Double Faced Poet
double faced poet
like day and night
light and darkness,
the bad side of
the other good side,
that is not what i
really mean,
it is not about good
and/or evil, it is about
how we do things:
poetry at night
and bread and butter
during the day, something
that makes the terror
of our creativity,
moon and sun
they may not come together
but they must exist
to make the whole
narration of a complete event.
rushing myself to write a poem
and then rethinking things over
a decision between life and/or death
liberty and/or prison, and so on and so forth,
this time, as you read, it is poetry.
as i sign out, it will be another face of me.
it is something that you cannot read.
it is hidden by the clouds
behind the sun and the moon and the stars.
it is something that disgusts me.
it is something that i do most of the time.
apart from this poem.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Not a Poem Poem
A Not a Poem Poem
I will not write a poem
For I am not a poet
I cannot makes things rhyme
I’ve tried for quite some time
So will I write a poem?
NO!
I can’t write poetry
I’ve tried to all my life
Once, I tried to write a poem
About a husband and his wife
It sounded really silly
So I crumbled it up into a ball
That’s why I decided
That I couldn’t write poetry at all
Am I gonna write a poem?
NO!
Well, I’ll try to write a poem
But it will be really bad
It will be absolutely lousy
It will be completely horrible
It won’t be up to snuff
People will say, “Who wrote this stuff? ”
Will my poem be good?
NO!
Can I write a poem?
NO!
Will I write a poem?
NO!
Well, what do you know! ? !
I wrote a poem!
And it’s a pretty good poem, too!
I guess I can write poetry if I try
The next time I’m asked to write a poem,
Will I say no?
NO!
Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !
Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !
Why are we addicted to Poetry?
We Poets who write,
All day or all night,
That Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !
There’s scarce a moment in time,
That thoughts don’t find words in rhyme,
To put into verse,
Whether better or worse,
In that Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !
Why do we write all these Verses?
We must have better things to do,
But whatever we try,
And I don’t know why,
We write Poem upon Poem for you.
It’s funny how my style has changed,
It’s a Limerick today I’ve composed,
It wasn’t meant to be,
But it is ~ you can see,
Just Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !
© Yisroel Yonatan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 26 January 2006
poem by Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You are the poet
Poet is a journalist
Watches the feelings
Watches the emotions
Watches the world
Watches the light and
Watches the dark
He thinks everywhere
Others can’t imagine
-o-
Chasing the thoughts
Searching the words
Forming the sentences
To give the expression
To put the life in it
-o-
Poet is like a cook
Collecting good ingredients
Cooking the feelings to
Present in better way
-o-
Poet is like a soldier
Fighting in the war and
Fighting with the self
Feeling the pain and
Bleeding the emotions
Making room for self
To express the story
To save the people
-o-
Poet is like mother
Cooking the soft food
Feeding smoothly
Treating the readers like his own kids
Reader’s happiness is poet’s happiness
If you can’t praise, no problem
But don’t forget to acknowledge
-o-
Poet is the center of universe
Editors, Music directors,
Composers, singers, musicians,
Media everybody is rotating around
-o-
Poet writes to quench intellectuals
Poet writes to entertain good listeners
Poet writes to move hearts
Poet writes for a cause
Poet write for entertainment
Poets write to express themselves
Poets write to share their feelings
-o-
When time is running
Poem is the history
In present it reflects the story
Poem gives the hope in future
-o-
Poet is the planter
Plants seeds into your hearts
Make sure that it sprouts
Brings the thoughts into actions
-o-
Poet is the director behind your actions
Poet is the motivator behind your feelings
Poet is the coach who puts you on track
Poet is person whom your heart likes
-o-
Poet is the soldier when he uses poem as bullet
Poet is the coach when his poem moves your heart
Poet is the love, when he gives poem as flower
Poet is the parent, when he consoles you in your troubles
Poet is the healer who heals souls
Poet enters different roles
To justify the poem and to justify the people
-o-
Poem is the form of literature
We can find in holy books
Poem is the feelings
Poem touches the hearts
-o-
Sun can be seen in day
Moon can be seen in night
But poem is there day and night
Poem is powerful than nature
Poem don’t have life and death
Just it flows from heart to heart
Poet is the instrument
In the hands of the poem
-o-
If you drink a cup of alcohol
It may stay there just for hours
If you read a good poem
Nobody knows how long it gives the kick
-o-
When you have time, read a good poem
When you have time, write some poetry
When you have time, share a poem
-o-
You will be the poet, when you read a poem
You will be the poet, when you put on paper
You can be the poet to change your self
You can be the poet to change the world
You must be a poet, to enjoy this life
Waiting for you, to listen to your poem
-o-
poem by Bhavani Polimetla
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Was A Poem About Poetry
THERE WAS A POEM ABOUT POETRY
There was a poem about poetry
Written by a poet whose name was hidden within the lines-
The poem about poetry
Became a song in the night
And a distant metaphor
For the incomprehensible journey that is life-
It became anything it could be made to be-
Love,
A world of a kind,
A mystery,
The holy sounds of light far far away -
All the poems we know are like this,
In the darkness they say one thing
But in the light in the light
Oh how dark and deep and far and lonely they are-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Poetry Undefined
Poetry is a great many things
to each poet you see,
Poetry even has various meanings
as to what it is to me
Overall,
Poetry is the means
By which my heart communicates,
My mind finds the words
For these feelings and translates
Sometimes,
Poetry is my lover
My fantasies he fulfills
Beckoning me to crisp, white sheets
where my blacks and blues I spill
Or,
Poetry comes as a mysterious moon
appearing softly in the night,
age old secrets of the universe
he reveals to me with his light
See,
Poetry is my spirit
the connection to the Divine,
It lets me see what I am to be,
let’s me soar when I feel confined
So,
Don’t try too hard to define
What poetry really is
Just know that what you get from a poem
Is all a poet had to give
11.25.02
poem by Tamika Stubblefield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Is The Poem I Have Waited For All My Life?
WHERE IS THE POEM I HAVE WAITED FOR ALL MY LIFE?
Where is the poem I have waited for all my life?
The one poem that would say to me,
“You are a true poet, at last”
Where is the poem
Which would make me be Poetry?
Where?
The years have gone
Have I labored in vain?
The darkness comes
Light will not come again.
I try and I write still
But I will never know
Poetry will live,
But I soon will go.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Does Poetry Mean To Me
What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from a poem
Good poetry is a rhapsody
That makes my spirit roam
What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from an ode
Good poetry is the world to me
It is the mother lode
What does poetry mean to me
What do I get from a verse
Good poetry makes my soul soar free
And lifts the darkest curse
What does poetry mean to me
A sorry sonofabitch
Good poetry grabs me by the balls
And makes my life seem rich
What does poetry mean to me
An ageing U3Aer
Good poetry takes me back to youth
To when I was a player
What does poetry mean to me
A frustrated would-be bard
Good poetry trips not off my pen
It’s far too blooming hard
I'd Love To Write A Love Poem For You
I'd love to write a poem for you
Want to make it good
I want it to be romantic
As you might think it should
You're a vision in my head
And I can't believe you're real
You attend the U of Sexuality
And got straight A's in sex appeal
You're as metaphorical as a simile.
And poetic like a rhyme.
I'd like to write a poem for you
Got some better ways to spend my time.
Like to hug you or to kiss you
or to give you a ride
To take you out to dinner
or to please you from inside.
Id like to write a poem for you
but I'd rather not instead
I love to drive you all around
While you are giving head.
I love to please you with my fingers
I love to make you scream
I love to write you poetry
Love to see you when I dream.
I'd like to write a poem for you
a love poem, there's no doubt
I like when there is no one home
And you're free to moan and shout
I like it when you call me names
And even when you're sad
Its me you trust to make you smile
And that just makes me glad
I think you're great I think you're hot
I think you think the same
I think its not a lie to say
We'd win, if love's a game.
I'd love to be near you all the time
but that simply ain't the case,
Can't believe it's been 3 weeks
Since I saw that pretty face
I'd love to have you by my side
As I lay on this bed
I shall have to settle for,
Your image in my head
I can't wait to hold you or
to kiss you with my mouth
My life is tops when with you
And without you headed south.
I'd love to write you a love poem
but I'm afraid it seems like jokes
I know you don't like cholesterol
So for your eggs I'll cut out the yokes
When you and I embrace again
I'll hold you oh so tight,
I'll kiss your every skin cell
I'm gonna love you right
I love it when you use your mouth
Especially when I'm baked
I love to look at your body
Especially when its nake'd
I want you so so badly
I miss you so so much
I want you as my lifeline
I need you as my crutch
I'd love to write you a poem
but I'm scared I'd never stop
So I'll just keep on writing
Until my eyelids drop
And then when I arise
I'll probably write some more
And I'll just keep on writing
Until your at my door.
I'm not sure you'll get to this line,
As this poem is f***in' long
So you don't have to read it,
but I'm picturing you in a thong
It looks so very sexy
As on you all things do,
I really want you here with me
I really love you, too.
poem by Les Wordsmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Poem
THIS POEM
This poem
This first poem
This last poem
This poem that invented Poetry
This one and only one poem
This fictional poem
This ideal poem
This perfect poem
This would – be holy poem
This unreal poem
This poem which is not a poem
This poem which is the essence of all poetry
This poem
And that poem
And my poem
And your poem
And all poems
Poem poem poem poem poem
This poem
Mine and yours
This one small poem of so so many
And not such a good poem at all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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267
This poem shall remember
The port of Dumaguete
The gentle waves of the boulevard
Where we once walked
Under the moon and stars
Where the wind was fresh and cool
Where time was once eternal
To your children and husband
And to my wife
And even to our friends
This poem is nothing
After all we never made it
But to me
This poem is more than significant
This is a love poem
To be recited again
In Dumaguete
The moon and stars
shining at night
And the waves of the sea
Bouncing on the boulevard
Still so excited
Like how I feel today as I write
This poem
I am not sure
Somehow somewhere
sometime
If it is still
With you
********************
and if by chance
you read this
do not blame
me or anybody
or yourself
do not even
blame the stars
they are just
taking their
own course
****************
this is nothing but just
another poem for you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This poem is just a poem
This poem shall remember
The port of Dumaguete
The gentle waves of the boulevard
Where we once walked
Under the moon and stars
Where the wind was fresh and cool
Where time was once eternal
To your children and husband
And to my wife
And even to our friends
This poem is nothing
After all we never made it
But to me
This poem is more than significant
This is a love poem
To be recited again
In Dumaguete
The moon and stars
shining at night
And the waves of the sea
Bouncing on the boulevard
Still so excited
Like how I feel today as I write
This poem
I am not sure
Somehow somewhere
sometime
If it is still
With you
********************
and if by chance
you read this
do not blame
me or anybody
or yourself
do not even
blame the stars
they are just
taking their
own course
****************
this is nothing but just
another poem, candice.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem The Poem And The Poem Again
THE POEM‘ THE POEM AND THE POEM AGAIN’
‘The poem the poem and the poem again’
Isn’t there any life without poetry?
Why is it always ‘The poem the poem the poem’?
Let it be some other dream
Or some other small facet of our endless realities
Why always ‘The poem the poem the poem? ’
The poet who lives and dies for the poem
Is only one kind of poet
And perhaps not even a good one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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For a Lost Poem
Dedicated to the poem 'Moon Light' that was written a few years back.
For a Lost Poem
A poem written long ago –
disappeared on the face of the earth
as if it never existed – but somewhere
beyond this skyline it did;
where the moon sits, and shines its light –
this poem has been erased from history,
from where it was put into storage.
Oh poem, I feel a loss for you!
Where have you gone? Oh where have you gone?
Moon Light, once many people read,
and praised me for such delicacy,
now she is gone too.
As if death has to come with:
the darkening sky, oh ye poem –
ye selfless poem come back and
let the light shine upon you.
A poem has gone, but where?
poem by Celine Berghmans
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Google = A Good Poem = 147, Ooo, Ooo
A good poem paints a picture
For both your heart and brain.
It doesn't need a second chance
To make its meaning plain.
A good poem is like the flower
The lily or the rose.
God plants it in a poet's brain
And there its beauty grows.
A good poem like a cardinal
Is pregnant with song
You can't help but hear its message
As it sings what's right or wrong.
A good poem helps us remember
What the joys of life are for
It makes us want to love someone
Till death comes knocking at our door.
POETRY
God has always had his poets
Who He watches with love from space.
But Satan has his poets too
Who try to lead us from our grace.
King Solomon was a poet
Who spoke of love, life, death and war.
That lips were like threads of scarlet
And that breasts were roses and more.
The wild birds sing and flowers bloom
As clouds form figures in the sky.
But only humans will write poems
That shall last long after they die.
The eldest sister of all arts
Which some have called the Devils wine.
Poetry is but pure passion
To stimulate the heart and mind.
BY GOD'S POET = tom zart!
111
The useless poem
He knows that his poetry
Is a useless endeavor
As you put it,
There is no money for a poet,
Not even fame when he is alive
Or even dead, perhaps for some,
Whose lines are judged for greatness
His poetry is nothing but a way of laundering
His emotions,
Not even read
Nobody really cared
How many nights did he spend to make a poem?
His heart bleeds
For more pain, his stomach acidifies for more
Harmful corrosive liquids rising to his brain
Through all his intestines and veins
And he goes groggy
Nauseous,
Till dawn breaks he makes his lines
Like a fool
He wants to stop and put an end to everything
He is suffering
He knows the end
Cannot refer to this poem
But to his life
He ends it
His poetry may live on some pages
But (again) not even read because nobody
Nobody really cared
Perhaps someday when another useless poet
Comes accidentally along
Surfing
Or
Writes the same useless
Lines like the way he wrote his
By a slim chance
He shall then
Be read for once
Through this poem
Again
And again
Because in fact
There are many of them
More than you will expect
Rereading the useless poems
Still bleeding asking for care and even forgiveness
(The vice of asking for attention
The uselessness of recognition)
Another one reads it this time
It is, I will not mind, You
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Multitasking, The Music And The Poem And Nothing
as i write this poem i am downloading music
copying them from the cd to
Windows Media Player for all these Bossa Nova Experience
Call me, A certain Sadness, The Trouble with Hello
The Shadow of Your Smile, Fly Me To the Moon,
NighT aND dAY, hEY lOOK aT tHE sun, HeRE'S a RAiny Day,
Put a LIttle Love Away,
Where is Love?
it takes time to choose the music to load and to check
if everything is proper and so
i also take a glance at poems
the First Fifty Famous Poems of this World
read some again
reviewing how does each word feel and fall and rebound in my
heart
i write some, well, i am not that really serious about what to write
i just write what comes to my head and when i think i ended
the making of this poem
i read what others write, not really admiring their wisdom
or style or what they write there as some trash
garbage, but just the same to while my hours away doing other things
i still read them, building this interest to know what this person who claims to
be a poet is driving at
some nails for hard wood, sounding like carpentry
well, i don't really believe that poetry can change this world
my world
of multitasking, hopping from one task to another, like
island hopping with my friends in this archepielago
from one white sand to another and taking some beers and
juices
these juices of the mind and of the body, lustily flowing from my thighs
as i wipe them and learn to live a pure life
from the perspective of the Holy Pope, oh well, i don't judge other people
and i simply forgive them
like myself, i am not so hard about myself, not even on poetry
since this is just fun
clean fun, writing
opps, another cd to copy now,
i will have
Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, Paper Mache, Make it Easy on Yourself,
vINCENT, . Breaking Up is Hard with You, All the THINGS you ARe,
LIGHT My FIRE, Love is STRONGER far than WE
and CHopin and bEETHOVEN, AND iL dIVO
AND
AND OF course,
I honestly lOVE you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Not Read! ! !
Don't read this poem!
Turn back while you have the chance
Or you will regret it
This poem is a poem of darkness
This poem is a devourer of souls
It will destroy you
Consume you
Absorb you into its black depths
I tried to warn you
I told you not to read it
Why are you still reading?
If I had named it 'READ THIS POEM! ! ! '
Would you have even bothered?
This poem is pulling you in
It has your feet
It's eating you
It's shattering your soul
It's never going to let you go
It's murdering you
This poem is a murderer
It is a criminal, it is evil
It is unnameable, unbreakable, imperfect
This poem has you
It's too late for you now
There's no escape for you now
Too bad
This poem has you
This poem's devoured you
Yummm, good
This poem is satisfied now
You should have listened to me
But you didn't
And now the poem's taken you
You're dead.
Being A Poet
I find that I can compose a poem best,
When I am out walking, or am at rest.
When I am lying in my bed at night,
I think about what I am able to write.
Or when I’m out walking, or sat on a train,
Words and ideas, all rush round my brain.
Sometimes, ideas just appear in my head,
Or may be a result of something I’ve read.
At fellow passengers, on a train, I take a look;
Some chatter away, while others read a book.
But, me, I’m sat there, quietly composing verse;
With dozens of ideas, my creative mind bursts.
If I compose lines on my way into town,
I repeat them over, until I write them down;
If they are not written down straightaway,
Around my mind, other thoughts then play.
There are many things which inspire me to write,
Such as animals, the seasons, and the sky at night.
If I try to force ideas, they just do not flow;
The poem itself, I find, just will not grow.
I like to write on a layperson’s level;
In too much information, I do not revel.
Having chosen a decent subject or idea,
I then need to get my brain in to gear.
Of a subject, I like to consider all of the aspects,
But I keep my writing simple; not too complex.
To make a poem rhyme, words I may change,
But I only use words that are within my range.
In using unfamiliar words, I can see no point;
A nice poem, tricky words, can really disjoint.
Words, within my head, I keep batting around,
Until the perfect combination, is finally found.
With poetry, I really love the creative process,
But over time, I’ve become slightly obsessed.
Sometimes I find myself talking in rhyme;
That I am a poet, this must be a sure sign.
Of my finished poems, I often feel proud;
One day, I’ll be brave and read them aloud.
Into my swirling head, ideas continue to pop;
I love writing poetry and never want to stop!
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of course a poem is a two-way street. No poem is any good if it doesn't suggest to the reader things from his own mind and recollection that he will read into it, and will add to what the poet has suggested. But I do think poetry readings are very important.
quote by James Laughlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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