Out Of The Confines Of Definitions
They wish to define soliloquies,
As a dramatic monologue...
Spoken in a reflection,
By one who rambles in prose.
You know...
Those who profess to be 'scholars'.
AND...
Degreed!
They wish to 'confine' poetry,
As a delivery of lines...
For those who believe,
They have an expertise...
Of what they perceive,
Is an etiquette definition of poetry.
Something, of course...
That elevates the nature of it,
To proper standards that are elite.
Well...
When I receive an image,
And it is written to create an effect.
I am not the one to count lines...
With a caring done if it has rhythm or rhyme.
If I am emotionally affected and what I read connects,
The author of what I read that touches me...
Could be a literary genius!
Or someone considered out of their mind.
And most times,
People who create are just that.
Out of the confines of definitions,
To create their own.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Most Of The So Called Literary Experts
Most of the so called literary experts are dismissive of rhyme
They say 'tis the poetry of a long gone time
Yet the poets that they laud the poems they do write
Cannot be put to music and are hard to read and recite
The rhymer of today is not looked on as a poet
Or is not seen as one worthy of literary note
By the so called literary experts with literary degrees
Though their judgement on what is or is not poetry not everyone does please
They never will convince the old style rhyme buff
To him or her well written rhyme is not throw away stuff
In well written rhyme are the words to a song
And good rhyming poetry to music belong
Yet the degreed literary experts who on poetry like to have their say
Dismiss rhyming poets and their poetry as of yesterday.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In A Seeking Of A 'Selected' Demographic To Please
There are no intentions I make,
To create lines to find rhymes...
With the suiting done to absorbing minds,
To ease with the delivery...
Of what is deemed acceptable poetry.
In a seeking of a 'selected' demographic to please.
God has blessed me with a gift,
To interpret messages with.
Some may be offended,
With expecations to be entertained.
And I do the best I can,
To maintain that in perspective.
And there are times I wish my comments,
Were accepted and not dissected...
To reveal a hidden agenda.
And for those who do that,
I might include something provocative.
But I am just a messenger!
Delivering to others what to me has been given.
There are no intentions I make,
To create lines to find rhymes...
With the suiting done to minds,
To ease with the delivery...
Of what is deemed acceptable poetry.
In a seeking of a 'selected' demographic to please.
That would be too easy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All Poetry... All The Time
All Poetry … All The Time
I Love To Read In Rhythm & Rhyme
I Love To Write Of Wistful Wishes
And Lips Speak Of Love Like Bold Kisses
All Poetry … All The Time
Poetry, Is A Medication For My Mind
Poetry, Has A Power To Overthrow Pain
Poetry, Should Be Spoken, Again and Again
All Poetry … All The Time
I Am Really Thrilled To Find
More Poet Lovers, and Their Word Artistry
All The Time … All Poetry
All Poetry … All The Time
May Each Poetic Puff, Rise & Climb
Into The Clouds, Up To The Stars
(Or Maybe Just Linger, Where You Are) …
All Poetry … For All Of Time
Written & ©: 5/24/10
By: MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Man Became Addicted To Poetry
A MAN BECAME ADDICTED TO POETRY
A man became addicted to poetry-
Wherever he went he read or wrote a few lines-
Poetry became much of what he did-
Poetry and poetry and poetry-
As if that alone could give meaning and pleasure to his life.
A man became addicted to poetry
And so lost at times
What true poetry is –
Now he writes without knowing
Whether he is truly writing
Or merely using the ‘idea and world of poetry’
For his own peace of mind.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetry Has Its Own Music
POETRY HAS ITS OWN MUSIC
Poetry has its own music-
A mind empty of it
Wonders where it is.
Poetry has a rhythm of its own
Without that rhythm
Dead words dead lines dead pages.
Seeking the rhythm the music of poetry
Flat lines come
And the poem is a parody
Of true poetry.
How many flat and false poems
Have I written
In order
To help me try
To come alive?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My poems is not Poetry
My Poems are not Poetry
Poetry rhythm is essential part
Communicative act of rhythms
Where words created music
An effect on the reader’s and listener
Words beginning with the same letter
And achieve a poetically effect.
My Poems has no rhythms
For the first time I don’t know
What to say and how to show.
Many words is not my style
Let me say, I like your smile
I don’t think I should like you,
Unfortunately I do.
I'm not sure now how to write
I lost my idea how, where words
Are used in away similar
Creating Music, where you find
Languages of rhymes
I write Prose but not Poetry
Using a regular rhythm
Where vast majority
Of languages spoken and written.
I try to be a barn, the muses were believed and inspire
I try to hard without success,
you already know, I guess.
Anyhow, it doesn’t matter
Usually I do not write
Things like this, I never tried,
for the first time I don’t know
what these lines should say or show.
Allegory, metaphor equated
Meaning lie outside the narrative
Acrostic phase when read together
Alliteration words same letter for poetical effect
Satire is a form of humour
Limerick is a short humorous poem.
And Honestly, I don’t regret
Things I did and words I said.
7. January 2008
poem by Mary Wismer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On Poetry
1
poetry can be
like a sky filled with wrangling clouds
or as a sky without a wisp
2
in poetry there are no
clichés in thought and phrase;
and what is left there is
the resplendent and the living
3
poetry leaves one
rich inside
and ordinary outside
4
the fool defines poetry
and poetry defies all definitions
5
poetry entertains, inspires;
poetry tickles, distracts, and shapes and frees -
but its true intent, no one knows
6
many lines, and countless lines
many pages, and thick volumes
don’t make poetry
7
if one had no coins
one cannot buy bread;
but not all the world’s wealth
can bring you poetry
8
Oh no!
Not another love poem!
Oh no!
Not another poem about oneself!
9
rhyme, technique and meter
and tricks of prosody
don’t make poetry: passion does
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
That Horse You Named Clarence Has Died
There are those who are handed definitions,
To relate to as a designation.
And there are those who create definitions,
That describe the times that move forward with change.
Those who make attempts to keep things remaining the same,
Will always find their standards kept...
To use as proper etiquette,
Outdated and sought to replace on someone's menu.
Especially those needing a crash course,
In updating slow minds.
And there 'is' one that just may do the job!
One that is ideal to leave old thoughts behind.
Entitled:
Those Wheels Don't Roll On Cobblestone Anymore;
And That Horse You Named Clarence Has Died.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Appreciating Free Style Poetry, From The Loose Poet
for EVO e.i.c and his staff
poetic seeds germinate
above the 5 poetical quilts:
mood, imagery, thought
melody, rhythm
regardless of twigs sprouting -
matured poet reaps twists and surprises
immatured one duplicates
poetry is not a sole reflection of man's
damn imagination thru rhyme and metrical phrases
poetry is not a tone of
monotonous lines of ala-classical tounges of greatness
and hackneyed syllables, homonymous end-words
poetry is but a variation of
mute voices from artistic loose mind
puzzling emotions spill out in any wad of papers
in unlyrical odes, or sober sonnets
in rhyme or wild verses
then what makes my poetry
when read
to make my critics weep
they feed to every reader's mind
as they know -
my poetry has magic
most of us keep so well hidden
sometimes narrow
sometimes deep
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Find little favor
Readers are like bournvita tonic
Create stir in mind with panic
They reflect the opinion with precise comment
Make to rejoice or to feel bad with no room to resent
I feel certainly at heart
It touches like pointer from the start
Leaves behind some impression of imperfection
A remedy that is needed for speedy rectification
Poems with no message find little favor
Create an image for poet with some kind of honor
A rare gesture of achievement for an individual
Not to be taken in isolation or treated as casual
Poems do matter less
But not in all the cases
How great I feel at heart?
When they pass comments to appreciate the craft
I may and in fact all must observe
Dedicate self for cause to serve
It may not create impact soon
But help others to see shining sun
We are the reflection and true medium
Not all may come up with same level or maximum
Yet their intention can be well read between lines
Many issues remain on fore and many can remain on side lines
It is always good to be aligned live with communication
Respond to their observation with quick and find quotation
Well judged reply may move them from their stated position
Understand the point and support the well crafted composition
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Poet Tried To Shackle My Words
A poet tried to shackle my words,
as if from every poem
the message was stripped,
as if nowhere there was any mastery
of rhythm and sound to be found
as if I had sold my soul
to masses of people reading my verses,
as if I live in disrespect
to the expertise that a great poet
displays in his work
as if every line of mine
was just a wild cacophony
that I had flung together
in a utter hurry
to shower down on crowds of people.
Yet I while I swam against a tempest sea,
sticking to the truth and integrity,
trying to find answers to life’s mysteries
and problems
trying to expose injustice and oppression
there was boasting about a elitis clique
that totally excludes me
but they were going along the path
of political correctness and maybe indifference,
being far too scared to ruffle some feathers,
writing verses sixty times over and over
before they were becoming poems somehow,
before their words were catching some magic
believing that a great poem,
is like a jigsaw puzzle,
that you have got to unravel
with a dictionary,
where simple words can fuse together
with a own type of magic,
lacking in the ability
to find poetry in ordinary things,
to create poetry in lines
that by themselves fuses together
to create something great
but my words kept on coming,
falling into lines,
as if designed by a divine presence
and by themselves fused
into much deeper meaning
than I could find with my own abilities.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Prose-Poetry
Once prose and poetry existed side by side
Two styles of literature, each with its bound
Jealously guarded by the literati
Lest prose masquerades as poetry.
The First World War smashed all fetters,
Soldiers wrote heart-rending poetic letters
To sweethearts, friends, fathers and mothers.
Newspapers published their anguish and horrors
The literati classed them as prose
And turned up their nose
At such a new trend of mongrelised poetry;
But the public gave it name and identity
Prose-poetry began to gain respectability.
Prose-poetry is a contradiction in terms,
An oxymoron; a paradox of many forms.
When well written, words flow as though in rhyme
Thought and syntax together dance with rhythm.
Some pen few lines haphazardly,
String words together arbitrarily,
Flit between thoughts randomly,
Structure their poems casually.
They want us to see them as thinkers
In fact, they are just wearing blinkers.
If only they could see their folly
They’d stop abusing prose-poetry.
poem by Isam Hussain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetry Has A Rhythm Of Its Own
POETRY HAS A RHYTHM OF ITS OWN
Poetry has a rhythm of its own
I have lost it
I have words
I have sentences
But I have no rhythm-
I have flat lines
One after the blank other
A mind without depth
A sense of lack
But no real way
Of making a music of poetry
All my efforts now
Are like these lines
Without resonance
Simple and single in meaning
Not what a poem at its best
Should be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Have Become A Poem
I HAVE BECOME A POEM
I have become a poem
And all I say and think
Is read in me
As poetry.
All connects to lines of others.
Read through a lifetime of reading poetry,
and all it means,
all the questions and implications,
resounding in me now
at all
The Poet I am not
And never will be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Can't be undone
The truth remains same and can't be undone
The past and by gone may remain always bygone
The God has given you beautiful mind to inscribe on paper
It is how you feel and ink it on the subject matter
It does not remain then poetry
They are hidden words and not mystery
Every kind heart might have felt its impact
Let us make it as unforgettable holy act
Some one may see it as real art
Some words may be inserted as skillful craft
What actually you are doing with words?
Making it sharper than even swords?
Mind may read several things and store
It may add little or even more
The imagery may not remain ever confined
The feeling may come out and stay as defined
Poetry is reflection of clear mind
Many ideas may find mention and find
The safe refuge to come out at free will
It has to reside there and wait for still
It is like holy temple, mosque or church
You can create space, place and make search
It will create perfect environment with recognition
Only it will need proper key for ignition
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You'll Reach The Peak Of That Literary Hill
Who is to say which poetry is best?
How can it possibly be defined?
Which type is superior when put to the test?
All variations are surely entwined.
Strong words written stand the test of time,
Whether in poetry or in a good song,
Some will just flow whereas others will rhyme,
That doesn't mean either is wrong.
You may hate the words or the rhythm of a tune,
The content will still make you think,
Is the writer a genius or perhaps a buffoon?
With either there's always a link.
Some tell a story just like a book,
The written word can play games with your heart,
When you read one line common sense is forsook,
From that poem you don't want to depart.
It will get you talking that much is true,
You'll condemn it or proclaim it is great,
In some cases the reader may well want to sue,
You can guarantee it will open up a debate.
Who are any of us to judge each other?
Yet critics have the power to destroy,
Freedom of speech is what they smother,
Slagging off others they seem to enjoy.
Constructive critique can improve what is written,
Regardless of it being good or bad,
But senseless censure can leave one bitten,
It can even drive some people mad.
If you want to depart from the madness of life,
Then writing can be a great tool,
It can lift you up and rid you of strife,
Enjoying what you create is the rule.
Some of the time you can please them all,
There'll be those you never will,
As long as when writing you're having a ball,
‘' You'll Reach The Peak Of That Literary Hill ‘'
On A Famed Poet
Forgive me if his greatness I cannot seem to note
His poems never rhyme but he is a famed poet
By literary experts considered to be knowledgeable and wise
And for his poems he has won many a prize.
Though poetry is not very popular today
The poet of the poetry lovers the experts do say
In University literary magazines students his verses read
And they all agree he's a fine poet indeed.
Of poets and poetry I must confess so little I know
My favourites old rhymers from ages ago
On the poetry I do not like most experts agree
That it is well written and quite good poetry.
Forgive me if the worth in his verse I can't see
His non rhyming poetry does nothing for me
Of reading blank verse I do quickly grow tired
My truth is by such stuff I do not feel inspired.
The experts on his poetry great interest show
And his stature as a poet only seems to grow
Of him great things are written and great things we hear
And good luck to him on his literary career.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetry of Art or Art of Poetry?
Which came first-poetry or art?
Which of these two is my favorite part?
Poetry speaks to the heart and soul
Through vocalization of written word,
While art molds and shapes formation
Of heart and soul once the poetic art
Of words moves to the shape the heart
Feels inspires visualization and creation
Of such dramatic, deep impact as art
Makes responsive to the poetry that
Inspires it.
Does poetry not speak of art and
Art of poetry?
Each of these takes the form
Of a smiling simile.
Art is the extension of visual beauty,
Words unspoken
As extensively connected as the
Heartfelt extension indepth beauty
Stimulates out of spoken words
Poetry admires and inspires
Deep down in the soul.
Art reflects poetic expression
Poetry visualizes mentally
While are visualizes physically-
Both of which visualize emotionally
When mutually expressed and impressed
Upon each other to create the beauty
That first created it.
poem by Bill Darrah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Great Poetry?
How could anyone ever truly
Define great poetry?
Factors are so many that contribute
To the way each person does hear-feel-and see.
The season, the day, the very time,
Along with each readers wisdom-knowledge-and mind.
A line read one day
May deeply stir the spirit
While the very next time read
The reader simply just can't 'get-it'.
Besides, who is to judge,
And who is to decide?
Who always speaks truth,
And who pray tell has never lied?
Let the one who has never struggled with emotion and word
Cast the first critical stone,
Let the pure, perfect poet
Read and write completely all alone;
Enshrined by himself
Upon his own empty throne.
After all, it is supposed to be
A bit (or more) of myth and mystery,
A little difficult to decipher, somewhat vague,
Meant to speak, but not brag.
For Goodness sake, it's poetry.
Not prose, not essay, and certainly not the news.
It's forms are many and free,
It's thoughts different and deep,
It's direction everywhere the heart can see,
It's origin, and destination, ineffable...
But to write, one must try, or die... such is the poems strength.
So, let the creator of words create.
With wild and wonderful words to decipher and debate;
And never let the beauty of it all
In trivial criticism suffocate.
What is great poetry though you still inquire?
I should have told you from the start;
(But, then you would not have listened)
Great poetry is always, and only,
Beautiful words written truly
From, and for, the heart.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!