Hidden Emphasis - Acrostic Sonnet – Ideogram Images
Incorporating verse in gilded frame
Does not, as such, suffice, - vice to conform.
Each should follow conscience, - smile, rile, charm, scorn,
Open communication’s blinds. The aim: -
Grace, harmony, unite undying flame.
Reader reaching reads writer’s fact and form,
And from lettered morse ex…tracts the uniform.
Melts surface mask, tunes head to heart too tame.
Impression web we spin, verse threads, to claim
Mankind for man, for freedom, and perform
A sacred quest whose source rejects the ‘norm’,
Grafts sixth sense insight rich which Norms prename.
Each line’s a coded thread ink linked through rhyme,
Song which should find a way to challenge Time.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
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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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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What Mission Now?
What mission may the poet still retain
Here in this day and age, which sees the world
As lost as ever, while mankind is whirled
Too fast, and at a pace few can sustain.
Most mask their feelings, shield themselves from pain,
In hope that though no psalms are skywards skirled
Some light can filter through cocoons which, curled,
Shut out most aspirations, which remain
Ideals Man thinks he ought to seek. In vain
Or so it seems, the flag of hope unfurled
Now braves the insults philistine which, hurled,
Nor spare nor temper the poetic vein.
One voice, when clear, will break the glass of Time,
What matter if in free-verse or in rhyme?
Whenever rhyme is crafted on ideas
Heart tunes to rhythm, can effect enhance
Allowing invitation to a dance
That adds dimensions in way that clears
Muddy waters - often verse appears
In ways which heighten, lighten, help advance
Subtle emphasis where words through Chance
Seem to stream together. Inner ears
Intuitive may key to song that steers
Over prose bound limits, elegance
Neat meanings adding through rhyme's happenstance
No forms need hamper thought where heart heart cheers.
Open mind behind the [t]racing pen
Will channel words creating worlds again...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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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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Three Weeks
Week one may span eternity as Time
Effect and Cause entwine in timeless thread,
Ending endings, - sequencing sublime
Karmic conscience wakes from fountainhead.
One week begins a journey which, through rhyme,
Now overflows from fiction, looks ahead,
Extends to fact - intact can mountains climb.
Words worlds link, inklings ink and paper wed,
Expelling inconsistencies as verse,
Empowers threads whick knit what’s said, what’s read,
Knows no inhibitions, must reverse
The litanies of habit most rehearse
While heart to heart, once far apart, are lead
Over storms to calm as cares disperse.
Week three we welcome now with open arms
Each greeting each will meet sweet dreams sans dread,
Efforts rewarded soon shall be instead.
Kaleidoscopic and eternal charms
Triumph over former fears or qualms
Harmony and happiness ahead
Restore flawed confidence some chip embed,
Extend warm welcome where love on love fed, -
Ever blossoms equal, begs no alms...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Inscription from Free Verse Free - 1548
Read rare response in script alliteration
Ease of flow's quintessence with insight
Sharing sows, - no picayune tune blight,
Or spilt ink despite modernization,
Nor undecided prose pose-pour oration.
As mannequins, lines anorexic quite
Try vers libre leaf on verse tree's bright delight
Each unaware in French 'vers' true translation
Shows 'stripped' 'line' 'worms' 'to', 'at', 'round' 'verse' narration.
Concentrate as resonate wor[l]ds light
Resplendent in their story's glory's flight,
Ideas spin through this contest dedication.
Pictures metaphorical employ
Threads, word bank rich, in stitches this enjoy.
(2 January 2007)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Who stands with me?
True poets write in meter.
Not because they think it’s neater
but because the flow is sweeter
When their words are read aloud
as they perform before the crowd.
Their poems pass the acid test.
Prose writers do not choose to rhyme.
They see it as a waste of time.
Although their word choice is sublime.
Without meter it is prose,
not poetry as they suppose.
Their definition I contest.
Poetic prose it’s plain to see.
Can not be classed as poetry.
I can accept you disagree.
I know I have a biased view
I think I am entitled to
Decide which one I like the best.
I choose meter every time
Preferably with lines that rhyme.
I find such poetry sublime.
Though I enjoy well written prose.
Each to his own I must suppose
So write the way that suits you best.
I am old fashioned I admit
and not one whit ashamed of it.
I do not find rules inhibit.
Free expression of my views
They merely mean I have to choose
the words that will express them best
Free form, free verse, poetic prose.
Are methods other writers chose
as being fit for their purpose.
To rebel against fixed form.
Which was regarded as the norm.
Just to be different from the rest.
But fashions change and now free form
Must be regarded as the norm.
I see no reason to conform.
I choose to write my poetry
In the old way that pleases me.
A lonely voice raised in protest.
The wheel of fate will slowly turn
Metered poetry will return
and well deserved plaudits earn.
I hope I live to see the day.
when classic poets can display.
That fixed forms can outshine the rest.
Monday,06 December 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alankar(Decor) -75
Hail To Thee Shanmukha -(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.
3 Chain Verse can be written
with the last line of the stanza repeated
as the first line of the next stanza.
----
1
Hail To Thee Shanmukha
Eyes open still blind
Blindly desiring transience
Transiently fallen into nescience
Nescient mind footing on
Onwith the five senses gowned
Gowned into a devilkin.
Devilkin of slighted senses
Senselessy tones down the man
Maneuvering to vicious listen, sight and taste
Tasting venomous touch and puff
Puffed up with sins.oh, lo!
Low in a chasm of sickly fear.
Fear-stricken, panic and punished
Punishment in murk dreadful
Fully the man, off his sixth sense
Sensible now does he cry heart out
Outburst much felt is heard
Heard by Thee Shanmukha, saviour of senses.
Senses six embodied Shanmukha, by Thou heads
Headed off this man by himself misled
Leader Thee! kindly reclaim his virtue
virtuously as Thee did Arunagiri
Girishwar, gyre, gyre.Erase evil; implant good
Good-heartedly invoke human senses.
Senses alive be them in Thy bliss
Blissfully be them in Thy elation
Elated are we at Thy sight
Sightful six faces, twelve hands
Hands full of boons all time conferring
Conferred are we to extole Thy presence
'Presenting one face wisdom, the second dispassion
Passionately the third strength, the fourth wealth
Wealthily the fifth powers divine
Devout balance the sixth to our minds'
Mind-blowing, Thee riding the peacock envisioned
Visual so spectacular, a twelve-handed Saviour!
Saviour, Shanmukha! hail to Thee! praises!
poem by Indira Renganathan
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I Am Searching For A Verse
I am searching for a verse
that is somewhat different and unhindered,
of which the words are pure and without blemish,
that gives more light than a flaring candle
something monumental into which I do not press any words
but where it flows freely from its own accord,
where no political correctness hinders any ideas,
where I do not deviate when a great poet grind his teeth to me
a verse that pierces the heart of a reader,
that caries something of my humanity
and nowhere I can find it but to focus my eyes on You
and this searching is a funny thing,
a searching for a type of unique song
with an outer-worldly insight.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Initial Attraction
What lies beneath the surface smile?
which you display to everyone?
The mask you wear to be in style.
What lies beneath is yours alone.
Does it indicate interest?
What lies beneath the surface smile?
And will I perhaps pass the test
enjoy your company for a while.
Is it a sign of practiced guile?
or simple act of self defence.
What lies beneath the surface smile?
Must I rely on my sixth sense?
My need to know grows more intense
I am prepared to wait awhile
to try and gain your confidence.
What lies beneath the surface smile?
(poeticpiers/20/07/2007)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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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Incompleteness
Verse cannot completely trace
one fair reflection where the light
leaves an impression of such grace
that words, found wanting, seek insight
to reunite with spirit bright,
yet every line links to disgrace
when compared, when second sight
seeks to satisfy both pace
and sense of fitness which replace
the commonplace that must indict
the great part of the human race,
read here both truth and envy's spite.
Yet who'll, on reading this, believe
here's no intention to deceive?
(18 May 2005)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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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)
Mad For Poetry
When your brain becomes befuddled,
You don't do all that's right,
Like computers when they're muddled,
Going slow and none too bright.
Like some lovely information
That's there yet can't be traced,
Then the constant consternation,
Still there or now erased?
The mind plays tricks before collapse,
Solutions ready-made,
Like brand new answers filling gaps
Because the truths have strayed...
It's then I turn to poetry,
For hope inside some verse,
As if the poets penned for me
Some sentiments to nurse...
So I'll sit down and go online
For thoughtful thoughts to read
That God has somehow helped design
So that I, too, take heed...
Some funny rhyme will lift my heart,
I'll giggle for a while
And God grants me a brand new start,
As if to make me smile...
Sometimes I'll write a poem, too!
Perhaps a dream to share,
Or some insight, some point of view,
Some words that form a prayer...
My publisher will then decide,
To publish or to ditch,
So far, this fact I'd rather hide,
I don't think I'll get rich...
But poetry has helped me out,
It's like a part-time friend
Reminding me what life's about
And secrets God can send...
Another poet shares his life,
His moments good and bad
And how he's conquered all his strife,
Been healed and now he's glad...
The world's so full of pilgrim souls,
One life to live on Earth,
One life that only God controls,
That's planned before our birth...
The good, the bad, the in-between,
The humdrum days as well...
And from the poems that I've seen,
What stories God could tell!
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.
The poem's based on learning that here in the UK
there's the Community Channel on Sky Digital 539,
which is currently sharing a show that's called
Mad For Poetry. People telling us how they've
been affected by some writer's poetry...
If the writer's been blessed and the reader's been
blessed, that's what I call The Double Blessing.
poem by Denis Martindale
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I Am No Poet
A poet... oh i am? , says I,
Perhaps it's what you think
Just mixed up words of life I cry
Like someone on the brink
Mere words assembled in a row
From thoughts a few of many
labelled then a poet so
Though none worth but a penny
I speak as though my mind should find
My head in quite a spin
With rhymes and verse a peace I find
That life could ne'er begin
That label sticks and holds me back
A form I have to follow
A fear of literary attack
Can leave my words quite hollow
So cast me not as just a poet
Sense that i am fighting
I'm more than that and you should know it
That's why i keep writing..
poem by Dave James
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Three Sheets To The Wind
Verse 1
Isn't it about time
yes, I've played this part before
I can recall each line
I'll cry out-Don't go
and you turn and walk away
I scream out-what about our yesterdays
knowing inside
this heart is going to break
Chorus
And later on
here I'll be
lonely and blue-three sheets to the wind
Tryin' to wash you out of my head and heart
with another drink
another sad song playin' on the radio
Like Remember When and Three Sheets To The Wind
three sheets to the wind
Verse 2
So you don't have to pretend
honey, it's that same old story-heard it all before
Got all the information I need
facts are so easy to see
Even a blind man would know
it ain't you and I anymore
Chorus
And later on
here I'll be
lonely and blue-three sheets to the wind
Tryin' to wash you out of my head and heart
with another drink
another sad song playin' on the radio
Like Remember When and Three Sheets To The Wind
three sheets to the wind
Verse 3
Well it's okay
had it all figured out
just a matter of time
I'll smile-laugh out loud
go on down to Mexico
lay on the shores
Under that golden sun
and maybe I'll just go on
Chorus
And later on
here I'll be
lonely and blue-three sheets to the wind
Tryin' to wash you out of my head and heart
with another drink
another sad song playin' on the radio
Like Remember When and Three Sheets To The Wind
three sheets to the wind...
poem by Daniel Wittfoth
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Writer's Block!
Yes, these two words came into mind...
Wordpad opened again,
New Rich True Format Document,
Followed by Arial ten...
No text displayed as I perused,
The cursor blinking still...
In readiness for brand new words
My thoughts were yet to spill...
I typed the title, first thing done,
Two line gaps then the verse...
With not a word to lead the way,
It couldn't get much worse...
But then I thought, I'll add my name
And copyright as well,
Then type the date, as if to claim
There's nothing left to tell...
The poem stands, no words at all,
To summarise the theme,
As if the empty heart and mind
Had nothing there to dream...
But then I thought, that's such a waste!
I'll let the reader know,
That even nothing has its place
Before the words can flow...
And so, from nothing came these rhymes,
These thoughts upon a page,
Or PC screen each time I type
To reach another stage...
Who knows? The poem I write next
Could be a great success,
That may grant tremendous insight,
Some cherished happiness...
So Writer's Block, I've beaten you!
I've conquered every doubt!
God gave me something that's brand new
And now I've typed it out!
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spin
friday night, i jumped the line
clubbing with my girlfriends
it's our time to shine
throw a few bones, wlk a few dogs
hanging in the corner, drink and laugh a lot
suddenly there's you
and my heart starts beating
chorus:
spin - everybody's doin'it
spin - everybody's full of it
spin - working their show time,
cheap line, all i really want is a good time
working their....
spin - everybody's faking it
spin - everybody's diggin'it
don't give me that shop talk,
just stop and show me what you really got
verse 2:
so you got a cool ride,
you got your own crib
you work real hard,
put your money in the jar
and you're proud of it
you better not lie, cause i ain't no fool
spinning lies to hypnotize ain't what i do and
suddenly there's you
and my heart's still beating
repeat chorus
bridge:
(i'm real) - all i want is honesty,
(i feel) when someone good is close to me
(let me know) did this moment feel like destiny?
or just a freeze frame, mind game,
playing with my heart
(ad libs)
everybody's doin'it
everybody's full of it - spin
everybody's faking it
everybody's diggin'it - spin
repeat chorus (x2)
j. olsson j. schella j. barr
song performed by by Vanessa Amorosi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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As The Spirit Fills
Verse by verse and line by line; The Spirit fills the heart and mind.
The Spirit moves on a scribe, to pen the words down deep inside.
God uses men to reach the world, with a message for us to herald.
Some may speak while other men, The Lord above uses their pen.
Apostles would speak The Word, and men believed as they heard.
It was God’s Word they received, that would lead them to believe.
As New Believers they would go, and share so others could know,
The saving Grace of Jesus Christ, so they too could have New Life.
As The Truth began to spread, many would use parchment instead.
And The Truth many would heed, from words that they would read.
Either way, God’s Truth we share, with all those for whom we care.
Allow The Spirit to move your heart, so God’s Truth we can impart.
My friend, God will use anyone, to share The Truth about His Son.
Using any form of communication, to reach the lost with Salvation.
Join the Apostles and Prophets of old, sharing Truth till all are told,
About The Lord and Savior above, sent to all by The Father’s Love.
God still moves upon men today, helping us with the words to say,
For me the verses seem to flow, while The Spirit helps me to grow.
As I write the words aren’t mine, for my source is above and Divine.
It is The Spirit who fills my pen, and to this friend, I just say Amen.
(Copyright ©01/2006)