So Often This Is Done
It is difficult to maintain one's rights,
When another takes creative license...
With a purpose to drive,
Their own topic home!
With an assisted 'lift'
From what is already produced...
To do what it is they like with it!
Innovation this is not.
An ability to steal?
Yes.
And so often this is done,
By those who 'call' themselves writers...
Poets or anyone without a vision,
To recycle or restate what someone has written.
To advance whatever it is they have...not,
To pass on as their own creativity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Innovation
Is it easier to become 'creative'
When one pleasures ideals with theft?
Is it easier to manipulate,
What someone else has done...
To welcome the inspiration,
Of one who has none!
Creativity comes from something perceived.
Something produced from nothing,
That one has achieved.
But there are those who believe,
Distorting an accomplishment...
Will heighten an enlightenment of these deeds.
With no one to suspect at all...
Their minds are innovation free.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Very Few Know The Difference
The attention given to not paying it...
Will soon be in conversations mentioned.
To refuse to get involve and to solve what is seen,
When it appears initially on the scene...
Has produced its regrets!
In such an obviousness.
And...
There is no 'catch up' in time to be gotten either.
It is easier to forget...
That which one should have never forgotten.
A loss of self respect...
Will not generate a life of sweetened fragrances.
There are steps one takes that should connect,
To strengthen one's comprehension that identifies a purpose.
And very few know the difference between purpose...
That has lost a vision and a vision that has no depth to be seen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Value Fever Pitch: An Artist’s Time
Bhoman F Jamhari said
'I am an artist - This does not
mean I will work for free.
I have bills just like you.
Thank you for understanding.'
Polite and to the problematic point.
Anyone who thinks believes
an artist’s time is worthless,
is definitely a person an artist
should avoid; such individuals
cannot comprehend
or remotely understand
aesthetic value of art.
Art takes time to produce.
Vision and artistic skill takes
even longer to realize to attain
expanding horizons. Time costs.
Artists of differing genre value
appreciate each other and art
which suits their temperament.
To create art
is the life blood
of an artist.
The air we breathe
is the home of art.
Creativity is our fevered mind songs
we sing in a legacy of image visions.
What kind of a con artist wants
to steal bread from an artist’s mouth;
therefore limiting the quality quantity
of future works of art, to be produced
by that artist. Answer an enemy of art.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Will The Words Come Back?
Words slip off our pen
like warm butter off a knife.
They fall in unison across the page
with everything we write.
Then one day the words don’t flow
in unison like they used to before.
They have no rhythm within them
and just become no more than words.
We look at what we’ve written
and there is no bounce in them.
The words become no more than words
once written by a creative hand.
There is no meaning in what they say
they have no heart anymore.
They are just words written on a page
with no rhyme or reason for them being there.
Some call it a writer’s block;
others call it stagnation of the mind.
The creative juices fall away to nothing,
no spark to be kindled,
no emotions to be released,
no protests to be made,
no stories to be assembled
like a jigsaw in your mind.
Just an empty pen with words
that don’t make sense anymore.
Struggles without feeling,
ideas leading nowhere
on a spiralling downward turn.
You are no longer a writer,
your creativity is gone
and the only question you have,
will the words come came back?
13 July 2009
poem by David Harris

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Technology is driving the innovation. Technology is driving the creativity. Technology and the use of that is going to determine our workers' ability to compete in the 21st century global marketplace.
Valley Of The Ghouls
Energized with a sacrifice,
To remain devoted to purpose...
And a disciplined life.
Is a lonely proposition...
For those walking on a path,
That breaks away from traditions.
And pre-conditions as if accepted missions.
Achieving with dignity and a motivation to fulfill...
At times can promote discouragement.
And attention from those mean spirited...
Out to kill goodwill!
And this they will...
As if skilled.
It is difficult to maintain in the valley of the ghouls.
Those who rush to confirm the dead through obituaries.
Those who nourish upon others' despair.
Those who delight in ruling over their blight!
As if this ignites their wicked moods with added fuel.
It is difficult to maintain in the valley of the ghouls.
Those rushing from repast to repast...
To sip and dine to leave.
These are the people holding their breaths...
With a more interest in death,
Than to living lives invested...
In a happiness to manifest.
It is difficult,
To maintain...
In the valley of the ghouls.
When people express,
How good someone looks...
Dressed!
And appearing...
To be at peace in a restful death!
It is difficult,
To maintain...
In the valley of the ghouls.
When people express,
How good someone looks...
Dressed!
And appearing...
To be at peace in a restful death.
Oh yes...
It is difficult,
To maintain...
In the valley of the ghouls.
When people express,
How good someone looks...
Dressed!
And appearing...
To be at peace in a restful death.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Those of Creative Inclinations
I love it!
When those who perceive,
My ceative sensibilities...
Exposes a sensitivity,
That implies a character weakness.
Those of creative inclinations are often compared.
With limp wrists and tea cups!
But there are very few I now know or then knew,
Who were shy to tell anyone a thing or two...
Or where to go!
Anyone connected to this creative process knows...
It is not a joke.
Not this process carefully invoked...
To provoke a higher consciousness.
Growing older makes one aware,
Of the strength involved in this!
Nor made of fluff are these creative disciplines.
The only ones who believe they are...
Are those who have unruly children.
And have themselves disconnected...
From the creations of their realities.
Wishing to perceive,
Those of creativity are lazy!
Which for the most part,
Has been reluctantly failures man made!
To get a quick buck.
To find themselves at dead ends...
And out of luck!
Shall I say...
On their 'lazy' butts.
Remove the creative process out of schools...
And the manufacturing of fools are produced.
But then again...
I need not to say that today,
Do I?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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The three parts of the theory are analytical ability, the ability to analyze things to judge, to criticize. Creative, the ability to create, to invent and discover and practical, the ability to apply and use what you know.
quote by Robert Sternberg

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shakespeare Has Left The Stage
creativity insistent demands
constant favoured
singular lip service consummated
creativity denied
moves on muted
to other receptive
minds hearts lives
insistent themes must be espoused
that which should be written
should be written into being
that which must be written
must be written into eternity
muse is insistent mistress
great works must be written
Shakespeare has left the stage
who will take up gauntlet challenge
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Good writers borrow from other writers. Great writers steal from them outright.
quote by Aaron Sorkin

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Applause from the mass
Since the time immemorial,
Poets have hated the fellow poets
And the writers, the fellow writers.
They went to the mass for applause.
12.08.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Writers and poets
Think they can be immortal
By ink a pen
But everything ever written
Will rot as autumn leaves do.
tanka by Oskar Hansen

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Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different.
quote by T.S. Eliot (1920)

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Begging to Be Read
Someone begging to be read,
Has an ego to be fed.
Has some insecurity,
About what it is they do.
Do poets really concern themselves...
About how their visions are pursued?
And who critiques?
For a rating to compete?
Where is the depthness in this?
Do true writers persist to enlist readers...
With an agitation seen to exist?
It doesn't seem sincere or authentic at all!
It seems shallow and egotistical.
To call for something to be read...
That lacks content and purpose.
And found to be dull, afterall!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Exile
The Exile.
You can’t leave this town for the next six years, the magistrate had said.
Rang my house, no one there, I wanted someone to send for my dog so
I had good company in my exile; hoped my neighbour fed the cur and
didn’t put it down. I could not drive my car since I didn’t have the right
license, and could not obtain one since I didn’t had the right documents.
The car stands there rusting away when I don’t sit in it pretending to
drive, or sleep in it when I’m too tired to walk up to the sixth floor, when
the lift has broken down or used it as a toilet. A man, in facebook, said
he was in New Orleans, very well for him, but what made him tell me this,
did he try to impress me? I, who live in a town where I can see the sea,
from my window and need not live in fear of bursting levies. I’m going for
a walk, a ghost alive, on the way to the bus terminal, people move aside-
a ship ploughing the water. I’ll board a bus and see where it takes me.
The bus I took yesterday only drove around the suburbia, many houses up
for sale, but I wasn’t going to buy any of them. Can’t think of anything more
forlorn than a vacant house I hear echo of crying and distressed voice.
It is the bank’s castle now. My cottage is empty too, outside sits a dog,
waits for me to come home.
poem by Oskar Hansen

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Given A Llicense With Rights To Thieve
I don't know why it should now come,
To bother me.
That so many believe,
They've been given a license...
With rights to thieve.
And experience always teaches,
What is taken dishonestly...
Pays no just rewards.
But those perceiving they have achieve,
Greater heights by theft...
Usually become the ones frightened,
That their appetites have taken a last bite.
With a pacing done on a floor...
In the wee hours beyond midnight.
I don't know why it should now come,
To bother me.
That so many believe,
They've been given a license...
With rights to thieve.
As I find I am the one who can not sleep,
While others are pacing their floors...
Seeking new and fresh ways to deceive.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Ideas Concepts Which Intrigue
some poets
writers prefer to write
shadows echoes
imitations of thoughts
writers they esteem
have written which captures
their imagination expresses
ideas concepts which intrigue
imitations can be interesting variants
tributes to originals
or ideas a poet or writer feels
compelled to express
poem by Terence George Craddock

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Young Reviews
Some young poets may mistake
Reviews as a door for more discussion
A vast arena where one can make
An endless lane for Argumentation.
Reviewing further on a review
The comment box becomes gibe talk
Topic diverted to irrelevant issues
Until its there that Gossip walks
Perhaps a line has to be drawn
Where Poetry as art should have a place
Center the review on what it spawns
The impact, the theme, what the poems says
-------------
This poem was written as a satire for young poets
who have mistaken the comment box as a place for pointless
discussion/arguments and some have gone so far as talk
about an erring mother (the subject of a poem) . Such
practice diverts the purpose for reviews - which is to
comment on the poem - not on the character or subject,
for then it ends up as a 'gossip box'.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello

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Innovation is creativity with a job to do.
quote by John Emmerling

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Discovery of Poetry! ! !
I used to write poetry for the fame, attention and exposure
So people can say “CJ the Young Phenomenon such an honor”
But now I see that poetry is nothing to prove but show true art
As I shown my creative ways of I see in this world soul purpose
From down beneath the soil of my life and planting a seed of change
For my children to be surrounded by different sights of art forms
Visual, vocal and hearing each one will open a gate of creativity
With a visual he can see his future and his visual images of faith
With vocal she can speak her fluid words of her masterpiece thesis
And finally with their hearing echoing to the world’s cries for savior
They’ll be the one to stand for the change and revolutionized lifestyles
To live better and to express imagination and creativity for all to see
You’ll see them as scholars, freedom writers, or even saviors to all
But I’ll called them my sons and daughters, my blessings to the world
My children of poetry for all to see and follow and elevate to the highest
As the generation of poetry will excel as the beliefs of poetry are believable
As to keep poetry alive is to express it deeply, truthful and creatively as possible
poem by Compton Wright

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