Artificial Verse - Parody William Cowper and Lucianus- Artificial Beauty
You give your verse a prosy st[r]ain,
with stress complete the air,
but vain attempts too often strain
and stress is in the air.
Those discords mock your daily toil,
no editors efface them,
and as blank lines from blank uncoil
its difficult to face them.
An art so fruitless then forsake –
which though you’d fain excel in –
you never may contrive to make
both form and sense flow well in.
8 December 1991
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
On A Similar Character (From The Greek)
You give your cheks a rosy stain,
With washes dye your hair;
But paint and washes both are vain
To give a youthful air.
Those wrinkles mock your daily toil,
No labor will efface 'em,
You wear a mask of smoothest oil,
Yet still with ease we trace 'em.
An art so fruitless then forsake,
Which though you much excel in,
You never can contrive to make
Old Hecuba young Helen.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blank
Blank pages, blank lines
Blank heart, blank mind
Blank feeling, blank soul
Blank high, blank low.
I dont know why
You just cant see
That all you've ever known
Is the blank side of me.
Blank
I wish I was blank
I wish I was blank
I wish I could thank
I wish I was blank
I'd write a letter to you
And there'd be nothing to it
I wouldn't hem and haw
On just how to start it
I wish I was blank
I wish I was blank
I wish I could thank
I wish I was blank
I wish I'd stand up straight
I wish I'd said things different
I wish I'd said nothing
Things would be so perfect
I wish myself to keep
I pray my soul to sleep
I wish myself away
I wish I was blank
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins from The Aeroplane Flies High
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
With What the Stress Has Taught
Though I have not a reason for my stress
The world begins to test me once again...
I love my life but now I must confess
That I would not mind if it were to end.
The mental tension has my life confined
And there is no nepenthe for my strain,
But still the life I love does ask my mind
To burn and blacken out in daily pain.
Why must the burden be too large to bear?
Why does it snap the spirit like a twig?
Why does the mind commit to such affairs
That give us but another grave to dig?
Though stress ignites the hell within my thoughts,
My life improves with what the stress has taught.
Blank Page
Blank page leave me be!
Blank page please stop taunting me,
reminding me of what I have failed to do.
Oh how I long to fill you,
to take up your very last line
with creative, riveting lyrics of mine.
Blank page stop harassing me!
I wish to show you my thoughts,
desires, emotions and all.
How difficult it is to answer your call.
Blank page how sweetly you whisper
tempting my pen to caress your paper.
I immaturely expect the verses to flow
then I realize that my thoughts are much too slow.
Blank page so often you defeat me
teasing and challenging until hours later
all that is left is the tiny dot
where my pen merely touched your paper.
poem by Shaqueena Celestin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stress removes stress
Stress your eyes to stare;
Stress your ears to listen;
Stress your brain to think;
Stress your belly to secrete.
Then they grow out of stress.
04.03.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stress and strain
To expect causes stress;
To accept eases stress.
To be aware brings strain;
To be away stalls strain.
27.12.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One-Armed Man (Play On)
Submerged in endless (trailing off)
I watch them fade by (sigh)
Lifeless and blank-faced (paining on)
I see...
The face I use to be
They want to feel this (straining on)
They want to sense this (now)
Drunk with existence (waking me)
I'll show you something (someone) you can feel
They search and strain and drink and stagger
They play on...but I'll never
song performed by by Project 86 from Drawing Black Lines
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The unwritten is also there
a blank paper
limitless as space
to fill the knowledge
here and beyond
and words of God
here, the learned plot
the stars, moon and universe
day and night
to the untutored
the blank paper might
as well be carrying space
limitless, enthralling
yet not fathomable
reachable
the blank page
catches the
essence of the mind
the written is there
the unwritten also there
if you could read
between the lines
if you could sense
the universal mind
the waves at sea
afford only a little view
of the power of the wind
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stress
When stress gets me, I’m not alone;
It strikes almost everyone;
Be they my kith or kin or spouse,
Relatives, neighbors near my house.
When stress attacks, I’m not alone,
It affects all known / unknown;
Be they friends or strangers or foes,
In office, class-room or indoors.
When stress hooks me, I transmit it
To those around by habit;
It spares no one, however great,
Almost everyone is its bait!
When stress gets me, I avoid it
And train my mind to remain fit;
Worrying, hurrying will not suffice;
Stress is a leading, lethal vice!
When stress gets me, I ignore it,
Expecting things to ease a bit;
A certain stress is good for health;
Ov’rstress is bad as excess wealth!
When stress gets me, I’m angry;
My house-hold pets too go hungry;
My garden plants get no water;
My world gets shrunk- it does matter!
When stress gets me, I can’t sleep;
Engulfed’s my heart in sadness deep;
I must relax/ do exercise;
This is the distressing device!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
There Is Nothing To Write
WELL, FACE THE BLANK WALL
STARE TO THIS BLANK WALL
THERE IS NOTHING TO THIS BLANK WALL
IT IS BLANK
IT IS EMPTY
IT IS A HINDRANCE TO WHAT I WANT TO SEE
IT IS AN OBSTRUCTION
TO WHAT I WANT TO BECOME
THIS WALL
THIS WALL IS MY JAIL
MY PRISON
MY BLINDNESS
THIS WALL MUST BE TORN
THIS WALL MUST BE BOMBED
THIS BLOCK
THIS WEARINESS OF THE HEART
THIS TIREDNESS OF THE SOUL
THIS MALADY OF BEING NOTHING
THIS HAVING NOTHING AT ALL
THERE IS NOTHING TO WRITE
THERE IS NOTHING
THERE IS
now i will write about something
from above
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The fact that something is in a rhymed form or in blank verse will not make it good poetry.
quote by Robert Morgan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Blank Pages
Blank pages
Blank books
Lie with only drowning white
No pretty messages in the sand
No clocks to turn a hand
Blank pages
Blank books
Looking into an empty void
Like staring at purgatory
Words with no meaning making up a story
Blank pages
Blank books
Stay staring at the celing
Empty without effort
Nothing without words
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ode to a Blank Page
Ode to a blank page
It’s blue seemingly thin lines flying across the page
Each producing a small space to place your thoughts on
Next lies the taunting red margin
Baring how sparsely you’ve done
You can strike the page with a single blow
Leaving a mark that did no good
Ode to a blank page
Why do you stare?
Taunting and shrieking in my ear
Emptiness fills the page
The blanks intimidate even the strong
How strong it is
To give a cut even to the toughest skin
Ode to a blank page
You know I’m jealous
How I despise all your characteristics
poem by Rachele ...duhh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Basically, my problem was attributed to stress more than anything. I don't know what that does and I guess doctors can tell you that there's chemicals that build up in your system when you go through a lot of stress and constant stress.
quote by Mike Ditka
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Where's My Inspiration?
I can not think.
My mind is at a gridlock.
Where’s my inspiration?
Boredom is highly overwhelming,
But then I think,
“A poem about boredom! ”
Stupid, huh?
But still,
I-can-not- think.
Where’s my inspiration?
I lie on my bed,
Mind empty.
I stare at the ceiling,
At the blank white wall.
Then I stare at my paper,
A blank white canvas.
But then I look closer
It isn’t blank.
It’s filled with lines,
And not just any lines,
BLUE lines.
They aren’t even solid either.
With closer inspection,
They are dotted.
Some even have breaks in them.
Well,
Look at that.
I’ve found my inspiration.
“What is it? ” You may think.
To tell the truth it’s nothing special.
My inspiration came from everywhere around me.
My closed mind soon opened up and spoke to my hand.
It’s funny how the mind works,
Don’t you agree?
poem by Devon McElveen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An Amateur Penner Is All I Can Be
An amateur penner is all I can be and my worth as a rhymer I doubt
But when you tell me there's music in blank verse I wonder what you are on about
I've always thought music has rhythm and rhyme and is married to rhyming song
But of literature and music I am not a judge and maybe I do have it wrong
The music in good rhyming poetry one sense at least that's how it does seem to me
But I'm leaving room for an argument here and some with me may not agree
But that's my opinion make of it what you may we all look at things differently
If we all looked at life in the very same way how dull and boring we would be
Some will tell you a songwriter is not a poet their opinion on that is different to mine
Like some are very happy to welcome the rain and some want the day warm and fine
You tell me that there is music in blank verse though I cannot see it that way
But your opinion on the matter is as good as mine and with me that is quite okay
Oh give me a song that is built of good rhyme that to music is easy to sing
With such I am happy for to sing along and I find it such a joyful thing.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Funny It Is!
Man is the creation of God
Machine is the creation of man
Man can be the master of machine
Funny it is he becomes its slave!
Man commands machine obeys
Machine demands man obeys
Man percieves machine performs
Funny it is he rarely transforms!
Man has his stress and strains
Machine has its stress and strain
Animal has its stress and strain
Funny it is man alone despairs!
Man thinks faster acts slow
Machine thinks not but acts fast
Man to control and machine to be controlled
Funny it is he feels weaker than the controlled!
poem by Subbaraman N V
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Generation Gap for M lady Dee Daffodil
I wonder why some parents try
to make their children satisfy.
Ambitions they did not achieve.
A subtle form of child abuse
which proves to be of little use.
It seems such parents can’t conceive.
Their children may not want to be
what they desire so fervently.
Apparently they can’t believe.
Their children will point blank refuse
to fall in with parental views.
Because their children don’t perceive
the world the way their parents do.
They have a different pint of view.
Which does not do much to relieve.
The stress and tensions which arise
until they reach some compromise.
It can be done I do believe.
11-Jan-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Facing a Blank: Part 1
I sit here facing a blank
and it is perhaps one of the hardest things I do
to see before me an expanse of blank things
to decide how I should fill them in
there is everything to encompass
for all the world to see, itself looking back
a mirror wouldn't do,
because the truth merely hides behind mirrors
it does not look out through them.
every random thought that I notice out of the corner of my eye
has its own appeal and appeals to me
to use it to fill the blank spaces.
To every random thought I look and in them I see the world
every one of them looking out at me and crying
for recognition and redemption
and the blank spaces agree that this is not what I should put down.
So I sit here still, facing a blank.
poem by Poet Dragon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!