If Religion Is The Opium Of The People
for things beyond our explanations
for things beyond our repair
we resort to religion
for all the beauty amidst the ugliness
for all those that we can still justify
we resort to poetry
back to the essence of things
back to awe and wonder
back to the first birth of imagination
i, grab, the power of poetry
i will start with the finest grain of sand
and then your soft hand.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Related quotes
Taming The Shrew!
You can even move a mountain by faith, they say;
You can melt even a mountain by poetry, I say!
You can crack even a hard nut by poetry, know you!
Who cannot be moved by music in the world?
Music makes even a poisonous snake dance to its tune!
Music has the power to tame or drive away wild animals.
Poetry is musical words created by poet’s magic power;
Man being a higher being is tamed by musical poetry.
Poetry has the power to absorb, tame and inspire many!
Poetry consoles as music, art and Nature worn out souls
As poetry is the best and final resort for the hopeless here
For, it’s like God’s power that can turn hopeless into hopeful!
Poetry, the source of music and song, is the first and last
That tames the shrew and turns a dolt into a daunting don!
poem by Ramesh T A

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Things Are Getting Better
Well I worked for a week and I got no pay.
(things getting better.)
Well my babys coming back home to stay
(things getting better.)
Well shes coming back home, but I havent got a dime
(things getting better.)
But Ive got my love to keep me fine[? ].
(things getting better.)
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Well since my babys been away,
(things getting better.)
Well things got worse from day to day.
(things getting better.)
Well now my babys come back to me.
(things getting better.)
Yeah, itll get better, wait and see.
(things getting better.)
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Well I pawned my watch and I sold my car.
(things getting better.)
The money Ive got wouldnt get me far.
(things getting better.)
But I dont mind now that youve packed.
(things getting better.)
Its a fact, that
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
song performed by by Kinks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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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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Two Things
Two things that come and go—
Happiness and Sadness
Two things that will never leave us—
Fame and Stigma
Two things that will not come back—
Prestige and Life
Two things that come on their own—
Youth and Age
Two things that follow us—
Virtue and Sin
Two things that cannot be contained—
Grief and Desire
Two things that cannot be avoided—
Hunger and Thirst
Two things that bring about a downfall—
Anger and Jealously
Two things that are common to all—
Birth and Death.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan

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I Am Not A Poet 2
When I feel I am really a poet
I see my flesh is poetry
My pleasure is poetry
My pains are poetry
My feelings are poetry.
Poetry protects me
Poetry teaches me
How to fight back and win.
Poetry is my freedom
Poetry is my independence
Poetry is my flag
And an anthem
Poetry is my prophet
And a messanger.
But I am not a poet
Do not read me
Burn me into ashes
Let there be a flower
From the ashes.
poem by Devil Poet

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When I Look At The Time That I Have Wasted Years Ago
i feel like a frozen glass filled with water in the freezer
when i look back to all the years that i have wasted
doing the things where i can never put my best
because that is what father want me to be
i leave all the traces of what i love in those years
that still ask me where i am
where i live what i have been doing lately
when they heard that i am into law they all laughed
and then sighed
that is not the name that they first know me
they have a word for me
written in the poems that i once wrote
my name was lust and love all bound together
in one piece
my name was written in the cover book of the literature book
in the maiden issues
of the poetry collections of lilia and tita
i look back again and they all raise their hands back
as though to embrace me
back into their bosoms again
they are calling my name
you are poetry.please come back to us.
i know the reason why i am sad.
i have forgotten my real name.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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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

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Poetry Misses Me
Just last night I got a call
It was poetry saying please come home
I replied back that I am retired and done
It said please, please come back
I miss my king
I miss my champ
I miss my poet that flows like the ocean
I said I would come back but it would take one thing
To have this poem published and live my richest dreams
Poetry replied back
Poetry said give me 3 days and you will be the kings of kings
Now look at us now me and poetry back at it again
Can’t anything stand in our way no man, no woman, and no thing
Take my poem to the heart and realize me and poetry are one
That this is my destiny to be the king of kings
The champ of champs
poem by Terry Coates

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Sonnet: To an Absconded Child
Come back, come back, come back my little child;
The love we bear for you is always to true;
The world is bad; Thou art a Lamb so mild;
Come back, come back and start your life anew!
In anger, people may do foolish things;
The home’s the best one place on earth, you know;
Don’t o’er-react to problems life just brings;
Don’t feel ashamed or guilty anyhow.
Not one of us bears hatred towards you;
We love you much and cannot miss you long;
How can we eat or sleep or our work do?
Come back, come back come back, let’s sing a song.
Oh, without you, gone is our life’s sunshine;
Come back; don’t hesitate; things will be fine.
6-29-2001
poem by John Celes

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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
With Poetry
With poetry
I have found a purpose
With poetry
things just seem easier
With poetry
words will dance the tango
With poetry
I can put meaning to my thoughts
With poetry
I can ramble on and on
With poetry
everything is easier
poem by Cokbod Lodwogo

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The Poems As Diary
to know me
there is no other but this poetry
to know poetry however
please do not read
my diary
for this diary may fail the standards
of your poetry
but at any rate everyday poetry is a diary
what makes us fume like a mad cow
what makes us whistle like a satisfied lover
what makes us surrender in defeat and shout victory in triumphs
little things and big things
all summed up
in this new thing: diary as poetry
and poetry as diary.
we do not even have to rhyme
does life rhyme at all my friend?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Poetry Unlimited
Poetry is looking,
at a flower and,
seeing the beauty
hidden within.
Poetry is bringing
out love, deep in
your heart, telling
your love one how you feel.
Poetry is feeling
a cool breeze
as you lie in an open
field, so deep in thought.
Poetry is seeing
the beauty of soft
fluffy white clouds
as no one else does.
Poetry is hearing
sounds of nature
soaking it all in
to mind and soul.
Poetry is watching and
standing by river's edge
seeing rippling water
flowing to places unknown.
Poetry is gazing at
rolling hills stretching
as far, as the eye
can see.
Poetry is digging
deep into inter feelings
bringing it out
and exposing it.
Poetry is love
Poetry is feelings
Poetry is seeing
Poetry is what you are.
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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The Poet's return
So I'm back again, never thinking I'd pick back up this pen, thinking about were my life has taken me, and where will it go next. Im coming to the brink where my life is about to change forever, deciding which path is right, the one that I take or another one that I make. But yet I'm back, back with the same old outlets, back to the same old problems; a tale as old as time itself with the worries of a decade...so im back. I never thought I'd write another poem, but poetry is all around us, its in every breath you take, in every beat your heart makes, in the fluid from your veins from even the fantasies in your brain, POETRY is everywhere. The truth of the matter is poetry, just like a beat of rhyme, is everywhere. Most know it, many adore it, few idolize it, but we all show it. Because one way or another were all are going to use it, and when that day comes....oh such a beautiful vision that our minds well never lose it.
poem by Augustus Gatlin

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Some Things You Can't Take Back
Well she was lookin out the window
And I was starin at the door
The dog was sleepin on the sofa
This place has never been this quiet before
You cant pretend it never happened
You cant pretend its still the same
You cant say you were only jokin
You cant keep thinkin things can go on this way
CHORUS
Some things you cant take back
Though you wish you could
Some things you cant take back
Though the glass has been broke
And the milk has been spilled
And your loves on the line
Some things you cant take back
When someone says theres no tomorrow
When the writings on the wall
After all have cried and spoken
And your poor heart has taken such a fall
REPEAT CHORUS
If I could reset the clock and go back in time
Id erase the thoughts that went through my mind
You know I never would leave
And Id still have you with me
You cant pretend it never happened
You cant pretend its still the same
You cant say you were only jokin
You cant keep thinkin things can go on this way
REPEAT CHORUS
Some things you cant take back
Cause in the cold light of day the pieces all blew away
And now Im livin a lie
Some things you cant take back
song performed by by Uncle Kracker

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry is Dead
Capital D.
Go to the bookstore if you don’t
Believe me
See if you can find the poetry
Way back in the back where
Most people seldom go
If you do find it, what
Do you see?
Frost and Dickinson and
Susan Polis Schutz
Oh, yes, Poetry is Dead.
Who killed it? And why?
We need to find the corpse
Get a sample of DNA
Re-construct a new being
A Poetry people can relate to
A Poetry people want to hear
A Poetry not only striking
But with something vividly important
To say.
(Previously published in CER*BER*US, XLIII, July 2001)
poem by Laurence Overmire

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Poetry
Poetry begins with pain
(like any other kind of birth)
but though it breeds and feeds on earth,
it aims at not becoming back again
and reaches to the roots of things
in search of the eternal springs.
poem by Brian Taylor

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