About Tu Fu
I met Tu Fu on a mountaintop
in August when the sun was hot.
Under the shade of his big straw hat
his face was sad--
in the years since we last parted,
he'd grown wan, exhausted.
Poor old Tu Fu, I thought then,
he must be agonizing over poetry again.
Li Po
tr. Hamil
Related quotes
Poem about Poetry - Verses in the air
i am a frog
in a well
i have
met no great poets
only read
their works
on paper
stupid
of course
on papers
did they print
their verses
in the air?
but each verse
that flow from their ink
of course makes
some changes
to the world
their verses
float around
help people
discover
a new world
make a new world
for some
and complicate
some worlds
which ever group
you belong to
About Tu Fu
inspired by
I met Tu Fu on a mountaintop
in August when the sun was hot.
Under the shade of his big straw hat
his face was sad-
in the years since we last parted,
he'd grown wan, exhausted.
Poor old Tu Fu, I thought then,
he must be agonizing over poetry again.
Li Po
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An act of poetry
Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry
A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art
Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation
Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:
The pen be our salvation.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Poetry On The Chin
You gouged my mind's eye,
Tantalised all inner thought,
Shocked from unknown angles;
Sold me, told me cold,
Unfolded, moulded;
Shouldered any harbouring
Of empty morals.
You spun me round; undressed -
Pestered me with background riddle -
Piffle came to gleaning meaning.
And you stripped out prejudice - for none
Must exist in poetry,
Lest you close up an open mind
And f**k up as reader;
Lest your heart is not a bleeder -
It has to be - let it flush out
Upon your sleeve.
You lay apart my thinking brain
And let in the literary pickings of a
Great poetic phallus.
Yes, poetry can be callous.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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History
Those who lived it...
Don't come back,
To see how much of it has been changed!
Those that didn't,
Could care less!
As long as there is something there,
To plagiarize!
It's 'just' history!
Something to put a new face on,
Updated to please the masses...
And flourished!
Look what happened to Anthony and Cleopatra?
One hundred years from now...
If there's going to be,
A One Hundred Years From Now...
Martin Luther King Junior
Will have faded into being a mulatto,
And the illegitimate son of a warrior pope
Who reigned from a kingdom,
On Pennsylvania Avenue.
Nestled 'high' on a mountaintop,
In Texas!
'Someone thought to binge on surges,
Urged by the delusion to dominate'
Note:
'Thanks, Onajé G.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Watering Can...
And, what of those
Petunias gracing
Your new deck
Would they not die
If your hand
Did not carry
His water to
Feed their beauty
(Mountaintop Cottage, Tennessee
August 3,2006)
poem by Debora Short
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The Watering Can
And, what of those
Petunias gracing
Your new deck
Would they not die
If your hand
Did not carry
His water to
Feed their beauty
(Mountaintop Cottage, Tennessee
August 3,2006)
poem by Debora Short
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Straw Foot
I guess you didnt hear me
When I told you for the first time
Well dont you worry
It wont be the last
All I need a floorboard
An a wooden shoe
Step aside an let my lady through
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
Up an back around
See the high priest
He took my place
When the judge looks to me
He saw his sons face
Not gonna join you in
Your tower of babble, boy
Tired o that talkin
Im sick o that noise
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
Coverin ground
Im not alone
An looks can be deceivin
When we get down to it
Youre talkin when you
Should be leavin
Ive been to nebraska
It reminded me of spain
All the questions loaded
All my answers same
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hay foot, straw foot
Coverin ground
Let us not mince our words
Lets say it true this time
I need your forgiveness
Just like you need mine
Tell me how it is that
You dont want what hes given
It aint no sin son
To be forgiven
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
All over town
song performed by by 16 Horsepower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Genevieve On Her Twenty Ninth Birthday
Happy Birthday to you Genevieve today you are twenty nine
And with age you have grown mellow like the good expensive wine
And on looking back a decade the years simply seemed to fly
And hope this tenth day of August is a day you will enjoy.
I remember in your teen years you had dreadlocks in your hair
And when things were going against you at your mum you used to swear
But the years have made you mellow and you see things differently
And now with you and mummy dearest it's mostly love and harmony.
Happy Birthday Genevieve Ladds you are twenty nine years old
And you are a special person and your's is a heart of gold
And your friends to you important and they seem to multiply
And hope this tenth day of August is a day you will enjoy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Dont Write Poetry!
i dont write poetry...
i sweat poetry, i drink poetry,
i breathe poetry, i make love to poetry,
i fight poetry, i eat poetry,
i bleed poetry, i crap poetry...
too often i betray poetry,
sometimes i dropp poetry.
once i tripped over poetry,
got angry and kicked poetry.
i rocked poetry on a sleepless night,
i buried poetry on the hill...
i lived poetry, for i am poetry...
no, i dont write poetry,
but poetry writes me!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Other Discipline
Poetry is
not a thought
thought is
not a poetry
Poetry has own-ness
Poetry has own self
for thought pl.search other discipline.
poem by Ravindra Nath Srivastava
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First Straw
Oh a whole new way of looking at things
The way you react to phone rings
The way it feels when you just let it flow
Sometimes I wonder just how it could be
You take every bit before we see it off the rails
I think that you should know
You never cease to amaze me
You keep me from going crazy
And that's one thing I know for sure
Sometimes I see just how it all will be
Take every bit it's so easy the first straw
And this I know for sure
The first straw
So small it seemed impossible
The next straw
Vanished like shooting stars that fall
The last straw
There's no reason for getting there at all
Yeah
No reason to take it there at all
Yeah
The last straw can land in your mix
Your best day could be apocalypse
Nobody pay attention to the first straw
It seems the last one is all we ever saw
The first straw's a metaphore I pick up myself
It tells me something by showing me something else
I think that you should know
The first straw
So small it seemed impossible
The next straw
Vanished like shooting stars that fall
The last straw
There's no reason for getting there at all
Yeah
No reason to take it there at all
Yeah
Everyone reacts when it gets to the weight of breaking their back
I won't let that be us cause the long side never gave back
Yeah
The first straw
So small it seemed impossible
The next straw
Vanished like shooting stars that fall
The last straw
There's no reason for getting there at all
Yeah
The first straw
So small it seemed impossible
The next straw
Vanished like shooting stars that fall
The last straw
There's no reason for getting there at all
Yeah
song performed by by 311
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Change Of Time!
A change of time changes everything in life!
Glorious poetry turned into prose for use earlier;
Stories, novels and articles ruled prominent;
With the coming of computer poetry resurrected!
Now everybody enjoys indulging in poetry for fun;
Articles, stories and novels are superseded by poetry!
Many poetry websites entertain new poets daily;
Many enjoy poetry reading and writing at anytime!
Poetry has become cheap product for all to use;
Nobody thought that such a thing could happen!
Nobody buys poetry books but novels and magazines;
Is poetry a use and throw material only in market now?
The things that cannot be expressed in stories, novels
Are done in poetry to satisfy heart, thought and spirit!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Grown Men Dont Cry
(steve seskin, tom douglas)
I pulled into the shopping center
And saw a little boy wrapped around the legs of his mother
Like ice cream melting they embraced
Years of bad decisions runnin down her face
All mornin Id been thinkin my lifes so hard
And they wore everything they own, livin in a car
I wanted to tell him it would be ok
But I got just got in my suburban and I drove away
But I dont know why they say grown men dont cry
I dont know why they say grown men dont cry
Keep having this dream about my old man
Im 10 years old, and hes holding my hand
Were talkin on the front porch watchin the sun go down
But it was just a dream he was a slave to his job and he couldnt be around
So many things I wanna say to him
But I just placed a rose on his grave, and I talk to the wind
But I dont know why they say grown men dont cry
I dont know why they say grown men dont cry, dont cry
Im sittin here with my kids and my wife
And everything that I hold dear in my life
We say grace and thank the lord
Got so much to be thankful for
Then its up the stairs and off to bed and my little girl says
I havent had my story yet.
And everything weighin on my mind disappears just like that
When she lifts her head off her pillow and says,
I love you dad
I dont know why they say grown men dont cry
I dont know why they say grown men dont cry
And I dont know why they say grown men dont cry
I dont know why they say grown men dont cry, dont cry
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oaken-ed Soul
Voiceless wings, rising dreams
Sounds unknown
Yet, planted and nurtured
Already, Subliminal
Thought’s conversation
A love, within - discovered
A hint from an explorer’s
Heart
A desire to unburden
If only in small ways
Thought’s intoxicated
Interpretations of heart’s
Empowerment
Newly recognized, an acknowledgement
Exposed growth rings of an oaken-end soul
Begging attendance and
Courage’s fitness and focus's countenance
A re-charting of directions
Calling for
This body to make a difference
To dispense
Doses of hope
And dignity
In this so very
Rural old world
(Mountaintop Cottage, Tennessee
~ August 30,2006)
poem by Debora Short
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.
Poetry...Poetry...
poem by Akash Agrawal
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A Sunsetbonnet Blue
Irving kahal / sammy fain
A sunbonnet blue and a yellow straw hat
Shy little he and she
Were declaring love's old story
In the shade of the old apple tree,,
A sunbonnet blue and a yellow straw hat
Decided to say, "i do"
So they rode to june and glory
On a bicycle built for two
Hear the past. the song is old.
The summer days are through
With silver threads among the gold
They still say, "i love you"
A sunbonnet blue and a yellow straw hat
Are true to this very day
For he loves her in december
As he did in may
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry Is
Poetry is when she wakes up with a smile on her angel face and says thank you for watching over my breathe all night, its when I hold her and she says I miss missing you even when I’m right there next to her.
Her EYES are the mother of poetry, one of a kind, her SMILE is the goddess of poetry, rare and beautiful, her VOICE is the heaven of poetry, so sweet and gentle.
When she loves me she does so with all the poetry she has inside her, , , everything about her is poetry, her poetry speaks to me without saying anything, it touches me without holding me, it makes me feel even without her near me
SHE IS POETRY IN MY SOUL, IN MY MIND, IN MY HEART.
poem by Tendai Maturure
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Confessional
There was wine in a cup of gold
and a girl of fifteen from Wu,
her eyebrows painted dark
and with slippers of red brocade.
If her conversation was poor,
how beautifully she could sing!
Together we dined and drank
until she settled in my arms.
Behind her curtains
embroidered with lotuses,
how could I refuse
the temptation of her advances?
Li T'ai-po
tr. Hamil
Under The Blue Skies...
Under the blue skies of her native land
She languished and began to fade...
Until surely there flew without a sound
Above me, her young shade;
But there stretches between us an uncrossable line.
In vain my feelings I tried to awaken.
The lips that brought the news were made of stone,
And I listened like a stone, unshaken.
So this is she for whom my soul once burned
In the tense and heavy fire,
Obsessed, exhausted, driven out of my mind
By tenderness and desire!
Where are the torments? Where is love? Alas!
For the unreturning days'
Sweet memory, and for the poor credulous
Shade, I find no lament, no tears.
poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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Poetry Is All In One!
Passion for poetry is insatiable!
Poetry gives pleasure nothing can!
Poetry is many subjects under one roof!
Poetry never bores to write and read ever!
Poetry is a compression of many ideas in a nut shell!
Poetry displays power of pen to capture men ever!
Poetry captures as photo castles built in air!
Poetry is spontaneous over flow of ides!
Poetry flows free if extemporary!
Poetry is prolific words sure!
Poetry is a thing of joy!
Poetry is beauty!
Poetry is witty!
Poetry cheers!
poem by Ramesh T A
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