lord Sovereign Creator
Throughout All Eternity
With Blessed Love
For All Glorious Creation
Harmony Throughout Eternity
poem by Terence George Craddock
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You Can Contribute A Verse
Contribute a verse, contribute a verse,
Who can contribute a verse?
Contribute a verse, contribute a verse,
You can contribute a verse.
You may be an underpaid lab’rer,
Streetsweeper or overworked nurse,
A migrant without any papers,
But you can contribute a verse.
You left school at sixteen with no GCSEs?
Did you graduate from Oxford with a First?
Makes no diff’rence, not one bit, for you both are fully fit,
Well-equipped to lay before the world a verse.
You may have no notes in your wallet,
You may have no coins in your purse,
No shoes on your feet, no breakfast to eat,
But you can contribute a verse.
Are you feeling sad and lonely,
In the depths of misery?
Do you feel this Life we’re living
Is not worth the entrance fee?
Are you sure that things will not get any better?
Quite persuaded they will go from bad to worse?
No great problem, drama, crisis, doesn’t matter,
As long as you can come up with a verse.
And it’s possible you’ve heard that our days upon this earth
Are not many, are not many, precious few.
We have hardly enough time to take in all of the sights,
Or do the things that we would like to do.
For we’ve barely crawled out of the cradle,
Then they cart us away in a hearse.
So, in the meantime don’t be idle:
Be sure to contribute a verse!
27/9/06
poem by Denys E. W. Jones
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Starting Point To Hearts Of Men
the sky is a sacred place
where the mind of god
rests upon that of humanity
it is the place where
good poems are created
line by line, verse by verse
a storm never brews here
because of the sky
but the clouds, winds and sun
to know the workings
of the clouds, winds and sun
is to know the sky of intelligence
the place where every verse
is strewn to the steps of nature,
written to the laws of reason
and the desires of hearts
the sky is a sacred place
the meeting point of god
and humanity
the starting point to the hearts
of men
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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905 THE PROMISED SNOW HAS COME (Monchielle)
A MONCHIELLE is a classical form of Poetry with the following prescriptions. It has five verses - each of five lines. Each line has six syllables and the first line in each verse is the same. Verse three must rhyme with verse five. It is an excellent form for a contemporary comment such as the current 'Snowbound' condition of the UK.
The promised snow has come
Forecasters said it would
But two things did not share
They did not tell us when
They did not tell us where.
The promised snow has come
To North - South - East and West
It came two weeks ago
It just won't go away
It's real Siberian snow!
The promised snow has come
And all the schools have closed
The children think that's nice.
The cars slide to and fro
The roads are thick with ice.
The promised snow has come
The sledges all are out
It's twelve degrees below
The Snowmen Rule KO
We've never seen such snow!
The promised snow has come
No one escapes the freeeeeeeeeeeeze
Solid lakes and rivers
Cars stuck in snow drifts - and............
We've all got the shivers! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
(John Knight - Ice-age Colchester - 8 January 2010)
poem by John Knight
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Genius Born To Break Rules
slant rhyme corrected
poetry teacher corrections
stuck in muddy rules
the great and genius
are born to break rules
mainstream adhered
seasoned esteemed
recognized poetry teacher
had taught his poetry
classes for decades
basking in certainty
of set academic rules
inferior gerund form
not to be maturity used
in verse perfect line
please do not
embarrass him
do not mention
masterful classical poem
'The Rhyme Of The Ancient Mariner'
one of the greatest poems
ever written
penned to paper
dramatic verse
immediacy of active
masterful gerund form
infuses genius verse
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Verses From God
I’m just the pen; God is the ink, Who fills me as I write and think,
And God’s ink never runs dry, as it flows from His Spirit on high.
Penning verse that never ends, as He talks to a world of friends,
As I go to God in prayer, He pens down each blessing and care.
In a trial God helps me through, He pens verse to share with you,
And the blessing He brings my way, as He helps me, day to day.
As I write every word and line, I do not claim the verses as mine,
For as the pen to page is pressed, it is my heart that is blessed.
Blessing seem to come my way, as He helps me, in what to say,
To illustrate to all those who read, that Jesus is The Lord indeed.
His Words just seem to flow, not knowing where His idea will go,
But His point He makes every time, as God speaks on each line.
He draws from deep inside, my heart, where His Scriptures hide,
Always used at the proper place, to pen down a verse of Grace.
And as the page begins to fill, it is not my poem, but God’s will,
That fills lines with His Word, which some who read, never heard.
It’s God above who fills my pen, with words for the eyes of men,
By means of only poetic verse, to claim victory, over sin’s curse.
The page is filled by God above, with true examples of His Love,
Penning Truth for men to see, He’s a God who loves you and me.
(Copyright ©08/2007)
Between the pages
Between the pages
~
between the pages
we line ourselves in verse
where we play out a story
of our own making
the turns and twists
brought through words
etched upon the page
ink flows to its own beat
like a raging heart
pouring out before the eyes
a world becomes forgotten
lost in the celebration
between pages
each line shared
written
in its own breath
creation begins
time lapses
into our verse
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Woman Who Loves Poesy
She has a twenty years old daughter but she leads a single life
And she knows what it feels like to be a mother but not to be a wife
Her great love is Goddess Poesy only poesy she admire
And her creative source it comes from poesy and poesy in her verse inspire.
She writes such beautiful poetry as a poet she is well known
And as a genuine wordsmith her reputation it has grown
The woman who loves poesy is good at what she do
At least one can say of her to her own self she is true.
Since writing poetry can be a hungry belly game the well informed say
She works as a bar maid in the Golf Club Rooms for to earn her hard earned pay
But all of her spare time devoted to poesy since poetry she loves to write
Her poems on many different subjects are a source of delight
To poetry lovers who read her verses and many of her say
That from penning verse she will grow wealthy and become quite well known one day
But she does not write for fame or money she only writes because she
Happens for to be a person devoted to Goddess Poesy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Silent Pages
Another passing moment
writes a line in the firmament
And the passing days
Write their own verse of phrases
Another passing year
Writes another stanza,
Of an episode
Whether an elegy or an ode
Every passing generation
a new chapter adds to the collection
Every passing age,
filling another volume of pages
Every thought and deed
known or hid,
that lived and living lives articulate,
hath but no exact duplicate;
a draft manuscript,
a record accurate and fair
without corrections, to keep
in a great library somewhere
A labor in quiet, silent and solemn
the never ending book of poems
being written without hands
and the imprints thereof burned
forever into memories
and left as evidence or legacies
For posterity?
Or to present one day?
The silent words may not always rhyme
Nor make sense
But then musical chimes
of a million spheres
make as much sense…
singin’ in the universe
…but then only to the author
or the composer
alone, perhaps?
poem by Lyre Bleus
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Must
She writes as if there’s not much time.
She writes to pain, to happiness,
She writes to every remote detailed thought.
She writes to the departed,
to the extant,
to poverty,
to wealth.
She writes to mourn, and grief.
She writes to the wind, the rain,
forest, the desert, and mountains.
She writes to her pouring tears,
to her grateful moments,
She writes because really what she has is time.
She has no little ones to feed, or bathe,
nor a husband to make happy. To write is
to escape- to her. Time is not a problem, time
is just a killing system, she needs to kill in many words.
She writes as if there’s not much time.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Poem about Poetry - The Great Poet, The Sea
the sea is a great poet
a giant pot of ink
which it writes out lines
that sparkle in emerald
by day and black by night
throw her the moon
and the lunar lady
immediately becomes a
dancing star beating a
path to our heart in
her graceful glowing shroud
throw her the sun
and you bet van gogh would
even put his brush
and Sunflowers away
to be inspired by its
breathtaking dazzling lines
throw her the wind
and the sea immediately
grins with a million lips
singing a song of gratitude
to the almighty
throw her the gulls
and their glorious white
would swing to a verse of
shining metaphors
- young ballet dancers trailblazing through
the rough and tumble world of showbiz
throw her a a ship
and it will rock you
the fashion of a new mom
for its babe in a cradle
wishing it would bring
babe to wherever he wants to be
by day or by night
be by the Sea
as it painstakingly works
on its verse
line by line
swish and swosh
swish and swosh
swish and swosh
never tires of trying
to impress a visitor
of its divine calling
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Alankar(Decor) -79
Alankar(Decor) -58
Sail O'Soul Sail(Chain Verse)
Chain Verse is composed in one of three ways:
1 Chain Verse is composed
with the last word or syllable of one line repeated
in the beginning of the next line.
2 Chain Verse can be stanzaic, most often written in any number of quatrains
but any stanza form will do, linked by repeating the last word of a stanza
as the first word of the next stanza.
The repetition of a word from one Verse or stanza to the next creates a chain-like link.
usually rhymed, linking rhyme as well as alternate rhyme.
often syllabic, alternating longer-shorter lines.
One example is alternating 8-7-8-7 syllables the other is alternating 6-5-6-5 syllables per line.
3 Chain Verse can be written
with the last line of the stanza repeated
as the first line of the next stanza.
3
Sail O'Soul Sail
Once boarded why you fear o' soul
Just be watching where sails your mind
Aspiring to horizon-goal
All set on a smooth float by wind
All set on a smooth float by wind
On gentle waves across your sea
As you sail assailed by your mind
How those desires hit your heart free
How those desires hit your heart free
As of a choice in heaven's trade
That your mind is on aiming spree
In illumed dreamings in fate's shade
In illumed dreamings in fate's shade
While your sail is mid way caught up
How your sea baits in storming grade
And shocked you struggle to catch up
And shocked you struggle to catch up
For not yours but your mind's misdeed
Helpless you are jailed in lockup
Your vessel too shattered indeed
Your vessel too shattered indeed
Such is your sea of greed and lust
Such is the fate of your sea's heed
Wind too is feeling difficult
Wind too is feeling difficult
Now that the sea somewhat calms still
Wind settles in silenced cool mute
Atlast your vessel too nihil
Atlast your vessel too nihil
And sea gone in presence of Nought
You are freed atlast to your will
To board the next the way you're caught
sea-life, wind-breath, vessel-body.
poem by Indira Renganathan
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