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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Related quotes
A Little Enation Alliteration
Picayune petite, of pettiness quintessence,
like mannequins lives thin, skin skims ph[r]ased evanescence.
can't resonate love's tenderness, affection,
hacks life's playback stage, say lacks, rage [d]reads rejection.
Undecided what or if perfection is
past views can't last, pale fast, fail to salve stale kiss,
saliva waste, spit taste split, writ far from alliteration, -
shrew[d] wed b[l]ed between romance, modernization.
Mysterious terrors blot Miss Error scripts remiss,
where bliss is absent from spilt ink ephemeris -
pop press page metaphorical cage for living -
lost insight, frost, - cost: no giving, no forgiving.
Where foresight, independent thoughts, held crime
Life feels not, knots farce, kriegspiel scarce sublime,
Man, maid, picayune, soon fade aware they wear dust fate:
Rictus fixed sticks, then Styx, mix most must warn too late?
poem by Jonathan Robin
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I can EMIT TIME
'I Can! ' EMIT TIME
Kindly Refer to Notes
.
.
This retourne shows how Time bright glows,
Inspiring plan Life offers man,
Maintains red rose, sustains verse, prose,
Egg, chicken, span, - ensure ‘I can! ’
TIME’s sum’s not dumb, repeating drum
Inspiring plan Life offers man,
May link ‘become’ through rule of thumb
EMIT true scan light once began.
The heart that sows is star that glows
In tune reel ran fed through rhyme’s fan,
Maintains red rose, sustains verse, prose,
Ends in well ran, begins “I can! ”
Time’s reel ebbs, flows, all comes and goes,
In caravan reversing scan
Much magic flows, touch insight knows,
Egg, chicken, span, - ensure ‘I can! ’
.
Egg, chicken, span, - ensure ‘I can! ’
Much magic flows, touch insight knows,
In caravan reversing scan, -
Time’s reel ebbs, flows, all comes and goes.
Ends in well ran, begins “I can! ”
Maintains red rose, sustains verse, prose,
In tune reel ran fed through rhyme’s fan, -
The heart that sows is star that glows.
EMIT true scan: light, once began,
May link, ‘become’ through rule of thumb,
Inspiring plan Life offers man.
TIME’s sum’s not dumb, repeating drum.
Egg, chicken, span, - ensure ‘I can! ’
Maintains red rose, sustains verse, prose,
Inspiring plan Life offers man.
This retourne shows how Time bright glows.
_________________________________
How Time bright glows This retourne shows.
Life offers man Inspiring plan,
sustains verse, prose, Maintains red rose.
Ensure ‘I can! ’ Egg, chicken, span.
Repeating drum, TIME’s sum’s not dumb,
Life offers man Inspiring plan
through rule of thumb, May link ‘become’,
light once began, EMIT true scan.
Is star that glows The heart that sows?
Fed through rhyme’s fan, In tune reel ran
sustains verse, prose, Maintains red rose,
begins “I can! ” Ends in well ran,
all comes and goes, Time’s reel ebbs, flows.
reversing scan In caravan, -
touch insight knows Much magic flows
Ensure ‘I can! ’ Egg, chicken, span.
Ensure ‘I can! ’ Egg, chicken, span,
touch insight knows. Much magic flows
reversing scan In caravan, -
all comes and goes, Time’s reel ebbs, flows.
Begins “I can! ” Ends in well ran,
sustains verse, prose, Maintains red rose
fed through rhyme’s fan, In tune reel ran -
is star that glows The heart that sows?
Light, once began, EMIT true scan
through rule of thumb. May link, ‘become’!
Life offers man Inspiring plan.
Repeating drum, TIME’s sum’s not dumb
Ensure ‘I can! ’ Egg, chicken, span
sustains verse, prose, Maintains red rose,
Life offers man Inspiring plan.
How Time bright glows This retourne shows.
© Jonathan Robin acrostic mirror retourne 3 February 2007
_______________
Author notes
Although this is shown as a double mirrored retourne the poem has been framed so as to alternate each and every line within any given stanza... although only in four cases can the acrostic palindrome EMIT TIME run throughout.
The Mirror effect enables the poem to be read top down TIME or bottom up EMIT - The Retourne is of course only mirrored in the mirror if one reads bottom up.
This offers a possibility of 4 x 4 x 12 x 64 combinations
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)
Pattern Patter Down Pat
Patterns form from harmony as verse
Attempts translation of emotions' span
To teach, to reach, to leach words' worlds, to fan
The essence of poetics and rehearse
Essential feelings crafted in lines terse.
Rare care, share sense, spare no expense to ban
Needless screed as witless also-ran
Empty ego's petty prose, immerse
Depth giving strange change range, fop's sops disperse.
Vantage point: holistic perspective scan,
Empower imagination's dripping pan.
Revise, re-draw, re-edit, intersperse
Strong rhythm, alliteration, stay on track
Expressing ideas ideally, pattern pack.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sonnet: Modern Poetry
Is modern ultimate in any field?
There’s no music or Rhyme in ‘Vers Libre’,
What could poems without melody yield?
It is a drab, uninteresting tray!
How long could readers read on free verses?
Invariably, it makes not much of sense;
’Tis like Mother Nature, treeless/ bird less!
’Tis like a gardenless house with a fence.
Oh, how good the yester-year poets were!
What beauty they showed by using meter?
Imagism cannot suffice, I fear!
Poems aren’t modern in the ‘vers libre’.
The older poems are the best to read;
The Blank verses for very long can’t lead.
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Against Modern Poetry
If Poetry is ‘right words in right place, ’
Blank verse is not the best of Poetry!
It has a rhythmless/ meterless pace;
Where is the passion, art and beauty?
In construction, ’tis simulating prose;
Rhymeless, it has no music and is mute;
Just images, ’tis unscented a rose!
Without melody is it called a lute?
Where are the logic and the argument?
’Tis a train run on a meterless gauge!
Where is the moral? Where is the accent?
‘Vers libre’ is a parrot in a cage!
It fades like any other ‘mod’ fashion;
’Tis not holistic art but a fraction!
poem by John Celes
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I’ve Lost One Verse With Tinkling Lines
I’ve lost one verse
With tinkling lines,
I’ve lost a verse,
It’s somewhere else…
I sought the leaf,
But couldn’t find,
Even from the disc
It vanished.
I cried and cried
For that little verse,
In my soul it lay
Like a winged word,
It lay there
Like grief and anguish.
That bright and sincere thought –
That verse remained in the past.
I’m tired of grief and sorrow,
Sorrow has seized me at last…
24.04.2006
Translated from Georgian
poem by Janri Gogeshvili
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Versatile Verse - Polyacrostic Sonnet
Vanity within a verse scheme gave
Each alphomega, each word's aura, ease.
Run through in print, as content rhymes to please,
Springs, rising sprightly, links few see, most crave.
Apart here thread we tight, taut, autoclave,
Tacit, yes, yet pate-play may seem tease.
In lines smooth I express this hidden frieze, -
Lucid keepsake, light, keen, subtle stave.
Emphatic theme expect, - interpret rave!
Vain verse-vine vile? Voice very vivid? Seize
Externals terse are shade, sense secret keys.
Rare is this art, rare verses are, - rhyme save.
A sonnet's stress sometimes less shows than's hid, -
Here's an example baring message grid.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Polyacrostic Palimpsest - Birthday Sonnet - Entered is Diary
Notes on Polyacrostic Palimpsests.
.
Acrostic: Verse in which certain letters form a word or message
Polyacrostic: Several acrostics within the same composition
Acrostics to be found below – in alphabetical order:
His hand her hand [twice vertically]
Entered in diary [twice vertically]
Tend a nice heart [3 times vertically] – hopefully not an ice heart
Tender is her heart [4 times diagonally]
Palimpsest: A manuscript on which more than one text is written
with earlier writing, or one level of meaning, partially visible.
Polyacrostic Palimpsest - Birthday Sonnet - Entered is Diary
Toast verse! Oh birthday sonnet that strings true
E'er stanza knit free style, link in tress kind.
None letters scan - no need since star none find -
Deeds reader here disdains, nor head dreams cue.
Art secret exam, chart, restore rare value
Nowhere shrine is named, rich tune ornate designed,
Indeed is hidden within, bis gladdening behind
Covers is meshed, scored, missed, hid, scudding through
End verse. Here lines share where none spot the clue.
Hope endowed, read Heaven's clear. Add here's signed
Erudition's rheme eked out blur, he ideas twined.
Annals are read as announced Dear, a part eschew.
Reward - roses near - reveals her in mirror bright.
To show you ardour triumphs in today's top write.
Toastverseohbirthdaysonnetthatstringstrue
Eerstanzaknitfreestylelinkintresskind
None lettersscannoneedsincestarnonefind
Deedsreader heredisdainsnorheaddreamscue
Artsecretexamchar trestorerarevalue
Nowhereshrineisnamedrichtune ornatedesigned
Indeedishiddenwithinbisgladdeni ngbehind
Coversismeshedscoredmissedhidscudding through
Endverseherelinessharewheresofewspotcl ue
HopeendowedreadheavensclearaddheressignedEruditionsrhemeekedoutblurheideastwined
Anna lsarereadasannounceddearaparteschew.
Rewardros esnearrevealsherinmirrorbright
Toshowyouardour triumphsintodaystopwrite
© Jonathan Robin polyacrostic palimpsest sonnet written 20081126 see also Birthday Mirror Below
Notes on Polyacrostic Palimpsests.
.
Acrostic: Verse in which certain letters form a word or message
Polyacrostic: Several acrostics within the same composition
Acrostics to be found below – in alphabetical order:
His hand her hand [twice vertically]
Tattoed Fairy [twice vertically]
Tend a nice heart [3 times vertically] – hopefully not an ice heart
Tender is her heart [4 times diagonally]
Palimpsest: A manuscript on which more than one text is written
with earlier writing, or one level of meaning, partially visible.
Birthday Mirror
The birthday. Hark the ciphers that string true
E'er we dare knit free style link in tress kind
None starts scan, - no need since star none find,
Do adepts far here dip deep Myrrh? He today through
A love's offer all mark, set fate's art fair for you.
Nowhere shrine is named. Rich line, ornate design
Is held, is hid inside, is laid deep behind
Covers, is meshed, scored, kissed hide, cued into
End verse. Here hopes share where lines are knit to
His pen's freed. Read.Heaven's clear as shows rebirth signed
End dread, for he spell'd glamour, he feels twine
As new, as signal Adam announced. Dear, apart won't do!
Reward - roses near - reveals her in mirror write.
To show you ardour, triumph at hand. Try trophy bright.
(c) Jonathan Robin polyacrostic palimpsest sonnet written 8 January 2007
SEE BELOW NOTES AND REFORMATTING
Birthday Mirror
His hand her hand [twice vertically]
Tattooed Fairy [twice vertically]
Tend a nice heart [3 times vertically]
Tender is her heart [4 times diagonally]
Thebirthdayharkthecipherst hatstringtrue
Eerwedareknitfreestylelinkintres skind
NonitstartsscannoneedsincestarnonefindDoadeptsfarheredipdearfairhetodaythrough
Alo vetoonecanchartsetfatesartfairforyou
Nowheresh rineisnamedrichlineornatedesign
Isheldishiddee pinsideislaidbehind
Coversismeshedscoredkissed hidecuedinto
Endverseherehopessharewherelinesa reknitto
Hispenfreedreadheavensclearasshowsreb irthsigned
Enddreadforhespelldglamourhefeelstw ine
Asnewsignaladamannounceddearapartwontdo Rewardrosesnearrevealsherinmirrorwrite
Toshowy etardourthreadathandtrytrophybright
© Jonathan Robin polyacrostic palimpsest sonnet written 8 January 2007 revised 20081126
Author notes
Anyone reading ‘ye tar dour’ in place of
‘yet ardour’ in the last line of the sonnet
OR
'an ice heart' in place of 'A NICE HEART'
is mis[s]taken
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Lithe Dame's Birthday Toast
The birthday here, toast Terri's heart strings true!
E'er in verse fit free style we'd list, real kind
None threads skain enchanting, seam none unwind,
Deed rare, for heed, dig deep dear, here dream's due.
A dame lithe may read, treasure marriage cue.
Now parts hid new I name, rich link is neat designed
In zeal is laid, chained. This, a nodal find,
Covert, is meshed, scored, gist tight tucked into
Each true hope aired, shared here, tunes sung for two.
His pen rules. Read. Heaven's clear art has signed.
Eye, dear fair, he spell'd glamour. Here entwined,
Annulled dread, as announced, fear, alarms, through.
Reward: lines near revealing winner right,
To show life's doubts dissolve, idyll true, bright.
8 March 2010
notes
Acrostic: Verse in which certain letters form a word or message
Polyacrostic: Several acrostics within the same composition Palimpsest: A manuscript on which more than one text is written th earlier writing, or one level of meaning, partially visible
His hand her hand [Twice vertically]
Terri L Turrell [Twice vertically]
Tend a nice heart [3 x vertically]
Tender is her heart [4 x diagonally]
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Poet's Thirst
Why do I thirst to pen a verse?
Would prose not do as well?
The rhyme is music to my ears
and the lyrical swell
can never be found in prose
and so I say to those.
'Write your story in novel form
or fictionalize your book.
I will pen my verse instead
and capture you with my hook.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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What Make A Poem A Poem?
What makes a poem a poem
Is it the story it tells
The feeling it sells.
what makes a poem a poem
is it the history it shows
or the letters of word flow
do the lines mater it they rhyme
or not, can it be free verse of
abcabc line schem,
What makes a poem a poem
is it the words i repeat
Or the emotion they cove.
What makes a poem a poem
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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Verse or Prose
A verse written like a prose
Or a prose written like a verse
Is readable without divide
If it has a flow with a thought.
22.07.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Prismatic Appraisal
Stop, look, and listen, imprint glistens, see
words wire taut, well caught, of themselves require
standards unset, spontaneous, to be -
though goal unsought - far from the crowd's mud mire.
Let dropp by dropp from inspiration's tree
pearl down to crown rhyme, rhythm all admire,
encapsulate amber eternity
to time-trap thoughts, acts, objects, free from ire.
One stores verse story's glory in the mind,
retinal rainbow stimulating each
synaptic link both in and out of reach, -
display whose ray may play before, behind.
Word flow sensations sows and by degree,
can catalyze a metamorphic fire
as empathy extends its energy
incandescent, lends dimensions higher
to time and space and place which, falling free,
rise to surprise and stimulate the lyre.
Time loses its accustomed hierarchy
thus finite frontiers, limits soon expire.
In context crystalline we find outlined
prismatic tones some play, which more may teach
than meets the eye, contact points combined,
with ease - these inner inhibitions breach.
Words flow where none could know they'd go, - no key
is needed where there's no directive spire,
no cue restrictive, new priority
in depth is found, ground falls away, kite flyer
spins toplike, fights against Earth's gravity
reintegrates new levels which aspire
to spread, to wed when seedbed cavity
spores explode, explore, more growth inspire.
Words flow, emotions echo, each assigned
its place to interaction trace where speech
is often too restrictive, predefined, -
thought modes aligned, too taut one must impeach.
Words taught, untaught, exchanged, are vector we
extend from passing trend as minds enquire,
as echoes through blue organ flue flow free
or meanings ancient bend to suit soul's choir
in harmony, or melting melody,
or raven caw reacting to some liar,
cabalist, hermetic, open key,
energy decoding deep desire.
So verse to verse responds spontaneous
to take up arms against a troubled seed,
to laugh with, never at unless some cuss,
to read behind the lines for more to read…
These featured points outline one Poet's view
though points, when featured, comments draw too few
1029 14 November 2003 and 8 August 2007
(28 March 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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In Pursuit of a Poetry Prize
I’m constructing a poem in a strategic new way.
So they won’t comprehend what I’m trying to say.
For a poetry contest with a fabulous prize,
I studied what seems to attract judges’ eyes.
I was reading the ones recognized in the past,
seeking form and design for the words I will cast,
when I noticed a pattern, a key to their prose,
illogical thoughts in unorganized rows.
The first verse confuses, that’s part of the game.
The second verse vague, just more of the same.
Like, “In the beginning the ending was near, ”
or, “We basked in an ardent recollection of fear.”
They conclude with some incomprehensible phrase,
like, “The prolific embrace of our foregone days.”
Ideas aren't finished in these literary events,
and it seems they avoid any words that make sense.
When they don’t understand, it becomes a deep thought.
In depth they will ponder what meaning was sought.
They'll scoff if you've written a limerick or rhyme,
then cast it aside as a waste of their time.
I'll likely be banned, or be forced to concede,
but I'm sharing the secret it takes to succeed;
Don't stress over structure or fret about flow,
use thoughts you don’t have and words you don’t know.
poem by Kevin Pace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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Introductions 0167
Intelligence with instinct should unite,
Nor compromise, nor seek presumptious reign,
To speed-link poet to true fancy's flight.
Reject this rede, all industry is vain.
Outlaw all superficial sketches trite,
Draw joy if joy, if sad, etch inner pain.
Uncertainty can't humour or delight.
Create an atmosphere whose inky skein
Tight winds round reader, s[h]ifting wrong from right.
Ideas conveyed suggest in language plain
Outline he or she completes as write
New insights offers, no need to explain.
To this love's labour, harmony ensure,
Sonnet writes itself, and may endure.
If healthy symbiosis we sustain,
No effort should be spared, by day, by night.
Try to improve, not prove, harsh words soon wane.
Revise, resize, help reader see the light
Offer hints, instruct and entertain,
Draft and redraft, with care craft, brain finds flight,
Unleashed imagination, hidden lain,
Can rise from hibernation, latent quite
To share, prepare layer after layer, thus train
Inner evolution. Do not indict
Or censure pass, or censor soul's refrain,
Nor unduly influence outright.
Through form may free verse learn to grow true, show
Flow whose rich rhyming interplay may glow.
(18 January 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Life's Tides 1240 Current Version
Linked ebbs and flows, tides fortune blows,
It never knows what cause it sows
For cycle slows or speeds, and those
Effects winds chose truth seldom shows.
Like April snows regrets melt: rose
In May soon glows to blossom grows.
Fling sorrow's bows and sharp arrows,
Enjoy life 'til Time's pages close
Life which opposes sadness owes
In verse or prose no debt, transpose
Free soul cleansed whole as joy arose.
Expose no woes nor hope foreclose.
Life shadows swallows, overthrows,
Feels garden grows for heart's repose.
(11 January 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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