A farm picture
a christian poet reading
a page of the koran
and all taken up by how god
himself could be so emotionally
worked up by the beauty
of the cattle walking in a line
on a plain, admiring, appreciating
his own creation
well men were created in his likeness
how wrong they have taken this likeness
to mean only appearances
but god fumes, curses, kills,
sometimes whole cities
all over the bibles, and if you like the koran
a christian poet lost in the lines
all about an entity, an entity
brighter than light, more eminent
than all the intelligences put together
inspired by
A Farm-Picture
THROUGH the ample open door of the peaceful country barn,
A sun-lit pasture field, with cattle and horses feeding;
And haze, and vista, and the far horizon, fading away.
Walt Whitman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
A Farm-Picture
THROUGH the ample open door of the peaceful country barn,
A sun-lit pasture field, with cattle and horses feeding;
And haze, and vista, and the far horizon, fading away.
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An Apple from Walt Whitman
There's never been a poet where I live,
but I grew up in the shade of Whitman's name:
born in West Hills—our hills—he would have walked
our paths along the crest. I walked Whitman Road,
crashed the Whitman Drive-In, stole a book
from the sci-fi rack at the Melville-Whitman Pharmacy,
even played lacrosse against Whitman High;
we lost three times, the guys from Halfway Hollow,
to young men with Whitman in white on their varsity jackets.
My mother tells a story about Thanksgiving,
back when kids went begging in rags and blackface:
how Carrie Wicks's sister said she got
an apple from Walt Whitman, right at his house,
an old man with a beard. The big kids laughed,
knowing the white-haired caretaker was no one.
I set no foot inside the Whitman House
or Leaves of Grass till after I went away,
but I'm better having grown up with the name,
the house and hills of a poet everyone knew,
a poet big enough in the mothers' stories
for a girl to believe he came to the door with a long
white beard and smiled and handed her an apple.
If a poet the size of Whitman named our few
square miles and a few in Jersey it's going to take
a lot more big ones to hand us all a welcome
sweet as a Thanksgiving apple from Walt Whitman,
white-haired care-taker, seed of mothers' stories,
Appleseed of our poetry: nourishment, shade.
poem by Eric Torgersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Silvery Beauty Vavroovahana Patra
Innocent silvery beauty passes on the way;
Poet beholds the beauty of Beauty with gay.
The creation of Nature is alluring;
Innocent Beauty is dazzling.
Beautiful face allures passes by;
Allures lovers with gay.
Beauty is the creation of Almighty;
Beholding, poet derives gaiety.
Beauty tranquilises poet's mind on the way;
Poet derives profound peace with gay.
Curly crisp wavy long cloudy hairs entice the poet;
Mind remains in the world of peace with delight.
Innocent beautiful face allures the poet in evening;
Poet's mind is delighting.
With a little conversation mind is peaceful;
Her sweet talk is delightful.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You Don't Have to Be a Christian to Love Christmas
You don't have to be a Christian to love Christmas,
It's a festival for all the girls and boys;
Even Buddha, meditatin' can hardly bear the waitin'
For jolly Santa and his bag of toys.
You don't have to be a Christian to love Christmas,
It's such fun to decorate the Christmas tree;
The Shinto in Japan and the kids of the Koran,
Their eyes light up when all the gifts they see.
You don't have to be a Christian to love Christmas,
It's a holiday for all the world to share;
The Druid and the Jain and the atheist down the lane
Are wrapping gifts for family everywhere.
You don't have to be a Christian to love Christmas,
There's a friendliness in everyone you meet;
The Hindu and the Wiccan can bake a sumptious chicken
And invite the Jewish family down the street!
poem by John Bliven Morin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Poet Became His Own Poetry
A POET BECAME HIS OWN POETRY
A poet became his own poetry
And all he could be
Was lines and lines and lines
Inside and outside
Lines and more lines
Off- rhymes
Finding a phrase
A metaphor
Hearing listening
To sounds
His own mind made.
A poet became his own poetry
And went into the long sleep
Of being only what he wrote.
No one can know how
Reading these lines now
The poet and the poetry live
without themselves.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Missing Pages
I am but a man thrown into
this world
which means i do not know
where i came from
nor where i would be going to
this mysterious world and worlds
my mind stuck between all the planes
all men set to journey
through this world
laden with things known, unknown
all men having to read himself
like a torn book
pages lost here and there
so much to guess about
so many assumptions made
correct, incorrect
the beauty of this world
so much to discover
without and within
this strange
more than dynamic inlaid system
deep in the human realm
that launches itself
whenever world civilisation
needs a revolution, a saviour
this dynamism that is capable of
assuming a separate identity
when salvation is needed
this separate entity
stored with all moral fibres
that reflect us to ourselves
our standing, our growth,
that checks and balances
our foibles, indulgences
that separate entity
which is within ourselves
part of ourselves
which we call a higher consciouness
That separate entity
that launches so many religions
in the world
its similar message
cutting through humanity
inlaid, inlaid, inlaid
now who is the next person
to launch the world correcting gear
is christ coming back? Koran part two?
i read myself like a torn book
guessing at all the missed pages
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This Poet Is Always Beside You
You are reading my poem but,
This poet is never known;
However, this poet is always beside you.
I am on your lips and,
I am in your mouth;
I am in your heart and,
I am in your mind;
Because, this poet is always beisde you.
This poet writes and others read,
This poet speaks and others listen,
And this poet is always beside you;
But, this poet is never known.
The works of this poet are on the internet,
And, they are being read by many! !
But, this poet is never known;
However, this poet is always beside you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
But if cattle and horses or lions had hands, or were able to draw with their hands and do the work that men can do, horses would draw the forms of the gods like horses, and cattle like cattle, and they would make their bodies such as they each had themselves.
quote by Xenophanes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Freehold On The Plain
I'm a broken-down old squatter, my cash it is all gone,
Of troubles and bad seasons I complain;
My cattle are all mortgaged, of horses I have none,
And I've lost that little freehold on the plain.
The stockyard's broken down, and the woolshed's tumbling in;
I've written to the mortgagees in vain;
My wool it is all damaged and it is not worth a pin,
And I've lost that little freehold on the plain.
I commenced life as a squatter some twenty years ago,
When fortune followed in my train;
But I speculated heavy and I'd have you all to know
That I've lost that little freehold on the plain.
I built myself a mansion, and chose myself a wife;
Of her I have no reason to complain;
For I thought I had sufficient to last me all my life,
But I've lost that little freehold on the plain.
And now I am compelled to take a drover's life,
To drive cattle through the sunshine and the rain,
And to leave her behind me, my own dear loving wife
We were happy on that freehold on the plain.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Earth! my Likeness!
EARTH! my likeness!
Though you look so impassive, ample and spheric there,
I now suspect that is not all;
I now suspect there is something fierce in you, eligible to burst
forth;
For an athlete is enamour'd of me--and I of him;
But toward him there is something fierce and terrible in me, eligible
to burst forth,
I dare not tell it in words--not even in these songs.
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Censure Burners Of Books
The official British Government ban
on disgraced radical intolerant pastor
Terry Jones is appropriate justified.
A burn a Koran day campaign is wrong.
How would this ignorant pastor react
if Muslims burned Bibles in retaliation?
Is it not written thou shalt not judge?
Has Jones not heard of love thy neighbour?
Jesus said blessed are the peacemakers.
Burning religious books is not sowing peace.
If your neighbour slaps you turn the other cheek.
Jesus did not say slap your neighbour’s cheek.
Did Jones not learn after book burning Hitler?
Burning books Holy books leads to burning cities.
Be not like fool Jones cast not the first stone.
No true Christian or Muslim chews a hate bone.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God's Poet Tom & A Good Poem = 2012
GOD'S POET TOM
The prize jewels of any nation
Are the philosophers of the heart.
How they think is universal
For it's God who makes them so smart.
Most poets tell the truth of life
Though they may wrap it in beauty.
It's their passion, not their purpose
To compose is but their duty.
Poets have no reason to lie
When the truth is always so clear.
All that others say and do
Is but food for the poet's ear.
One merit of a poet's work
Which most cannot deny.
They say more and in fewer words
To illuminate you and I.
God sent His poets down to earth
With words of wisdom and of worth.
That they might touch the souls of men
And bring them back to Him again.
A GOOD POEM
A good poem paints a picture
For both your heart and brain.
It doesn't need a second chance
To make its meaning plain.
A good poem is like the flower
The lily or the rose.
God plants it in a poet's brain
And there its beauty grows.
A good poem like a cardinal
Is pregnant with song
You can't help but hear its message
As it sings what's right or wrong.
A good poem helps us remember
What the joys of life are for
It makes us want to love someone
Till death comes knocking at our door.
GOD'S POET TOM ZART
The Lord can close doors no man can open
And open doors no man can close.
It's up to us to prove our Heavenly worth
By our lifetime example of the path we chose.
Tom's 465 Poems Are Free To Share!
By God's Poet
Tom Zart
Most Published Poet
On The Web!
Tom Zart www.internetvoicesradio.com/t_zart/
http: //www.veteranstodayforum.com/viewforum.php? f=38
'To book Tom Zart for guest appearances, product, or services, contact Raymond L. LaPietra-Exclusive Personal Manager,913-681-7750 (office) , [email protected] (e-mail) , www.careerimages.com (website) ,8802 W.147th Terrace Overland Park, Kansas 66221.'
Before a Poetry Reading
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I'm feeling nervous but I mustn't show it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I hope to heaven that I won't blow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I mustn't reveal that I'm a second-rate poet!
I'm only a rhymer, but they don't know it!
If you've got no talent you'll have to grow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Old Joe The Black Cattle Dog
Old Joe the black cattle dog has known a better day
Around his jaws he is looking rather gray
He still works cattle but at a much slower pace
A young dog is being trained to take his place,
Old Joe a great cattle dog from a great working line
Is getting old for working cattle at nine
Though still keen to work nowadays he easily tire
The old legs tiring though he still has the desire
To work at cattle but his owner Jimmy say
That Joe is nearing his final working day
He will retire him he has done enough
At his age working cattle for him is too tough
He was a renowned working dog in his prime
But dog and master must bow to father time.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The proof of a poet is that his country absorbs him as affectionately as he has absorbed it.
Walt Whitman in Leaves of Grass (1855)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In Likeness of You!!!
My dearest friend
And in likeness of you
And in all that you've done
And all that I will do!
You are my mentor,
my anchor, and my sail
And in likeness of you
Your dreams will prevail.
A song so upbeat,
positive and true.
I do this to honor
The likeness of you.
poem by M. Rene Riel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Well, it is true that they did - the Pentagon did impose rules for governing the handling of the Koran in January of 2003, after there had been complaints about the handling of the Koran from detainees, from the International Red Cross.
quote by Michael Isikoff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Innocent Beauty Vavroovahana Patra
Innocent beauty lives below the mountain;
Enjoys the beauty of the fountain.
Magnifies the beauty of Nature;
With sweet conversation contents poet’s desire.
Innocent Beauty is a beautiful flower;
In the lap of Nature is a lovely creature.
Her innocence provides inspiration;
She is a cosy rosy Beauty in the lap of Creation.
A little sweet conversation delights the poet day and night;
He is inspired to depict verses with delight.
Derives peace and pleasure;
Derives peace from the lap of Nature.
Beauty passes on the path delightfully;
Poet depicts poems gaily.
Enchants enjoying the Beauty;
She is a Brook of Gaiety.
Vernal Sun beam provides gay;
Beauteous looks the vernal day.
People enchant delightfully;
Poet surrenders on Mother’s feet gaily.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All Day Long/I Have Been Walking And Thinking
ALL DAY LONG / I HAVE BEEN WALKING AND THINKING
All day long
I have been walking and thinking
Trying to write a poem.
And the lines are not lines
And the poem is not a poem
And the poet is not a poet.
And as the Jerusalem winter wind
Quickens my soul
And the sun flashes at me
The beauty of this world,
I know I have wasted my life
On what was beyond me.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!