No One Listens To A Poet…
Poets bang drums loudly, to awaken
Those who slumber these dark nights
Fruit can’t be eaten, lest tree is shaken
So they shove, pull and promote fights
Poets challenge, cajole and aggravate
Those saying “I don’t wanna know it”
Alas;
No one listens to a poet ‘til it’s too late
They have some nasty scars to prove it
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Good Poets and Bad Poets
Some poets get awards and think they are good poets.
Some poets never get awards and think they are bad poets.
Some poets think they are good poets only in their own mind
Some poets think they are bad poets in somebody's else mind.
Some poets think they are good poets in somebody else mind.
Some poets think others think they are good poets but they don't in their hearts.
Some poets think they are good poets in their hearts but not in anyone else's mind.
All are insecure, except those who get security from the opinions of others and that, alas, doesn't last and isn't real.
Some poets have left the entire scene and live only in their mind.
Some poets take criticism and don't mind.
Some poets avoid criticism and do mind.
Some poets write poetry to get love.
Some poets love to write poetry.
Some poets are ahead of their time, in their mind
Some poets spend a lifetime feeling like failures in their mind
Some poets live only after they die.
Some poets have much to say but can't articulate
Some poets retreat, believing others don't understand
So which one of these am I?
I guess I am all of these and none of these
and no matter what my description
I intend to keep doing what I do:
Write. Right
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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I Am Not The Poet's Poet But Perhaps The Would- Be- Poet's Would-Be Poet
I AM NOT THE POET’S POET BUT PERHAPS THE WOULD- BE- POETS WOULD – BE –POET
I am not the poet’s poet-
The one poets of name and fame admire-
But perhaps the would- be- poets would be – poet-
Who tries to be a poet
And tries to understand what it means
To love poetry and live by writing it
Even when the world does not recognize me..
.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grand Awakening
Time is right, that man awaken
By fully activating “Junk DNA”
Fruit won’t fall till tree is shaken
Then “Law of One” we shall obey
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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The poet's page
Like a band of beggars
Revealing to each other
Where to find the bread
Is the poets page
An open line
Where poets reveal what's
Inside their heads
A platform of
Artistic exchange
Where an accompany of poets
Express what should be said,
As the
Words seems to take on life
For they are poet read
Poets can feel one anothers pain
As well as relates to each
others shame
Emphasizing on a topic is
A poet's personal lane
Poets dvides the spoil
As they expand, due to
sharing their gain
This is partly my analogy
Of a poet's fame
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the world of poetry there are would-be poets, workshop poets, promising poets, lovesick poets, university poets, and a few real poets.
quote by James Broughton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A poor pen
Pen is
Not great...
On the paper...
poet write at
Moon+ sky...
Stars...
Earth and sea...
All are in poets
Hand only
At poets hand...
Poets is think...
Poets dream...
Thats all
pen is very poor
Noock out...
undrestad to try...
Try too under stand....
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0005 Totally Boring Poem
I’m totally bored by:
poems that sound like other poems
poems that try to sound unlike any other poems
poets who never take risks
poets who think that taking risks
makes them good poets
poems with 'meaning'
poems with no meaning
poets who slag off other poets
as if that achieves something
poets that tell you that rhyme
is not for an age but for all time
poets that tell you that rhyme is outmoded and boring
poets who think that the poetry of 'the past'
is greater than that of 'the present'
poets who think that the poetry of 'the present'
is greater than that of 'the past'
poems that tell you the poet's the first to discover sex
poets that tell you they’re the best sex you’ll ever have
although you’ll never meet them to find out
poets that tell you they’ve been dumped
poets who've never known love and being dumped
poets who are ambitious
poets who are unambitious
poets who tell you all about higher things
poets who reject higher things
poets who think life’s just a joke
poets who think life’s no joke
poets who sit on the fence
poets who have no sense of balance
poets who despise 'the middle ground'
poets who talk about technique
poets with no technique
poets who just throw down their thoughts
poets who 'work up' their poems to a self-satisfied polish
poets who list what they like (who cares?)
poets who list what don’t like (who cares?)
poets who write about extreme states
poets who think they’re immune to extreme states
poets who tell you why they’re bored
poets who have opinions
poets who seem to have no opinions at all
poets who have boring opinions to air - why choose poetry?
poets who comment on others' poems
as if it's the last word
poets who never bother to comment
on others' poems
poets who don't love poetry passionately
poets who tell you they 'love poetry passionately'
poets who – oh I’m too bored to go on reading this,
how about you?
I suppose you have boring opinions too?
another time perhaps
and oh yes I'm most of all bored by
those who waste their precious time on this earth
being bored
well I feel better for that.
how about you?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Oh These Poets And Their Sounds
OH THESE POETS AND THEIR SOUNDS
Oh these poets and their sounds
Their distant rhythms
Which take your soul away-
Oh these poets and their sounds
And the longing to be
One of them-
Oh this poet
And all his cry of loneliness-
Oh these poets and their sounds,
And he in his own small voice
Crying out lonely words
Before his own lonely page.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Who to blame for writers block?
Risen up from his cold dark tomb
the malevolent poet is alive again
his evil master has given him power
to confuse poets and bring them pain.
He's invisible to the poets eye
and he doesn't make a sound
his mission is to bring writers block
to all poets everywhere around.
The unaware poet stares at a blank screen
unable to create one single verse
the satanic force takes over his mind
his thoughts go from bad to worse.
The romantic poet thinks about death
his thoughts no longer on love and light
he wants to write about misery and war
and things that go bump in the night.
So the next time you can't write a poem
and your sitting there full of despair
you now know it's not you who's at fault
but it's the evil poet and he's over there!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Dark Nights
Dark nights, stars are burning billions of miles away, in the hollows of the black sky. That is how she feels all the time.
Dark nights, how will she navigate her way, find her way, when all she can see in the nothingness all around her.
Dark nights, she screams at the nothingness thats around her. she screams at the numbness inside her, the pains she cannot get away from, and the coldness that drowns her.
Dark nights, no one knows about the fights she fights alones, trapted inside her own self.
She is stuck in the darkness, the nothingness, and the numbness.
the dreadful dark nights she is comsumed by. she doesnt want no one's help. she wants to do this on her own.
dark nights, she is actually comfortable here. she is used to it here. she belongs here
at least for now.
Dark nights, it is her one place she is accepted. no one knows her, no one is there.
Dark nights, it is a place of her own. A place she created. no judgements.
The dark nights ask nothing of her, the dark nights has no expectations of her.
She owns the Dark nights.
poem by Ashley Dowdy
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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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Dark Nights
Dark nights, stars are burning billions of miles away, in the hollows of the black sky. That is how she feels all the time.
Dark nights, how will she navigate her way, find her way, when all she can see in the nothingness all around her.
Dark nights, she screams at the nothingness the around her. She screams at the numbness inside her, the pains she cannot get away from, and the coldness that drowns her.
Dark nights, no one knows about the fights she fights alones, trapped inside her own self.
She is stuck in the darkness, the nothingness, and the numbness.
The dreadful dark nights she is consumed by. She doesn’t want no one's help. she wants to do this on her own.
Dark nights, she is actually comfortable here. She is used to it here. she belongs here
at least for now.
Dark nights, it is her one place she is accepted. No one knows her, no one is there.
Dark nights, it is a place of her own. A place she created. No judgments.
The dark nights ask nothing of her, the dark night does not have any expectations of her.
She owns the Dark nights.
poem by Ashley Joyce Forbus
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We As Poets
We as poets must command a sacred accent over a language of our choice,
We as poets must gift the minds of a failing generation,
We as poets must demand a clear explanation and a fair occupation,
We as poets must dissolve into particles and dust if we have not known enough,
We as poets must destroy the living standards of low quality,
We are to be the poetry of utmost perception and suffering.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Milton challenges you all poets
Mentor Milton is gone
His heir is on
Today let you all know
The power of Milton reigns in me
For you should all hide your pen
I challenge you all
My poetry is the door to our century
I challenge you all
Am Oba king of poet
For who shall challenge
All poets are fools
Nay, the world is new
Respond my summon if truly you are great
Ignore, believing i am great
I challenge you all fools
Be-mused
She's a wee voice residing in my soul
Relentlessly she'll wheedle, beg, cajole
Forcing me to write, 'tho I'd rather play
Alas; to her I'm but a lump of clay
ROTMS
View images, video and poems at:
rotms.blogspot.com
poem by Ray Lucero
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The Poet Tree
Rustle, little leaves above, rustle in the breeze...
Rustle, little leaves of love, rustle mid God's peace!
Rustle, every night and day, rustle every hour...
Rustle, rustle, come what may, rustle mid God's power!
Rustle, for then wise words are formed,
Great expectations made!
Through such as these, men's hearts are warmed
And children's prayers are prayed!
Rustle upon the Poet Tree,
Above the poets' ears,
So they may learn each melody,
These God-picked volunteers...
Rustle sweetly, and gently on,
Persist from age to age -
Let all God's poets write upon
Their separate nearby page...
Rustle until all humans die
And no more poets live!
Until no soul would question, 'Why? '
And there's no cause to give!
Rustle until God tells you stop,
'Dear friends, at last, be free...
'Tis time for you to fall, to drop...
Beneath the Poet Tree...
I've loved each poem, every one...
And Jesus loved them, too!
You've blessed the world! Your task is done!
Your rustle days are through...'
poem by Denis Martindale
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Naughty Words!
Often words are but tiny turds of humor and of wit,
Flotsam in a poets mind…“Oh my, what junk, what shit! ”
Alas, it’s true at times words can form a perfect line,
“How wonderful, how clever” the words are so sublime
When all is said 'n done, its truth that’s clear 'n real,
By writing what we see 'n hear...especially what we feel
Write on poets!
There be no rules that we must heed or follow
Drink in the gifts of words sweet chums...
But don’t forget to swallow!
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Dark Poets
rain come touch my heart
wake me up inside
seems if i had sleep
100 years without knowing
wash my tears away
dark poets
give me your strenght
and open my eyes
open my heart
to let the rain in
dark poets
dont let me close my heart
dont stop the rain
oh dark poets
let the rain come in
forever falling deep insede
daek poets
let the rain into my heart
poem by Guadalupe martinez
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Shove
Woke up confused in a place I didnt know
And heard the hissing of an overused stem
The air around me is corrupt and on the take
Heard someone shout I think hes breathing again
It seems at first that no-one ever succeeds
You shove and shove until youre ready for more
And if the truth forgets to visit again
Dont take offense, hes never been here before
Shove! shove! shove! shove!
Shove in my head
Shove! shove! shove! shove!
Shoves you instead
Shove! shove! shove!
Puts you flat on your back
Shove! shove! shove!
Till the quiet attacks
Feels just like someone sank their teeth in my head
They tried to suck away my everlasting soul
I talked to God and all his literary friends
Said I was late so I just shoved it in again
Shove it again!
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poets Expresion
People are for ever correcting
A poet's right to express
Those of us who use English
As a second language
At times do make mistakes
But a Poets Expression
Stamps a mark on your mind
To imagine and dream
About worlds of the unknown
You delve in their minds
And stir the images of life
And implant them your expressions
Your expressions on life
Poets are many with their
Own impressions on life
Give up to the poet's
And clap them with praise
So from this poet who dreams?
To be just like them
Wise and experienced
In sharing my dreams
Fare thee well good poets
Encore and good night
poem by Kaila George
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