Poem about Poetry - Good that Poetry never really sells

good that poets never really
make money from their craft

it's a blessing in disguise
as poetry is a sacred art
money demeans it, making it
cheap rather than dear

poetry seeks men to partake
in a private journey with god
to mark his grace and terrains

and - never readers - who have
to find their own way there - to the poets
to part take in the adventures
optional though they are for poetry
meant more for evolution of souls

they can be kept in drawers
and still have their functions fulfilled

the poets who day by day,
poem by poem see themselves
coming nearer to understanding
the scheme of things of the Divine One

petal by petal their mind too
has opened and emits soft fragrance
to enlighten all who care to be around

gold and silver
- the Forbidden Apple in Paradise -
if allowed would cause many to go astray

out of their temple they would look
for gold rather than in for their god

when that happens, a million readers
will not salvage the real value of poetry

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There Are A Few Poets

THERE ARE A FEW POETS

There are a few poets
Beyond the poetry you and I know
And are capable of –

There are a few poets
Who seem to write a poetry
Which is Poetry itself,
A Poetry which is everything Poetry should be-

Those poets are somewhere else
On a level far beyond any we can hope to reach-
They are Poetry –

And we we are the little listeners and readers
Who can in awe and praise worship
What we ourselves will forever be incapable of.

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Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !

Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !
Why are we addicted to Poetry?
We Poets who write,
All day or all night,
That Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !

There’s scarce a moment in time,
That thoughts don’t find words in rhyme,
To put into verse,
Whether better or worse,
In that Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !

Why do we write all these Verses?
We must have better things to do,
But whatever we try,
And I don’t know why,
We write Poem upon Poem for you.

It’s funny how my style has changed,
It’s a Limerick today I’ve composed,
It wasn’t meant to be,
But it is ~ you can see,
Just Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !

© Yisroel Yonatan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 26 January 2006

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For All The Poets

FOR ALL THE POETS


This is a poem for all the poets who have no name,
For all those who have written and failed,
And for those who have not written,
And failed.

This is a poem for all the poets who dreamed themselves poets,
And were never, and will be known as poets
To the world.

This a poem for all those
Who after years of effort
Still live in an oblivion
They will die in.

This is a poem for all those
Who whether they have poetry in them or not,
Will never be heard or read,
For what their hearts must tell
Someone else.

This is a poem for all the silent poets
Those who live in silence
And whose silence is eternal
For all those whose only poetry
is the poem they have lived within themselves.

This is a poem for all those who would- be poets
And a poem for those
Who despite their efforts
Did not make their poem known.

This is a poem which may be for you,
And I know is for me
A confession
To make us less alone.

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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

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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.

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Private Poetry

Every poem, Every poetry,
Where are all the poets?
Hiding out, Hiding away.

In the beaches, forests,
In the caves and rooms,
In the islands and temples.

Make their private poetry,
Every now and then,
Here and there,
Over here, Over there.

Somewhere, somewhen,
Someone, somebody,
No one, No body,
Some here, some there.
Somehow, not matter how,

Everywhere, every when,
Every turn, every look,
Every search, every research,
There is a private poet.

Making a private poetry,
Writing private poems,
Writing lovely poems,
Writing profound poetries.

For the world and all
To ponder,
To reflect,
To open our heart,
To hear and listen;

What poets have
To say and write,
In a private poetry,
For the world to read
And treasure.

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Who Defines Meaning In A Poem?

readers impose
meaning on poems
poets especially

more than writers
of other forms
of literature
or journalism
rely on their poems
having slightly

or even greatly
different meanings
to different readers

there is no absolute
interpretation of a poem
but rather levels
and a series
of meanings
if appropriate

the theme form
and content
may be best

expressed in tones
which not
all readers
will accept
or be
comfortable with

humour entertains
and poetry
may reflect

analyze or inform
with insight
individual tastes
differ and we
all have our favourite
poets styles themes

our unifying principle
is an endearing love
appreciation of poetry

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Poets and Poetry

Poets love writing poetry Poetry releases there feelings there are all kinds of poetry, but poetry is in all life nothing can change that. Poets and Poetry is always around us this poetry is about poetry so you decide if you want poetry in your life.

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An act of poetry

Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry

A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art

Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation

Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:

The pen be our salvation.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010


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There Are Times/ When The Poetry Of The Poem

THERE ARE TIMES/ WHEN THE POETRY OF THE POEM

There are times
When the poetry of the poem,
And the poetry of the poet
Are poetry.

But there are too times
When the poetry of the poet
And the poetry of the poem
Are not poetry.

There are times
When all the poetry,
And all the poets in the universe
Do not make the world a poem.

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Egoism of Poets

We don’t write poetry,
Poetry writes us.
How can we make poetry,
If we are part of poetry.
The world around us is poetry.
Poetry is already defined.
Calling ourselves poets.
Selfishness in every line.
Egoism in every word.
Stealing poetry from the world.
That already exists in every form.
It’s written in every mist,
Every tree, every bliss.
Who are we to write?
Calling ourselves masterminds.
Trapping ourselves in believe
That we are creating something unique
The world at our feet.
Just too full fill our need.
Even this poem is an act
of a selfish deed.
Every letter in ink.
Created through love and sin.
Writing on a paper
But it’s the world’s skin.
Pressing on the surface.
To see blue blood is our purpose.
Thinking poetry is ours.
Poetry devoured
By poets every hour.
Poems all around us.
Turning grey to dust.
Turning brown to rust.
We have captured the most
But there is still so much.
Bleeding away in disaster, poverty
And war.
Ink to us all.
A poet’s only lord.
His only norm, his only home.
His precious and beloved poem.


We should be ashamed.

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Hunting or Fishing?

Hunting or fishing – which is better?
That is what I am thinking about!
In business many hunt for customers;
Some men prefer casting net to catch fish!
Even for poets the position is the same
In poetry websites to catch readers!
Some lay wise traps to catch readers!
I use fishing rod with a needle and bait
To catch readers who can understand!

Whether the rank is high or low it is
Immaterial but the true comment is!
Hunting readers to comment and rank
Or fishing readers to comment and rank
Are not really going to enhance one’s status;
For, voluntary comments are indeed valuable!
Poets are jealous to appreciate others’ merit
But some poets raise the status of others!
So, letters to such poets increase sans end!
This is the status of poetry websites now!
So, it is left to you to hunt or fish or lay trap
As you wish to catch readers for rank, etc.!

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A Fun Or Fate Poetry Writing?

Poetry writing has become a matter of fun!
With play of words many indulge in this fun;
Fun without fact will make poetry quite inept.
Fun or fate, some write poetry with true fact!

There are many things for them to have fun,
But it has become easy to play in poetry sites.
Also there are comments, voting and ranking;
These make them play this game regularly!

Fact is some are born poets in these sites also!
It is quite true some become poets sooner here!
Also it happens that some are branded as poets!
So goes the survival of these sites by this fun!

No poetry can survive long without fun and fact;
Fun or fate, poetry has become a part of life ever!

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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?

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Poetry That Belongs Only To Poets

POETRY THAT BELONGS ONLY TO POETS

Poetry that belongs only to other poets
Is not the highest poetry-
The highest poetry speaks to all
Who can hear and read it-

Let the specialists play their formal tricks for educated sophistry
The poets who speak to us
Are heard in the most simple heart.

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quotes From Poets On Poetry

** QUOTES FROM POETS ON
POETRY

The great Shakespeare in his ‘A Midsummer
Night’s Dream’,
Speaks of poetry as ‘forms of things unknown,
The poet’s pen turns them to shape,
And gives to airy nothing a local habitation
and a name’!
John Ashbery had always felt, that ‘poetry
all the time goes on in his head’, -
And ‘occasionally he snips off a length’!
For Coleridge, ‘prose is arrangement of words
in their best order’,
But ‘poetry is the best words in their best order’!
For Paul Engle, poetry is ‘ordinary language
raised to the N-th power’,
While for William Wordsworth it is a continuous
shower, -
And ‘a spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings,
Of emotions recollected in tranquility’, - is fairly
healing!
Shelley in his ‘Defense of Poetry’ sincerely felt,
That ‘poetry lifts the veil, from the hidden beauty
of the world’,
Making ‘the familiar objects be as if they were
not familiar’!
While Carl Sandburg speaks of poetry as, -
‘The journal of a sea animal living on land,
Wanting to fly in the air’, - as high as it possibly
can!
Robert Graves declared rather candidly, -
That ‘if there’s no money in poetry’, one need
not feel sorry,
Since there is ‘neither any poetry in money’!
I conclude with Robert Frost, who always felt,
That writing a ‘poem is discovering as he
progressed’,
Since for him, ‘poetry never had a pre-meditated
end’!
-Raj Nandy
New Delhi
26 Feb 09
(** The words of our famous poets/authors, have
been placed in ‘inverted commas’.)

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Poetry On The Chin

You gouged my mind's eye,
Tantalised all inner thought,
Shocked from unknown angles;
Sold me, told me cold,
Unfolded, moulded;
Shouldered any harbouring
Of empty morals.

You spun me round; undressed -
Pestered me with background riddle -
Piffle came to gleaning meaning.
And you stripped out prejudice - for none
Must exist in poetry,
Lest you close up an open mind
And f**k up as reader;
Lest your heart is not a bleeder -
It has to be - let it flush out
Upon your sleeve.

You lay apart my thinking brain
And let in the literary pickings of a
Great poetic phallus.
Yes, poetry can be callous.


Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2010


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The Moderns

To many reading modern poetry more interesting the meaning in the metaphors they seek to find
They feel it makes their brains work that much harder that it is good exercise for the mind
Rhyme for their great brains seems that bit too simple it does not test their thinking power at all
'Tis not a poem to them if it seems simple and the meaning in it easy to recall,
Yes rhyme for them it does seem that bit simple and deciphering it to them is not a test
The hidden meaning in the metaphors is something that does seem to try them best
Rhyme poetry to them is too simple and far too easy for to understand
It has to be blank verse with dozens of metaphors for their interest for to command
They look on rhyme and bush poets as inferior their preference in poets and poetry they make known
On literature they air their opinions like it is said to each their own
Their poetry evenings do seem quite exclusive rhyme poets to read they never do invite
Their unmusical lines that are laced with metaphors to each other they do recite
They do not like rhyme or they do not like bush poetry to them it is of another time
And in their poetry evenings there is no place for the men and the women of rhyme.

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A Change Of Time!

A change of time changes everything in life!
Glorious poetry turned into prose for use earlier;
Stories, novels and articles ruled prominent;
With the coming of computer poetry resurrected!

Now everybody enjoys indulging in poetry for fun;
Articles, stories and novels are superseded by poetry!
Many poetry websites entertain new poets daily;
Many enjoy poetry reading and writing at anytime!

Poetry has become cheap product for all to use;
Nobody thought that such a thing could happen!
Nobody buys poetry books but novels and magazines;
Is poetry a use and throw material only in market now?

The things that cannot be expressed in stories, novels
Are done in poetry to satisfy heart, thought and spirit!

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On The Goddess Of Poesy

The Goddess of Poesy the Goddess of Song
To the Universal immortals she surely belong
The poets of the World her praises do sing
The gift of poetry to their souls she does bring.

The poets to write poems Goddess Poesy inspire
And of singing her praises they don't seem to tire
The poetry of sorrow the poetry of joy
The poetry of youth of the young girl and boy.

The poetry of youthfulness and of growing old
Of young women in their prime lovely to behold
The beauty of Nature the birds and the bees
The mammals and fishes of land and of seas.

The Goddess of poets of every gender race and creed
For their inspiration to write in her lives her they need
Of love, life and Nature she inspires poets to write
For the lovers of poetry to read and recite.

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