Poets and tellers
Dear Poet! You know or know not,
It is your right brain that
Is more active and alert.
It sees things as a whole, in long shot.
It sees wide and tell in terse.
It observes deeply and expresses its core.
Dear Story Teller! You se or see not, ,
It is your left brain that
Is more active and alert.
It sees things minutely in close up.
It scans at length and tells vast.
It observes closely and expands it.
Shakespeare is more a poet.
John Milton is more a storyteller.
16.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Fortune Teller
There's a fortune teller
that tells it like she sees it.
But how do I know that
what she sees is true?
Maybe it's all hokum
and then what will I do?
She tells me I will meet
the man in my life
that will sweep me off my feet
and make me his wife.
She tells me I'll have babies,
that they will make me proud.
She tells me she sees sunshine
and not a single cloud.
And so I feel better,
better than before.
But before I leave,
before I leave your door
Let me look into your eyes
to see if these are lies.
Oh fortune teller let it all be true.
My time is running out now.
It's all up to you.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The life of a Poet
The poet listens
the poet hears
he writes down
all his fears.
He observes things
that others don't
going to places
that others won't.
Inspired by simple things
like a sound or smell
the poet has lots
of stories to tell.
Even when asleep
his mind isn't at rest
in fact this is the time
it's at it's creative best.
The poet can be a restless soul
his life reflected on the page
some verse can be sweet and mild
then full of anger and rage.
The poet can be mysterious
and write in a strange way
he will say Black is White
and that night is day.
The poet is an artist
but instead of paint it's the word
painters want their work to be seen
but poets just need to be heard.
poem by Kevin Halls
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I Keep The Head High
An eye sees everything
But the other does not…
An ear hears everything
But the other does not…
What an honest combination!
A mind sees your virtues
But the same mind sees your vices…
A heart longs for you dear,
But the same heart rejects your love near…
What a dishonest mindset it is you think!
But among the blind around,
Then among many a deaf
And the heartless beasts that surround
You have to know my dear,
I ever keep my head high.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Star Time
A child sees a star
and is filled with glee
A scientist sees a star
and tries to find the key
But a poet sees a star
and his mind is set free
Goodbye Mr. Ed
The ghost of manhattoes
Shrieking as they fall
From at&t
Someone sees it all
Goodbye mr. ed
Andys skull enshrined
In a shopping mall near queens
Someone sees it all
Icarus takes his pratfall
Bruegel on his head
Goodbye mr. ed
Four and twenty black kids
Some of them are blind
Someone sees it all
Tolerance of violence
By the fellows with no heads
Goodbye mr. ed
Some things are so big
They make no sense
Histories so small
People are so dense
Someone sees it al
Goodbye mr. ed
Some things are so big
They make no sense
Histories so small
People are so dense
Someone sees it al
Goodbye mr. ed
Never mind the pistols
They laid the golem eggs
Others came to hatch them
Outside the pale
Someone sees it all
Goodbye mr. ed
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red Alert
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Oh whoa
Na na na noo noo
Information
Is time to comfort the weak
Invitation to rock with you
They will freak
Ho-ho-ho!
Red alert
This house is a-rockin'
Red alert
Tearin' the walls down
Red alert
No way to stop them
Red alert
Give me more, more, more
Red alert
I'm amazed
All the people that walk down the tower
In a haze
A masseuse will trigger the score
No, no, no
Red alert
This house is a-rockin'
Red alert
Tearin' the walls down
Red alert
No way to stop them
Red alert
Give me more, more, more
Red alert
Oh tear it down
We've been bad
Not as bad as we could have been
Not so sad
Next week we're gonna do it, do it again
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Red alert
This house is a-rockin'
Red alert
Tearin' the walls down
Red alert
No way to stop them
Red alert
Give me more, more, more
Red alert
This house is a-rockin'
Red alert
Tearin' the walls down
Red alert
No way to stop them
Give me more, more, more
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Red alert
song performed by by Quiet Riot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In That Moment: A Meditation
one comes to the water, to the ocean, and one observes…without a companion, without chatter and with bodily stillness, and with no projection of one’s one expectations and conditioning, one observes…one sees what is before one…and in that moment, in that instant, there is no one there with an identity; no one coming from the past to say: this is what I am; this is what I did – and this was done to me; and such a person did this; and in that moment, in that observing, in that seeing of the ocean, of the water, in the seeing of what is before one, there is none that asserts its identity; there is none to speak of its name and its nationality and its pride and associations and its past, and there is none to reach out for a future: there is the moment; the stillness; the silence…
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nobody sees the obvious, nobody observes the ordinary. There are more miracles in a square yard of earth than in all the fables of the Church.
quote by Robert Anton Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poet I Am', And 'The Poet I Am Not
The poet I am, and the poet I am not
‘The poet I am’ says
To ‘the poet I am not’,
‘Why can’t I be more like you? ’
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Because you are not good enough’
And ‘the poet I am’ begins to cry,
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Real poets cry for more meaningful things’
And ‘the poet I am’ says ‘I am who I am and what I will be means so much to me. But still I am not the poet I wanted to be’.
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Exactly. Were you less concerned with who you are and more concerned with others you might be a bit more of a poet than you are now.’
And ‘the poet I am’ is silent.
And ‘the poet I am not’is somewhere else being someone else
That ‘the poet I am and the poet I am not’ cannot see or dream.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Where is one active.?
To steal is static; not to steal is active.
To lie is static; not to lie is active.
To hate is static; not to hate is active.
To love the opposite sex is static.
You are active when you are forbidden.
You are alert where you are forbidden.
18.02.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The artist should not only paint what he sees before him, but also what he sees in himself. If, however, he sees nothing within him, then he should also refrain from painting what he sees before him. Otherwise his pictures will be like those folding screens behind which one expects to find only the sick or the dead.
quote by Caspar David Friedrich
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Portrait Of A Child
That brow, that smile, that cheek so fair,
Beseem my child, who weeps and plays:
A heavenly spirit guards her ways,
From whom she stole that mixture rare.
Through all her features shining mild,
The poet sees an angel there,
The father sees a child.
And by their flame so pure and bright,
We see how lately those sweet eyes
Have wandered down from Paradise,
And still are lingering in its light.
All earthly things are but a shade
Through which she looks at things above,
And sees the holy Mother-maid,
Athwart her mother's glance of love.
She seems celestial songs to hear,
And virgin souls are whispering near.
Till by her radiant smile deceived,
I say, 'Young angel, lately given,
When was thy martyrdom achieved?
And what name lost thou bear in heaven?'
poem by Victor Hugo
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Before a Poetry Reading
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I'm feeling nervous but I mustn't show it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I hope to heaven that I won't blow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I mustn't reveal that I'm a second-rate poet!
I'm only a rhymer, but they don't know it!
If you've got no talent you'll have to grow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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The Old Love
I
You love me, only me. Do I not know?
If I were gone your life would be no more
Than his who, hungering on a rocky shore,
Shipwrecked, alone, observes the ebb and flow
Of hopeless ocean widening forth below,
And is remembering all that was before.
Dear, I believe it, at your strong heart's core
I am the life; no need to tell me so.
And yet--Ah, husband, though I be more fair,
More worth your love, and though you loved her not,
(Else must you have some different, deeper name
For loving me), dimly I seem aware,
As though you conned old stories long forgot,
Those days are with you--hers--before I came.
II
The mountain traveller, joyous on his way,
Looks on the vale he left and calls it fair,
Then counts with pride how far he is from there,
And still ascends. And, when my fancies stray,
Pleased with light memories of a bygone day,
I would not have again the things that were.
I take their thought like fragrance in the air
Of flowers I gathered in my childish play.
And thou, my very soul, can it touch thee
If I remember her or I forget?
Does the sun ask if the white stars be set?
Yes, I recall, shall many times, maybe,
Recall the dear old boyish days again,
The dear old boyish passion. Love, what then?
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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Specter of Brocken
It sees by negative eyes.
All cannot come to like.
I dislike all.
It sees by affirmative eyes.
All are wonderful.
I like all.
It sees by negative eyes.
Everyone has seemed to hide the crime.
Everyone is a criminal.
It sees by affirmative eyes.
Everyone seems to be pure.
Everyone is a good human.
Eyes see the shadow.
Head writes the story.
Story that changes depending on feelings.
The truth is transparent ahead of feelings.
Eyes see the shadow.
Head writes the story.
Story was written only from my prejudice.
What We Teach Our Children By: Cay Thorne
If a child sees abuse in any form -
They will become abusers in any form;
If a child sees love;
They become lovers and romantics at heart
If a child sees loyalty and trust;
They know how to be loyal and trustworthy.
If a child sees hatred to all things and humans
They will live without love and kindness.
If a child knows encouragement and praise;
They will show encouragement and praise to all.
If a child sees peace and happiness;
They will show love and happiness to all mankind.
If a child sees violence;
They learn to be violent to anything and everything.
If a child sees bullying at home as a victim;
They become a criminal to satisfy the hunger.
If a child sees charity;
They learn to show charity to others.
If a child sees you help others in need;
They become helpers to all in need.
If a child learns how to be raciest in all forms of the word;
They WILL learn the true meaning of racism and hatred –
Which shows non of the virtues;
That we need to live with to stop;
All the kinds of EVIL in this world today.
If a child sees all the virtues that are out there in the world today;
They will show these virtues to all mankind and no matter who the person is.
poem by Cay Thorne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fairy Book
In summer, when the grass is thick, if Mother has the time,
She shows me with her pencil how a poet makes a rhyme,
And often she is sweet enough to choose a leafy nook,
Where I cuddle up so closely when she reads the Fairy-book.
In winter when the corn's asleep, and birds are not in song.
And crocuses and violets have been away too long,
Dear Mother puts her thimble by in answer to my look,
And I cuddle up so closely when she reads the Fairy-book.
And Mother tells the servants that of course they must contrive
To manage all the househod things from four till half-past five,
For we really cannot suffer interruption from the cook,
When we cuddle close together with the happy Fairy-book.
poem by Norman Rowland Gale
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Poet, O Poet
Let not the dog out
The poet cried.
Poet, poet, O poet
Imagine, imagine and imagine
Your imagination is our wealth
Your imagination is our health
Imagine, imagine and imagine
Create things on your own
In your own world my dear poet
That is not known and that is owned.
Let not the dog out
The poet cried.
Poet, poet, O poet
We have no control over anything
We have no control over the land
That is dreamy.
It is only you O poet
Who can control us from that land
Where nothing to be shame
Where no body is there to blame
Where there is only fame and fame.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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There Is No Natural Religion (b)
I
Man's percepti-
-ons are not bound
-ed by organs of
perception. he per-
-ceives more than
sense (tho' ever
so acute) can
discover
II
Reason or the ra-
-tio of all we have
already known is
not the same that
it shall be when
we know more
IV
The bounded is
loathed by its pos-
-sessor.The same
dull round even
of the univer[s]e, would
soon become a
mill with complica-
-ted wheels.
V
If the many bec-
-ome the same as
the few, when pos-
-sess'd, More! More!
is the cry of a mista-
-ken soul, less than
All cannot satisfy
Man
VI
If any could de-
-sire what he is in-
-capable of posses-
sing, despair must
be his eternal
lot
VII
The desire of
Man being Infi-
-nite the possession
is Infinite & him-
-self Infinite
Application
He who sees the In-
-finite in all things
sees God. He who
sees the Ratio only
sees himself only
Conclusion
If it were not for the
Poetic or Prophetic
character, the Philo-
-sophic& Experimen-
-tal would soon be
at the ratio of all
things, & stand still,
unable to do other
than repeat the same
dull round over a-
-gain
Therefore
God becomes as
we are, that we
may be as he
is
poem by William Blake
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Get Your Spirit Right
Practice.
Active,
Prayer...
Everyday,
You can!
Be active in the practice,
Of prayer...
Everyday.
You can!
Care less about the he said,
Or she said...
Conflicting pickers of fights.
They'll keep you awake with sleepless nights.
Be true to your practice,
In active...
Prayer,
Everyday.
You can!
Erratic tactics,
Keep captive...
With distractions,
To minimize your pride.
Don't worry about their appetites...
For doing things the wrong way.
You stay on the side of what's right,
Now!
Practice.
Active,
Prayer...
Everyday,
You can!
Be active in the practice,
With swift actions of your prayers...
Everyday.
You can!
Get your spirit right!
Let backbiters do what they do.
You can choose not to approve!
Just keep your practice,
Active...
In prayer,
Everyday.
You can!
Don't worry about their appetites...
For doing things the wrong way.
You stay on the side of what's right,
Now!
Practice.
Active,
Prayer...
Everyday,
You can!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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