Poet's Soul
I read the poet's souls in the poems,
I read the poet's inner world.
Pulse beats louder, then duller,
And all my doubts are just hurled.
The sadness sometimes a kiss cover,
Then suddenly curled at my feet,
Giving the whole body a heat,
The warmth of a true lover.
Fever passes through nervous points,
Chill runs through the whole body,
I read the poet's souls in the poems,
And feel that the soul is haughty.
I delve into the words and their nature,
Understanding destroys the walls,
Now I would like to capture
The main idea and the poems calls.
I read and my joy is in full swing,
My own soul gets the wings,
I am ready to fly with the singer,
Like me the poet is a swinger.
I am with that one who dared
To plunge into the holy spring naked,
I am with that one who shared
An inspiration and was not faked.
I read the poet's souls in the poems.
But do I read the souls of reality or dream?
Let's deem that no one here and there lies,
And the law of poetry is always precise.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 4th of April,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Related quotes
If You Are a Poet
If you are a poet it means so much
as others souls you often touch.
Your own soul you cruelly cut
petting the others with your blood.
To be a poet means to sing of beauty
and it’s the main poet’s duty.
Rhyming the words to tell the truth
and it has to be quite smooth.
To be a poet means to burn with passion,
to treat the others grief with a compassion,
to love the others as yourself,
to hear the voice of kind elf.
To be a poet means to dream,
to tell the world a touching theme,
to speak sincerely and frankly
but not just rhyming poems blankly.
Rhyming words is not the main,
there’s no need to strain your brain.
If your heart has nothing to tell
rhymed words will look like hell.
To be a poet means to write
as if your blood gushes from vein,
to write the rhythm of living breath,
the rhythm of life that seethe.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
30/9 2010
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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I Read Today A Hundred Poems
I read today a hundred poems
And cannot find
A single one that moved me -
Perhaps it is not the poems
But my poetic soul
that has no life -
I remember a poem
I read yesterday by Neruda
How beautiful how deep
How filled with passion and longing-
How rich in surprise-
I marvel at the greatness
Of his Poetry of Love-
There is Poetry
One only has to read a true poet
To find it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
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To Be An Anthology Poet
To be an anthology poet whose work
Children hate to read in school
And re-discover in later life as meaningful and beautiful-
To be an anthology poet
And have generations know one’s poems
As part of the eternal canon-
To be an anthology poet
One of the few names
That has survived
When thousands of one’s contemporaries’ have not-
To be an anthology poet
To have written a few of the great and the memorable poems-
To be an anthology poet
To be what I am not
And most likely never will be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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George Crabbe Wrote Of
George Crabbe wrote of hardship and poverty and woe
In the England he lived in a long time ago
But perhaps his poems might be more popular today
Had he looked at life in a less truthful way.
George Crabbe wrote of children in dire poverty
The poor sad victims of Human cruelty
And the poems full of pathos and the poems full of truth
Of a poet who was blessed with the great gift of ruth.
He wrote of human cruelty to their own kind
A God in the soul of such a person you'll find
He did not write of mythological figures or monarch or squire
He wrote for the poor his type I do admire.
Of the poverty around him he was all too aware
But poets like George Crabbe they have always been rare
Though if you feel a bit down and a good laugh you do need
His poems lacking in Humor are not for you to read.
Of the poor souls of England George Crabbe did write
His poems not hard to understand or to read or recite
And though as a person and poet he was great
Such poets the masses never do celebrate.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Do not read my poems…. [for YOU ]
Do not read my poems…
After I am dead
As a lament, a wail
An elegy, a requiem
Do not read my poems…
After I am gone
When no more I can
Hear your velvet voice.
Do not read my poems…
Alone without me
To comment along
And read with you
But, do read my poems
When I beside you lie
With my head resting
On your supporting arm
Listening to you read
In whisper, in kisses
In silence, in love
In sleep, in dream
Watching you feel
Every word I wrote
I’ll close my eyes - Love
Brush aside my hair
With your breathe
Which half veils my face
Sleepless fevered I wrote
Read me my poems
Now sing me a lullaby
Rock me to sleep
On your broad chest
Diving into your eyes
A thousand times
I am refreshed
By your smile
I’ll write on you a poem
Traced by my fingertips
To be etched in your heart
And burnt into your soul!
So, do not read my poems…
poem by Angelina Pandian
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I read another poet I could not understand
I READ ANOTHER POET I COULD NOT UNDERSTAND
I read another poet I could not understand
The metaphors racing one after the other
The eternal thoughts taking on a new particular dress
Words and more words
Lines and more lines
Rushing toward meaning and beauty.
And in it all my simple not understanding,
My waiting to hear words that would return to me-
My understanding
That only by my own effort
By my reading again and again
By my willing to believe
Could I make another poet real.
But do I want another poet to be real
When I am a question,
And when there are already others real for me also?
Oh selfish little man oh poor poor reader-
Write your poem alone again
As if no one but you will ever be able to write
The poems which are real.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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To God Give The Glory (Monchielle)
To God give the glory
Is a treasure to read
Christina R. Jussaume
Is great poet indeed
Her poems vanish gloom
To God give the glory
Her love for Christ is pure
It reflects thru poems
Her words are wise and kind
Uplifts the soul is true
To God give the glory
I'm glad I got a copy
You'll enjoy what you see
She writes witty and nice
Happy her book I read
To God give the glory
Poet tells some funny jokes
She writes of God and life
Of Christ and all she knows
Poet shares loves and strife
November 25,2009
Author's note:
'To God Give The Glory' is a wonderful
and very uplifting poetry book written by
the great poetess Christina R. Jussaume
poem by Dorian Petersen Potter
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A Poet's Song
~♥ ♥ ♥ ~
I have read
Works of great men and women
Simple poems and stories
I also have written
This is the song of a poet
The song of my soul
I love poetries
So too are stories
They are simple daisies
Filling my fantasies
This is the song of a poet
The song of my soul
It is my refuge
When in sorrow
My hopes and dreams
In my unknown tomorrow
This is the song of a poet
The song of my soul
I am a poetess
With the dream of sharing
And with my knowledge and skills
Tomorrow, my dreams I will be fulfilling
This is the song of a poet
The song of my soul
I and my works
May never be great
But I will never lose hope
In God, I place my faith
This is the song of a poet
The song of my soul
I will never surrender to failure
I shall never retire until I reach my goal
I will read and write literature
I will hear the cry of my hoping soul
This is the song of a poet
The song of my soul
~♥ ♥ ♥ ~
poem by Belleza Edella Marian SwanCullen
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The Story Of The Poet
THE STORY OF THE POET
The story of the poet
Is told by his poems
A long long story
Of many small poems.
Can they be read?
Can they be known?
Can they be understood,
As the story they are?
The story of the poet
May forever be unknown-
And die with the poems
Never known.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Time Choice
to read poets
their poems
is time choice
actually poet
would write
more superior
poems
if educated read
other poets?
interacted more
nothing happens
in still isolation?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I don't write poems
I don't write poems,
I drink them like wine,
I become tipsy
with each coming line.
I don't write poems,
I breathe them like air,
I become so happy
when each one I share.
I don't write poems,
I live with them;
they prolong my years,
they are as true as I am.
I don't write poems,
I weave into verses
sadness, joy, tears,
prayers, love, curses…
My poems talk and sing,
Sense of living they bring.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
26th of April,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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The Professional Poet
and of course it was wrong
to label him as that – in just that tone of voice;
a touch of envy there, no doubt
implying a comfortable life,
a smart careerist, older poets youthfully
cultivated, poems in the right magazines,
editors gently kept in touch with;
keeping on the right side of his peers,
'interesting' reviews of their poetry skilfully woven,
professional favours quietly exchanged;
academic posts gracefully filled, and
moved on from; leaving grateful ex-students
recommended for the vacancy;
and an acquired ability
to write just enough, but not less;
so it should be rather, a lifelong devotee of poetry,
and when he started to read to us I felt mean
for assuming him to be some artificial thing
a professional poet;
I wanted to inhabit his poetry, the
house of his poetry; but some doors
to rooms were open, some were shut;
would I give the time to find and love the key?
He read his own poems
as if they were step-children –
proud to show them off, and yet, not really his;
the audience, taken aback by this,
hesitated to applaud.
But when he read the poems of others,
he read them as though they were miracles
to stun and to admire, yet he was, we were, barely worthy of;
dropping as fine mercy, as the gentle dew of heaven; he read like
an amateur would read the great, in awe; as -
a lifelong devotee of poetry. He shone.
In each of us, a poet was born and lived.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Poet is free
Poet is free
No grammarian can guide the poet
Do not tell before a poet you are dare
And I know there are so many grammarians
With so many grammars
The poet is one with truth with love
All the grammars old middle modern
Are of no use for a poet
At the time of poet's thought
Poet's love poet's poetry
Nobody can search research poet's history
Nobody can dare to described poet
Poet can create his own language
His own grammar and it does not bother the poet
Whether you like it or not
Leave the poet on his own way
It is better you to read him love him
If you are alive.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The guy who ones us..
and there’s this guy,
hits my poems every day
devotedly
that’s a lot of poems
doesn’t read them,
just hits them
to dropp another 1 in the voting box
on new poems, or ones he’s already oned, alike
he or she no surely he
girls have better things to do
saw some poems had rated 10
naturally assumed that this was faked
because he’s like that, decided
it was time to take me down a peg
but adding his comments – no,
too public, better do it secretly
then announce it publicly
as an act of holy justice..
if a poem’s got no rating – bliss!
a very public 1 like a steaming turd…
if it’s already got a 10, a 1
will bring that down to 5.5..
and there’s always tomorrow..
a 10, two ones make 4.0..
a 10, three ones, make 3.3.. and so on…
alas for him, he can’t ever reduce my score
with 10 plus 1 to the xth, to lower than 1.0…
funny, I still feel the same me in my poems…
I hope there’s only one of him,
it’s an awful waste of time, chasing
a paper power, a passing screen…
fun though it is, to spread childish smears
across the adult world…
needless to say, his many weeks of work
have served to elevate our hit-rate…
and as we sink on one list, then we rise
on another… the injustice of it all…
now the real false figures are his, not ours…
and then, he thought, it’s time for Frank..
and then, for Tara.. and who next?
maybe some I haven’t spotted?
That high scorer above all,
Nikki, so far, has escaped his attention…
But then, Nikki has no poems to one!
last year, he was called Joe Fazio or some such,
this year, he’s called ‘Poet Watch’..
if only… I’d be happier, as a poet,
if he had read the poems he oned…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Read my poetry
Read my poetry
My poetry is enough
My poetry is independent
My poetry creates itself.
Read my poetry
My poetry is not mine
Everything belongs to my poetry
My poetry creats itself.
Read my poetry
My poetry is psyche and
Alchemy in me
My poetry is independent of me.
Read my poetry
It agony its ecstasy
Its inspiration
Everything belongs to
My predecessors-poet
Read my poetry
Read my poetry.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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To All Those Whose Poems I Have Not Read
TO ALL THOSE WHOSE POEMS I HAVE NOT READ
To all those whose poems I have not read
Who have said a kind word about mine-
I apologize
I simply am too selfish
And do not want to give the time-
I too do not want to lie
What if I do not like your poem?
And also I do not want to recognize
So many ‘equals' when I am after all to myself ‘the poet'-
An apology is of course not a real answer
Perhaps I will try to do better in the future-
But I do feel badly about this-
Please go on without me
There is a big world out there
And many listeners who hopefully
Will give time and attention to your poem
As I have regrettably not.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Where is He - Is He Dead?
Where is he -
Is he dead?
Where is the poet
Whose poems I just read?
I hope he still writes
It's a pity if he's gone
He may have lost the fight
But his poems will live on.
We are like miners of gold
These poems are the treasure
Though all poets will grow old
We had the best of pleasure!
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Temporarily Pissed-off Poem
Why the hell should I respond to
'I'm new to this site, please read
all my poems and
comment (you'll enjoy them) '- when
you haven't the courtesy
or even the guile
to read just the odd poem
of mine? Why should you
trust the judgement of a poet
you don't even admire or
despise?
OK I'll have cooled tomorrow but
I'm glad I've let off steam
and
by the way that first bit applies
to older acquaintances too.
'Lousy poet but
good for a comment', huh?
(OK, guys - the moment passed...)
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Like So Many Poems I Read
LIKE SO MANY POEMS I READ
Like so many poems I read
These poems I am reading now
Are not poems to me.
They are too detached
Too abstract
Too up in the air.
I want to hear the words
Make a music of feeling
In my soul.
A poem must move me
If it is to be real.
Why then do I write these words
as if a poem?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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