Octavio Paz

No More Clichés

Beautiful face
That like a daisy opens its petals to the sun
So do you
Open your face to me as I turn the page.

Enchanting smile
Any man would be under your spell,
Oh, beauty of a magazine.

How many poems have been written to you?
How many Dantes have written to you, Beatrice?
To your obsessive illusion
To you manufacture fantasy.

But today I won't make one more Cliché
And write this poem to you.
No, no more clichés.

This poem is dedicated to those women
Whose beauty is in their charm,
In their intelligence,
In their character,
Not on their fabricated looks.

This poem is to you women,
That like a Shahrazade wake up
Everyday with a new story to tell,
A story that sings for change
That hopes for battles:
Battles for the love of the united flesh
Battles for passions aroused by a new day
Battle for the neglected rights
Or just battles to survive one more night.

Yes, to you women in a world of pain
To you, bright star in this ever-spending universe
To you, fighter of a thousand-and-one fights
To you, friend of my heart.

From now on, my head won't look down to a magazine
Rather, it will contemplate the night
And its bright stars,
And so, no more clichés.

poem by Octavio PazReport problemRelated quotes
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You break every cliché (a reply to Octavio Paz)

As I turn the magazine’s page
I see your lovely face
catching my eyes
like a morning glory opening
for the sun in a clear sapphire blue sky

and the glitter of your teeth
shines like a set of perfect pearls
and the lines beneath your dress
draws attention to your sheer beauty

and I write this poem to you
whose intelligence and character
I know from the times
that we have met
and I know that there is much more
to you, than photo perfect looks.

Far too many men view you
as just one more shallow head
and instead I know that your beauty
comes deep from your heart,
that it’s part of your soul
and that your integrity
makes you to break every cliché

and that your good humour
and sharp whit
makes you a pleasure to be with
and that you break
the frames that people set you in
by just being you.

[Reference: No More Clichés by Octavio Paz.]

poem by Gert StrydomReport problemRelated quotes
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We Battle To See Acts Of Love

You can battle any illness you wish...
But,
Battle with the act of love.

You can fill you mind with terrorists...
That keep your fears endearing.
But the fact your battles fought have no love.

And don't you know that you...
The giving up of anything,
Will return.
So why not battle with the act of love.

Burdens carried on one's back,
Seem to be attached...
'Cause they don't do their,
Battles with love.

Those who pick their battles,
Pick their battles without facts.
'Cause many have no protected love.

If there is love,
There is a battle...
But the battle can be won,
With a love that's felt in everyone.

Those who pick their battles,
Pick their battles without facts.
'Cause many have no protected love.

You can battle any illness you wish...
But,
Battle with the act of love.

You can battle any illness you wish...
But,
Battle with the act of love.

Those who pick their battles,
Pick their battles without facts.
'Cause many have no protected love.

Those who pick their battles,
Pick their battles without facts.
'Cause many have no protected love.

If we pick our battles,
We must be matter of fact....
That we battle to see acts of love.

We battle to see acts of love.
Let's say we do it...
That we battle to see acts of love!

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The Poem I Did Not Write Today

THE POEM I DID NOT WRITE TODAY

The poem I did not write today
Will never be written.
No one knows what it is
Or where it is
'How it can be? ' is another question
No one can answer.

The poem I did not write today
Never went away
It is always here with me and with you
It is the same simple poem
Written over and over again
In our everyday minds.

It is the poem of love of life
The poem of happiness
The poem of belief in God
And in the goodness in the world to come
It is the poem which believes too that poetry will help save the world.

It is the good poem
The happy poem
The poem I did not write today
Is the poem my life is writing now and always
And with you it says
‘What a miracle it is that we are here
reading and writing
and loving life as we do’.

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I Wanted To Write The Most Beautiful Poem

I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
The one beyond any music I had known-
The one which would reveal the changes
in yellows and greens
spring sunlight whispered to the trees

I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
The one which would tell the stories of all those I have loved and cared for-
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
As a poem of Kindness-

I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
Of sublime and overpowering distance
Of stars when stars were dreams -

I wanted to write the most beautiful poem-

But I knew many other poems already written
Would always be far more beautiful than mine-

So I tried to write the most beautiful poem I could-

But the light outside
The world and its colors
The beauties we see and hear everyday
Said to me again and again,

'Walk more humbly with your God and do Justice and love Mercy also'.

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Young women today often have very little appreciation for the real battles that took place to get women where they are today in this country. I don't know how much history young women today know about those battles.

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This Is My Poem

This is my poem of ______. (date)
This is my poem, written by myself.
This is my first poem never written.
This is my last poem now to be written.
This is the poem I would have written
if I had lived yesterday what I lived today.

This is my poem changing white light
into gold-leaf
and blue into violet.

This is my poem like a heaven twisting
and turning inside of me
all night long.

This is my poem of opening a window
to show what was always inside.

This is my poem encompassing everything
hope can bestow or chance agree with.

This is my poem of open-ended freedom.

This is my poem breathing life into motion.

This is my poem written as I wrote it
a living being.

And this is my poem ending;
but only for today..

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Starlight

Up to the sky
I'm just only a little star
My faint color seen from a far
Loyal to love the night
I am not the brightest one
But i share the light
In my simple poem
Talking about you and me
Reason why this poem was written
In a paper, but in heart you will not be forgotten

Up to the sky
Just a little star, someone who i am
Your wish reaches me up to the sky
Sending me a shine in thousands miles
So i twinkle you little bright smile
and I will keep shine till i die

In a big space of glory
I am only a little star
Even we are far my dearies
The shine is our story

For loyalty and wishing on me
I could be your fallen star
Wish all the best of all
Catch when you are fall
Hope our shine forget it all

I am just a little star
when each of you stick with me
It makes me feel like a biggest one
Each wish goes through this night
sending me more stunning light
Beautiful me, I gain intense bright
But the shine is our story
In a big space of glory

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : THANK YOU: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
What a huge day of 13th of July, everyone
send light to me for a smile, so this only i can
give, the big smile as my reply...I am just
a little star but with all of you the night
we shared glory in perfect shiny story
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

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Will I Have A Poem Tonight?

WILL I HAVE A POEM TONIGHT?

Will I have a poem tonight?
Or will tiredness take me to bed
Without an answer?
Will I be able to find within myself
Some sounds of meaning
Some hint of beauty?
Something deeper than the darkness outside
As real as the longing within?

The poem which is written about the poem which is not
Is the poem which is written about the poem which is
And the poem which is
Is tonight the poem of the night
And the poem of the night tonight
Is the poem this poem is.

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The Poem Of All The Places I Have Never Been

THE POEM OF ALL THE PLACES I HAVE NEVER BEEN

The poem of all the places I have never been
The poem of all the dreams I have not seen
The poem of others poems written in lines I have never imagined
The poem of the infinite – what-is- not and ‘what- will- never- be
The poem of seas and suns and sounds and Shakespeare’s sonnets,
The poem of words and only words whose sounds do not mean what we feel
The poem of all I would not and cannot write
The poem that is not and never will be in me
The poem I do not write
The poem I am not
The poem lost
The poem which itself is not a poem
The poem of the last contradiction and the first
The poem beyond the poem hidden within the poem
The poem which will never be a poem
The poem which is not
The poem I cannot dream.

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For Every Poem We Write

FOR EVERY POEM WE WRITE

FOR EVERY POEM WE WRITE

For every poem we write
Many others not written-
There are more potential poems
In the universe
Than stars,
And more stars
Than all the people
Who have been on earth-
And more people now
Than we will ever write the story of.

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Love story

Love story
~
And somewhere it may be written
a love story not of fairy-tales
or a Hollywood blockbuster
neither the best selling novel
of some highly respect author
or a poetic sonnet which sings
odes to sweet undying passion
it is more simple, honest
a love story of modern times
which bypasses the ageless classics
and clichés of romance
it may not make you cry
but it still remains a love story
lacking high drama or duels fought
mistakes are made and learnt from
and the happy ending still awaits
to be realised and celebrated
but somewhere it is written
in diary or letter form
the love story to this poem

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The Poem That Perhaps Never Should Have Been Written

THE POEM THAT PERHAPS NEVER SHOULD HAVE BEEN WRITTEN

Not the poem of yesterday
Nor the poem of tomorrow
But the poem of today-
What gives life meaning now.
Not the poem as it is read
But the poem as it is written.
Not the certain poem
But the poem that does not know
If it truly is a poem.
The poem that gives hope only when it is written-
The lesser poem-
The poem that perhaps never should have been written.
The poem I am writing now,
Perhaps for myself alone
The lesser poem
The poem that perhaps should never have been at all.

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A poem for you...

I write a poem for you today,
to get a place in your heart for ever
A poem that could tell you my love for you
I write my poem with emotion and affection
for you to understand my deep thoughts for you
A poem to love and a poem to understand its soul
A poem to enjoy and a poem to understand its happiness
A poem to think and a poem to understand its way of life
A poem to learn and a poem to understand its content
A poem to sing and a poem to understand its melody
A poem to cry and a poem to understand its sorrow
There are poems I have written but this is specially for you
The poem could tell you how important you are for me
There are words comes out freely from my mind to write poem
but there are no words to find my love for you
Those words can not missed as I miss your love today
Let me have all those words put in to my heart and
say I love to write a love poem for you


Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka

Copyright ©2004 Ravi Sathasivam

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There Is A Poem Which Is Not A Poem

THERE IS A POEM WHICH IS NOT A POEM

There is a poem which is not a poem
Its mind breaks its music
Its heart is too much in thought.
It does not sing us to somewhere else.

There is a poem which is not a poem
Prosaic confessional flat,
Its says its single thing from the soul
And leaves the page without implication.

How many such poems have I written
As I write this one now?

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I Write To Write To Write

I WANT TO WRITE TO WRITE TO WRITE

I write to write to write-
A poem must be more than a straining against Emptiness-
A poem must be more than making a name.
A poem should be food for the heart and soul and mind
It should make us feel the world with new love
It should make us want to live more and more
A poem should make us love life
It should be written for its readers
And not for its poet alone
A poem should make us want to be in this world
In greater beauty and greater love.

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The Poem That Speaks Of Nothing

The poem that speaks of nothing
Tells of nothing convoluted at all.
It has no need of metering,
Or of emotions that rise and fall.

The poem that has no content
Lacks subject matter to cover.
So forget the flowers that you sent
To your faithful lover.

The poem devoid of plot
Has no farfetched tale to tell.
There’s no mention of battles fought
Against the very spawn of Hell.

The poem in absence of metaphors
Is not written by someone who will
Tell of reposing forevermore
Or of running naked through the hill.

The poem that speaks of nothing
Dares not mention the roaring sea.
And the poem that speaks of nothing
That is the poem for me.

(veritas h.s.2005)

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The Poem That Is About To Be Written

THE POEM THAT IS ABOUT TO BE WRITTEN

The poem that is about to be written
Will form itself slowly,
Line by line,
Will make of itself a meaning
It does not know.
Will be beyond
All that it could have thought to be – beforehand.
The poem that is being written
Has no name,
No face,
No beauty,
No light,
It is just the poem that is coming to be in the silence,
Where I am alone with my own Seeming.

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The Poem About The Poem About The Poem

THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM

The poem about the poem about the poem
Written in dream
And forgotten in sleep
Comes back to me slowly now
As if it had been away on a long long journey
And is reluctant to come home-

I write it
But it really writes me
And when I try to make sense of what it means
It tells me its ambiguities
Are more important and interesting
Than my clarity-

The poem about the poem about the poem
Written now
May not be a poem about a poem about a poem at all
But may merely be my own playing with words
Which take the place in my life
Of really living-

A poem about a poem about a poem?
Surely this is a mysterious thing
If it exists at all.

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Nothing..

This poem is not about love..
This poem is not about pain..
This poem is not about the things i have learned...

This poem is not for the broken hearted..
This poem is not for the ones seeking help..
This poem is not for the depressed...
This poem is for no one,
Because no one can contain nothing...

This poem is not filled with wisdom..
This poem was not written with love...
This poem was not written for a lover nor a brother...

This poem was nothing special...
Not quite remarkable....
But it is nothing because that what it was...
Nothing and it will never be anything...

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Is There A Poem For Me Today?

IS THERE A POEM FOR ME TODAY?

Is there a poem for me today?
Is there in this vast universe
One poem for me?
Will G-d who has given me
so many poems
give me a poem today?

I try to write
across this page
I try to say
I have been given a poem today.

I do not know
The lines here now say:

“You in vain and in vanity write
lonely to hear your own name.”

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