The Poetry Vendor
in the market you sell your
poetry, the ones that you wrote
for a span of
forty years, and it is not selling
no one buys
you advertise, you dance,
you sing to be noticed
this vendor in you
has become too degrading
i must have written the worst ones
those bleeding words
those crying letters
and without any intention of
infecting those who
are dancing on the streets
strolling on the parks
those kissing under the trees
i keep them all in a bundle
bound with a warning: not fit for
your reading.
they better be my own
secrets lest they all offend
this happier world
where you claim
you live in....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Prose-Poetry
Once prose and poetry existed side by side
Two styles of literature, each with its bound
Jealously guarded by the literati
Lest prose masquerades as poetry.
The First World War smashed all fetters,
Soldiers wrote heart-rending poetic letters
To sweethearts, friends, fathers and mothers.
Newspapers published their anguish and horrors
The literati classed them as prose
And turned up their nose
At such a new trend of mongrelised poetry;
But the public gave it name and identity
Prose-poetry began to gain respectability.
Prose-poetry is a contradiction in terms,
An oxymoron; a paradox of many forms.
When well written, words flow as though in rhyme
Thought and syntax together dance with rhythm.
Some pen few lines haphazardly,
String words together arbitrarily,
Flit between thoughts randomly,
Structure their poems casually.
They want us to see them as thinkers
In fact, they are just wearing blinkers.
If only they could see their folly
They’d stop abusing prose-poetry.
poem by Isam Hussain
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The Young Poet
Poetry was something else
written by others
somewhere else
and came from
somewhere else
but the poetry
which he did not know
called one day
in a language he did not know
so he put down words on paper
and threw the paper away
but the words did not go away
and he did not know what poetry should do
until he wrote the words
which told him
what poetry could do
for only poetry can teach you poetry
*
Gertrude Stein stood behind me while I wrote this.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Has music gone from poetry?
Has music gone from poetry?
Words and music, still agree?
Dance and rhythm, song and laughter,
Do they echo, now, hereafter..?
Has singing gone from poetry?
Words that sing a listened tune?
Lullaby and melody,
Old rhymes that sleepy mothers croon?
Has rhythm gone from poetry?
Quick as a dance-step, slow as a glide?
Laughing now; now weeping; now shouting with glee –
Dancing round you, singing, can’t catch me…
Has magic gone from poetry?
Spells that summon fairy Fates?
Incantations solemn spoken,
Heroes, giants, to danger woken?
Have light hearts gone from poetry?
Hearts that know the tears of life,
hearts that know the grief of strife,
yet sing and dance and laugh with glee?
Who loves, who loves not poetry?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pukllay Festival Release Social Tensions
I sing song of life is theme harmony
inspired Andean festival of Pukllay
held in high Andes in month February
over a period of harmonious eight days
eight days singing and dancing
eight days to inspire social harmony
women dance dance with bundles
of maize grain fruit in your shawls
young mothers young mothers bundle
bundle in your infants bundle in life
dance with life your wide-eyed infants
infants learning who bounce wide-eyed
above maternal twirling and stamping
let women sing let men together sing sing
sing in two choirs sing sing back and forth
sing in festival time of whipping dances
sing in teasing sing hearts in love making
sing in time of release release release from
traditional restraints feel do express what
cannot be done expressed at all other times
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Has music gone from poetry?
Has music gone from poetry?
Words and music, still agree?
Dance and rhythm, song and laughter,
Do they echo, now, hereafter..?
Has singing gone from poetry?
Words that sing a listened tune?
Lullaby and melody,
Old rhymes that sleepy mothers croon?
Has rhythm gone from poetry?
Quick as a dance-step, slow as a glide?
Laughing now; now weeping; now shouting with glee –
Dancing round you, singing, can’t catch me…
Has magic gone from poetry?
Spells that summon fairy Fates?
Incantations solemn spoken,
Heroes, giants, to danger woken?
Have light hearts gone from poetry?
Hearts that know the tears of life,
hearts that know the grief of strife,
yet sing and dance and laugh with glee?
Who loves, who loves not poetry?
*
(revisited)
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After All Hymn
After all I am human
And I get mad sometimes
Sometimes it is hard for me to think of something else in
Order to get rid of my anger
But I think I have to replace it with poetry
Poetry is my life
And I live writing poetry
Is poetry just a scribbling that doesn't make sense?
No
Poetry are feelings that are wrtten on a piece of paper or in the computer Scream
Poetry makes sense because every word I carefully select
And there are other words that might pop out of my mind
That I connect with the words in my heart
Do I use strong words in my poetry?
Yes I use strong words
Do I offend my readers with the words I pick?
That Is something that I try not to do
AAafter all
I am human and I do make mistakes
But after I make mistakes I try to move to the next step so I never get Stuck with my mistake
Yes poetry is my voice that is a message that I am trying hard to give to My readers
There are so many different styles of poetry
Haiku, rhiming, and free style
But I always stick with the free style of poetry
I find that it is the style that sooths me just fine
After all
I try very hard to live a modest life that is very plain and simple
From the one I lived 16 years ago
What is wrong to live a life of luxury to me?
First I need to have the money to live a luxurious life
The second part is that I don't want anything to do with a luxurious life
Because I am happy living my simple life
And I hope to live that simple life forever
I want to have dreams only and I don't wish them to turn into reality in My Life
Because I know that my dreams will be dreams
No I can't sell my dreams
Because my dreams are only fantasies that I face every night when I sleep In my bed
And after all I will always be human
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dancing In The Streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Dancing in the streets
With any one you got to meet
Moving to the rhythm
Let your body feel the beat
Dancing in the streets
Let your feelings hanging out
Give it all youve got
Keep on dancing, sing and shout!
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Dancing in the streets
With any one you got to meet
Moving to the rhythm
Let your body feel the beat
Dancing in the streets
Let your feelings hanging out
Give it all youve got
Keep on dancing, sing and shout!
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on...
song performed by by Boney M.
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Music of Poetry!
Grief stricken violin music,
Boasting trumpet music,
Dance inducing guitar music,
Thrilling beats of drum music,
All these and more as words
Making rhythm of poetry
Make all dance to sing songs
Depicting message of poetry
To be amused and enlightened!
Let us all sing and dance as to
The music of heart inspired
By the poetic words forever!
Music, song, dance and poetry
Amuse all with information fine!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Everybodys Selling Something
More 4/4s in the neighborhood
Banging on the same guitar
Dreaming of living in hollywood
Puffing on a big cigar
Prima ballerina in a magazine
Call her on the telephone
Tell her that youre sending up a limousine
She say: I dont know...
I know where to go!
Now 4/4s in a different mood
Thinks hes gonna change the world
Making all the money that some others should
Guess its cause we dont deserve
Meet a lot of people in a magazine
Tell you where not to go
Tell you that Im living out a fantasy
You say: you dont know
They play me on the radio
You gotta walk before you crawl
Remember everybodys selling something
You gotta talk before you know
Remember everybodys selling something
Theres like a racket on the ball
Remember everybody wants attention
You gotta rock before you roll
Remember everybodys selling something
Sell me something
Sell me something
Sell me something
Now!
Now 4/4s into mother earth
Hurry up and wait t.v.
Funny how your lifell take a different turn
And how you get to dance for free
See a lot of freedom in your magazine?
Does it tell you what you want to know?
Tell you once and maybe twice and maybe three times
Thats all right!
Were coming out in stereo!!!
You gotta walk before you crawl
Remember everybodys selling something
You gotta talk before you know
Remember everybodys selling something
Theres like a racket on the ball
Remember everybody wants attention
You gotta rock before you roll
Remember everybodys selling something
Sell me something
Sell me something
Sell me something
Now!
Sell me something
Sell me something
Sell me something
Now!
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dance
dance the river is there to rise
dance touch me and close your eyes
dance the winds will touch your feet
just dance and dance feel the beat
dance the river will find its mouth
dance east and west north and south
dance the river will find my lips
dance the poles to move my hips
dance the bees are dancing hives
dance the trees are swaying lives
dance the waves are breaking through
dance the sides for me and you
dance the birds are dancing flights
dance the stars are dancing nights
dance the currents dancing veins
dance in soils dancing grains
dance the last atom cutting a knot
just dance and dance until you cannot
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Poems Are Not Written
The poems are not written-
Nothing is done-
Restlessness is loneliness
I have all the time in the world
And I am capable of doing little in it-
I will walk and try to wake my mind to poetry
I will hear poetry and try to wake my soul to life
I will live and try to understand why
I alone in all these many years of writing
Must begin again today
As if I never wrote at all
And never in any way achieved anything.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Poetries Travesty
Poetry is not such a pleasure
To those who live in reality
and it will forever be a leisure
To those who live in insanity
The world begrudges poetry with its whole being
For it involves a complex explanation
and from this we believe poetry is not worth reading
For it ensues exaggeration
Hearing poetry for many is torture
To poets this is an old calamity
What will come to them in the future
The great poets of this world’s society
One emotion shaped from a hand gesture
Made something in words; while dreaming
Yet even if poetry is not your pleasure
There will be a day we all will be believing
Paltry words speak of an insecure
Talent; tangible of tergiversation
and from this envoy we can ensure
That in this time there will be a transformation
poem by Joseph Michalski
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an unhappy childhood of this man who names himself 'I'.....
i've seen this picture of you
on that far corner of the world
land of snow and you are inside that very thick
winter clothes
there is that smile in your face
and i am taking a closer look
it is sour.
i know what sour is. I've been one for forty years
wearing that
sour smile, and i have many reasons why a smile must be sour
for forty years
the reasons are sour
very sour
beyond those tastes of a hundred green lemons
or a green mango with some disturbing gums on its mouth
i burned all my pictures in college
except those when i was yet a boy beside my mama and our white dog
i was in grade one and i did not like school and mama forced me into it
i was selling chocolates and i ate them all and mama was mad at me and beat me with a stick
papa did not like me reading books as he does not know how to read
i climb trees and hide on the leaves and read stories
in our dialect and draw some pictures of women without their dresses on
you see i still have this picture of myself riding a carabao and hauling some wood and coconut palms
i take a close look of my own smile, It is very sour
and it tastes like yours, but perhaps mine is the worst
but i am happy now, i know how to suppress sour smiles, i know how to manage and project myself
i smile like a cow now, and laugh like a horse
because all of them are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your Ways
What i want you to do is not what you are doing,
What i want you to write is not what you are writing,
What i want you to sing is not what you are singing,
What i want you to eat is not what you are eating,
What i want you to sell is not what you are selling,
What i want you read is not what you are reading,
What i want you to plant is not what you are planting,
What i want you to buy is not what you are buying,
What i want you kick is not what you are kicking,
What i want you to drink is not what you are drinking,
What i want you to kiss is not what you are kissing,
What i want you to build is not what you are building,
What i want you to cook is not what you are cooking,
What i want you to dress is not what you are dressing,
What i want you to bake is not what you are baking,
What i want you to dig is not what you are digging,
What i want you to fish is not what you are fishing,
What i want you to drive is not what you are driving,
And this love is becoming more complex than ever!
For your ways are not my ways.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Cant Dance
Hot sun beating down
Burning my feet just walking around.
Hot sun making me sweat
gators getting close, hasnt got me yet
I cant dance, I cant talk.
Only thing about me is the way I walk.
I cant dance, I cant sing
Im just standing here selling everything.
Blue jeans sitting on the beach,
Her dogs talking to me, but shes out of reach.
Shes got a body under that shirt,
But all she wants to do is rub my face in the dirt.
Cos, I cant dance, I cant talk.
Only thing about me is the way I walk.
I cant dance, I cant sing
Im just standing here selling.
Oh and checking everything is in place,
You never know whos looking on.
Young punk spilling beer on my shoes,
Fat guys talking to me trying to steal my blues.
Thick smoke, see her smiling through.
I never thought so much could happen just shooting pool.
But I cant dance, I cant talk.
The only thing about me is the way that I walk.
I cant dance, I cant sing
Im just standing here selling
Oh and checking everything is in place
You never know whos looking on
A perfect body with a perfect face - uh-huh.
No, I cant dance, I cant talk.
The only thing about me is the way I walk.
No, I cant dance, I cant sing
Im just standing here selling everything.
But I can walk.
No I cant dance.
No no no I cant dance
No I said I cant sing.
But I can walk.
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Letters To No One
I wrote a letter to my love
and never received a reply.
I've often wondered why that was.
Did he up and die?
Yes, he did. It's a fact.
And because I didn't know
I kept writing letters
and kept feeling low.
These letters went to no one.
So no one wrote to me.
I've often wondered if all my words
would come back home to me?
And then one day they all came back.
'Undeliverable'
is what they said.
I guess my lover moved away
or maybe he was dead.
And so I stopped my letters.
I never wrote again.
I still have all those letters,
unopened and unread.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dance, Dance
Dance, Dance
To the music
Dance, Dance
To the beat
Dance, Dance
To the rhythm
Stomp your feet
Dance, Dance
Even though
Your tune they don't hear
Dance, Dance
For yourself
Have no fear
Dance, Dance
If you're alive
You're doing well
Dance, Dance
And grin
So the world can tell
You know you've got
A life to live
You're looking at the joy
This world can give
And you're dancing and laughing,
Won't be dragged down
You'd rather keep moving
Than stay with a frown
Dance, Dance
'Til it's played to the end
Dance, Dance
With a smile
My truly brave friend
poem by Atara Gedalowitz
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Just Another One Of Those Poem Thingies...
Well as you can tell,
This is just another one of those poem thingies.
But I ask you,
'What is poetry? I mean,
Do people just write words in wierd orders.'
Well, poetry is an expression,
An opinion, well I guess it could be,
Anything,
From a very 'sensitive' piece of writing
To an essay that you wrote three years ago.
The definition that you find in a dictionary
Has nothing to do with poetry.
It is just a summary,
No an assumsion of what those fools writing the dictionaries
Think it is.
Poetry is whatever you want it to be.
So next time some person who thinks that they're too cool,
And that your so stupid because you like poetry,
Weather it's writing it or just reading it,
Tell them that they write it too,
Weather or not they consider it to be poetry,
It's their opinion and anything,
Can be poetry.
I have a love for poetry,
That can not be described.
I know,
That sounds obsesive.
But I really do love poetry.
I feel like I can say anything and,
It doesn't have to be serious,
I mean it can,
But it is not required.
Nothing is required of you when you write poetry.
It is relaxing,
A chance to step aside from life,
Even if it's just for a few minutes.
I do it for my own enjoyment an relaxation.
Why do you?
poem by Maddy Macleod
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