En.Citatepedia^®.ro

If I Was Here To Impress

Your approach and style,
Seems to have had its benefits...
And advantages.

'I know.
And I find that remarkable.
To sit back and see my influence,
All over the place.

Especially copied by those,
Who didn't know the difference...
Between poetic verse and definition.
Or the rhyming done within prose.'

How do you feel about that?

'My track record speaks for itself.
And besides...
If I was here to impress,
I'd be the first to address that in forums.

To compose with a showing,
The deepness of my sincerity.
To those convinced I offer originality.
And not plagiarized imaginations,
To gain notoriety.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With a Focus More Noticed

There is a difference when one stumbles,
In a crumble that humbles.

It is noticed with more focused,
When notoriety is attached.

There is a difference when one speaks,
With a tone that seems to reach...
Beyond definition.

And there is a difference influenced by comprehension...
When ignorance is fought.
And a breaching of it leaks.

That which is taught...
Is feared by those who refuse to see,
A rise in higher consciousness.
And freely given by those who teach.

With a focus more noticed,
When notoriety is attached.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A matter of opinion.

Some people say I am perverse
because I choose to write in verse.
The kind of stories I compose.
They think I ought to write in prose.

They have the right to I suppose.
But I won’t do as they propose.
I much prefer to write in verse
Because I think there’s nothing worse

Than badly written boring prose.
That is the reason why I chose.
To concentrate on rhyming verse.
I see no reason to reverse.

My original decision
to conform to your opinion.
I do not choose to write in prose
I am convinced that I would lose.

My rhyming capability
reducing my ability.
To write my words spontaneously.
I don’t expect you to agree.

Although I am compelled to write.
You’re free to exercise your right
To read or not as you choose to.
Though I confess I hope you do.

I know I can’t please everyone.
That is something that can’t be done
By any writer though they try
A truth no writer can deny.

Your comments are of interest
they spur me on to do my best.
We can agree to disagree
on which is best quite easily.

A poet must choose poetry.
But other writers are quite free.
to share their thoughts written in prose
Because they choose to I suppose.

If you should doubt my competence.
I will not choose to take offence.
You are entitled to your view
Please remember I am too

Sunday,02 May 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two schools of thought.

.

The lady chose to take offence
Although I said she wrote fine prose
She may not know the difference
between poetry and prose

She thought that she wrote poetry
But what she wrote was free form prose.
I offered no apology
It was not my fault that she chose.

Not to learn the basic rules
defining prose and poetry
Two very different writing schools
in which to show your artistry.

The so called experts can’t agree
and coined the term poetic prose.
Though writing cannot possible
be classed as poetry and prose.

If it’s not metered it is prose
no matter how poetical.
But you’re entitled to compose.
Fine prose and call it poetry.

Though I suggest respectfully
you should be proud of writing prose.
As some do most successfully.
But it was poetry I chose

Thursday,11 March 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem Versus Prose

You do not like this poem
And I do not like your prose
Enough with your predicates
And your subjects
In this poem you will find
No commas and semicolons

This poem
Is armed with rhythms
Stanzas and shifts
This poem has no end
There are no colons
In this poem

Your prose is replete with nuances
This poem echoes
The plight of the oppressed
And dispossessed

In your prose I find parentheses
This poem speaks of life
Your prose can be edited
Cut this poem and it bleeds

You do not like this poem
And I do not like your prose
Prose has pauses and hyphens
Prose comes to a stop
This poem plugs images
Even in your head

Prose deals with fiction
And nonfiction
This poem can be heard
It can be felt
It speaks of hunger
Of hopelessness
Homelessness
It speaks of a bitter reality

You do not like this poem

poem by Buxton Shippy
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Snap Out Of It

Think of it this way!
The time you take today,
To place judgement on anyone...
Will it make a difference?

When people are seeking to quench a thirst,
How many do you believe,
Have thoughts to impress with proper etiquette?
How many are hoping to approach their thirst,
First with political correctness on their minds?
Especially if that one has been critiqued,
By those giving their outdated opinions heard...
As if fossils undefined but creating their own refinement,
Believing themselves deserving of the attention given.

Think of it this way!
The time you take today,
To place judgement on anyone...
Will it make a difference?
Has it?
Snap out of it!
The only ones you influence,
'May' be the snails.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Innovators that Supply the Real Juice

To no one's surprise,
The 'fly-by-nights' regurgitate...
For notoriety purposes that is plagiarized.
Believing what they add to discovery is originality.
And none of it from them can be produced.
Not from minds with eyes probing to redefine,
The invention of the wheel.

With a reducing of innovators that supply the real juice,
Quite noticeable from an absence of a certain delivery...
With something that identifies a style with bite.
This taste is gone.
Like the removal of salt and butter...
From anticipated fresh and heated popcorn.

And this is an obvious omission,
Diluted by those chipping away...
With a hope to experience their names up in neon.
At someone else's labored expense and creativity.
But they get away with it,
Since mediocrity sells and quicker to release...
From a mind using thought as a process to steal.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From A Place Of Creative Thought

Travels through time done adventurously,
Is a much more rewarding experience...
Than embellishing to impress,
The imaginations of others...
To address with exaggerations,
From a place of creative thought improvised.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After Testing In a Marketed Ghetto

Style to address.
Style to impress,
Style.

Style to originate.
Update and/or replace.
To modify what has been done.
Refreshing an existence for everyone.
Whether or not,
It may irritate some.

While others may imitate it.
Style is what it takes,
To shape and remake to satisfy...
The taste of those who claim they know what it is!
After testing in a marketed ghetto.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With Your Making Of Demands

Don't approach me
With your making of demands
I am one of few who believes
Having notoriety
Doesn't place anyone automatically
In the novelty category
You either ignore me or respect me
As I will do you

If I should stomp on your foot,
I am sure your reaction
Will not be first to smile
And be polite!
I am sure you will say something to me,
Obscene
I would
And could care less
Where you take that to address it

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A matter of form for friend leslie

Consistency and symmetry
combined with meter seem to be
Ingredients of good poetry.
Though modernists will disagree.

They take a different point of view.
Convinced that anything will do
That writers need not follow rules
and those who do they see as fools

Consider rhyming is a crime
and meter just a waste of time.
But can this kind of writing last?
like that of poets from the past.

I don’t dispute they have the right
to choose the way in which they write.
Poetic prose can be divine
but not if it lacks discipline.

Your writing must be coherent.
A well established precedent
If what you write does not make sense.
What can be said in its defence?

If readers cannot comprehend
the message which you try to send
Because your meaning is not plain.
Perhaps its time to think again.

And realise there must be rules.
A craftsman has to know his tools.
If he does not then he will fail
his efforts all to no avail.

Some readers will choose poetry
and others prose preferably
It is your reader’s right to choose
to read your writings or refuse.

If you don’t cater to their needs
don’t be surprised if no one reads.
If how you write is too obscure.
Then change your style. The only cure.

30/06/2009

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walked In The Rain

I've been away
High on a breeze
Tasted the salt of the seven blue seas Verse 1
Washed upon shores
Sun in my eyes
Stayed long enough just to say my goodbyes...

I walked in the rain
Wet me through and through
Following rainbows that lead me back to you Chorus
I've always believed
In what I've been told
Where rainbows end there's a pot of gold...

I'll read the stars
Talk to the moon
Stop when I hear somebody playing our tune Verse 2
Any excuse
And you'll see me
Drifting back home to the place I should be...

Some people say
Listen to me
Mostly I find that I disagree Verse 3
They tell me to change
Set myself free
I'm not convinced I don't want to be me

Maybe I'll stay
Maybe I'll go
Maybe I'll stick around I don't know Verse 4
One thing for sure
This I can say
I'm coming back; I've been so far away

song performed by by UB40 from Cover Up
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Free Verse or Prose

Sadly, to me
This thing they call Prose
Is naught but just talk,
And often verbose;
I think it's too easy
And honestly, I'm
Just wanting to say
I much prefer rhyme.

And almost the same is the
Form called Free Verse,
It isn't for me, I'm not keen,
And what's worse:
Explaining the differences
Should be a breeze,
But even amongst the 'experts'
No one agrees.

Now I'm no academic
But I won't be fooled
By the 'cleverer' people,
By the so-called, 'well-schooled';
I favour good rhyming
O'er Free Verse or Prose,
And I'm calling to mind now
The Emperor's New Clothes.

poem by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bitter Animals

The bitter animals compose a short message,
An address to the public, advice for a friend,
That I love it the way winners bring an adage,
From advantages prospered and to ascend.
Binary is the dog’s letter, either it speaks or barks,
Learning the briefing on the wall, living along,
Much with the need for birthmarks,
Much handed to the simplicity they belong.
I crave for motion bugging a movement,
A book is handed to desirables,
The dogs and cats do carry on appeasement,
Much to the scale of worry of untouchables.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Want to Gain...What?

You want to gain...
What?
Fame, fortune and wealth?
To feel you are above everyone else?
To deal them with teases...
Just to please yourself?

You want to gain...
What?
Attention you insist belongs to you?
To set pretensions upon their point of view.
What does this 'really' do for you?
Would this erase your insecurities...
And those obscenities that you spew?

You want to gain...
What?
A dignity and pride...
With 'things' and objects,
You believe holds a head high.
Or eyes on you!
To be awed by a fake persona.
And left transfixed...
By your masquerading of it!

You clearly feel an emptiness.
And this you keep inside.
Nothing you choose to express to impress...
Will ever address what you deny!
And an identity unknown...
Seems to leave you depressed,
With regrets.
This is shown!

And moving forward beyond this...
With determined steps,
Will not gain you what you wish.
If you are too afraid...
To expose and admit,
Mistakes you've made!

But you insist...
None are there to fix.

You want to gain...
What?
A way to disguise your blemishes,
There and appearing.
Or a way to escape from your flaws?
No one finds endearing.

Which of these do you believe can not be seen?

You want to gain...
What?
Another life?
One you don't find,
So disgusting?
To live one that is lived perfectly right!
One you wished you had lived less distrusting.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Let's Review The Inventory

Back up!
Let's review the inventory.
It is not okay,
For you to create...
What you believe takes place,
In my life.
Without an invoice or evidence,
To prove you have taken stock...
Of how I live and apply,
My ongoing activities.
But others perceive,
You to be a person of tact.

And I find that laughable.
Now...
If you wish to address,
Me personally...
With your issues.
I would suggest you do that.
To prevent your own embarrassment.
Before it is exposed you are way off track.

Back up!
Let's review the inventory.
You have made claims,
Released to speak about me...
As if they were facts.
But nothing I've supplied,
Promotes your stabbing me in my back.
Unless you seek with me a confrontation?
And verbal attacks to satisfy a shouting match,
I have long left to explore the benefits of maturity.
And plenty of that I will upon you unpack!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is No Spotlight That Comes As A Given

The making of anything look easy,
Gets the attention from those who believe it is.
And if there is any hint of notoriety attached...
Only those interested in what is done,
Seek the limelight and not the work and sweat...
Involved in the achievement of that pat on the back.

Baubles, bangles and beads...
And bright shiny things that bling to impress,
Is all most people want to address.
Assuming with success there is no stress.
Or the getting of a much needed rest.
There is no spotlight that comes as a given.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Diversity And Inclusion

Forums held on diversity and inclusion,
Seem to reveal one thing...
There has been a reluctance to admit,
Divisions exist.

And those wishing to address this,
In open forums...
Are trying to make attempts,
To express in an intelligent way...
How best to have everyone accept,
A way of life that should be lived...
Without having discussions,
About respecting others...
And their cultures.

To have forums, receptions...
And invitations sent,
Is still not admitting...
And enforcement of ignorance.
With an indoctrination,
To allow those to still not strip themselves...
Of hidden insecurities,
That keep themselves at a disadvantage.

A forum I would suggest?
How We Messed Up Other People's Lives!
With A Request They Forget How This Was Done.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Mind Is In a Poetic Meter

Lit with verse and profound imaginings.
Clear of limits and in boundless flight.

My mind is in a poetic meter.
Fixed within rhythmic thoughts combined.
And racing to attach themselves to the proper lines.
Picked with a selected taste to find,
Just the right mixture to release at the right time.
To capture a comprehension that is mutually shared.
And creating an understanding that before was not there.
Until it was produce to seduce,
To make aware.

My mind is in a poetic meter.
Can you feel it?
My mind is in a poetic meter.
Can you feel it?
My mind is in a poetic meter.
Can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?

My mind is in a poetic meter.

Lit with verse and profound imaginings.
Clear of limits and in boundless flight.

Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?

Fixed within rhythmic thoughts combined.
And racing to attach themselves to the proper lines.

Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?

My mind is in a poetic meter.

Picked with a selected taste to find,
Just the right mixture to release at the right time.
To capture a comprehension that is mutually shared.
And creating an understanding that before was not there.

My mind is in a poetic meter.
Can you feel it?
My mind is in a poetic meter.
Can you feel it?
My mind is in a poetic meter.
Can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?

My mind is in a poetic meter.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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