The Elusive Poet

I saw a poem on a wall
and it was like a sweet caress
from someone that I didn't know,
from someone that I'd never met.

If I'd have seen the poet there
I would have liked to say I cared,
but maybe, in a kind of way
that elusive poet really stayed,

for the poem made me think a bit
and try to make some sense of it.
And if that's it and if that's all
the elusive poet said it all.

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Poet vs Poem

Does a poet makes poem
Or poem makes poet?
The eternal war goes on.
The big confusion who will solve it?

Poet fight with sword of pen.
Poem armoured with shield of senses.
Poet tries to rich sky high,
Poem pulls rope of meaning and tenses.

Does poet sketc the poem
Or poem drags him through the invigible gravity.
A piece of paper becomes battlefield.
The war of ink and vocabulary,
Creates a historic beauty.

Poet cages the poem in a book.
Where the world will look.
Praises all to poet 'oh how great'
But the poem is what counts after his death.

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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.

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The Poem Is The Poet

THE POEM IS THE POET

The poem is the poet
It tells his story even when he does not intend it to-
It bears his signature even when he forges it-

The poem is the poet-
It reflects his mind his soul-
It cannot be written without what he is
Though he denies what he is to himself-

The poem is the poet
And the poet's contradictions-

It is the mask of his self - expression
And his ultimate definition in words-

When he writes he becomes himself
And when he finishes it
He leaves a part of himself in it for as long as it exists.

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This Poet Is Always Beside You

You are reading my poem but,
This poet is never known;
However, this poet is always beside you.
I am on your lips and,
I am in your mouth;
I am in your heart and,
I am in your mind;
Because, this poet is always beisde you.
This poet writes and others read,
This poet speaks and others listen,
And this poet is always beside you;
But, this poet is never known.
The works of this poet are on the internet,
And, they are being read by many! !
But, this poet is never known;
However, this poet is always beside you.

poem by Edward Kofi LouisReport problemRelated quotes
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The Right Mask

One night a poem came up to a poet
From now on, it said, you must wear a mask.
What kind of mask? asked the poet.
A rose mask, said the poem.
I've used it already, said the poet,
I've exhausted it.
Then wear the mask that's made out of
a nightingale's song, use that mask.
Oh, it's an old mask, said the poet,
it's all used up.
Nonsense, said the poem, it's the perfect mask,
still, try on the god mask,
now that mask illuminates heaven.
It's a tight mask, said the poet,
and the stars crawl about in it like ants.
Then try on the troubador's mask, or the singer's mask,
try on all the popular masks.
I have, said the poet, but they fit so easily.

The poem was getting impatient,
it stamped its feet like a child,
it screamed. Then try on your own face,
try the one mask that terrifies,
the mask only you could possibly use,
the mask only you could wear out.

The poet tore at his face til it bled,
this mask? he yelled, this mask?
Yes, said the poem, yes.

But the poet was tired of masks,
he had lived too long with them,
he snatched at the poem and stuck it in his face.
Its screams were muffled, it wept, it tried to be lyrical,
it wriggled into his eyes and mouth.

Next day his friends were afraid of him,
he looked so distorted.
Now it's the right mask, said the poem, the right mask.
It clung to him lovingly and never let go again.

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Dialogue With A Poet

Are you a poet?
Yes, I am a poet
How do you know that
I have composed a poem
You are a poet
when you compose
But right now?
I shall compose oneday again

You are a poet
the moment you compose
after that?
are you sure that
second one will also
be a poem
If second one is like first one
that is not a poem.

You must know a poem
can be a poem only once
What is a good poem
you never know.

To compose a good poem
you need a situation
or a context
that can not be repeated.

So you are not a poet
You will never be a poet.

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The Poet Became A Prisoner Of His Need For A Poem

THE POET BECAME A PRISONER OF HIS NEED FOR A POEM

The poet became a prisoner of his need for a poem
And so he lost his ability
To make and to know a true poem.
A poem became
A cliché of himself
And every line he wrote said
“You are a poor poet
Stop insulting us all
With your absence of silence.”

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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! '

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The Poem Is Greater Than The Poet

THE POEM IS GREATER THAN THE POET

The Poem is Greater than the poet
And the Poet greater than the Poem
And the Poem and Poet taken together are greater
Than either alone.
And nothing whatsoever which has nothing whatever to do with all this
Means more than all this
Doesn’t.

We are the end of a long road
In which we have gone nowhere
When the time comes
The road too will end
And the Poem and the Poet with it.

Nothing is forgiven for those who did not get there
When they had a chance.

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The Poem About The Poem

The poem about the poem
And what is a poem?
And what is a poet?
And will the poem
Save me?
Help you?

And is writing the poem
The best I can do?
Or is it only words and more words?
Is the poem about the poem
For the poet only?
Or for each one reading and speaking and hearing it?

The poem about the poem
On this sunny spring Jerusalem morning
Peace and happiness in me -
The poem about the poem
For now.

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A Poem Whose Meaning The Poet Does Not Know

A POEM WHOSE MEANING THE POET DOES NOT KNOW


A poem whose meaning the poet does not know
Is a question only its readers can answer.
But if in the silence of endless absence
There are no readers
A poem whose meaning the poet does not know
Becomes a poem which does not exist.
And a poem which does not exist
Is not the poem the poet dreamed
When he heard in the night or the early morning
That rush of music that sequence of sounds
Which seemed to say more than he would ever understand
As he wrote it down in haste
For fear it somehow would be lost.

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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.

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The Poet Who No Longer Believes In Himself

THE POET WHO NO LONGER BELIEVES IN HIMSELF

The poet who no longer believes in himself
And writes on anyway-
The poet who is too weak to stop writing-
The poet who has died as a poet,
Before he has as a person-
The poet who may never have lived as a poet-
The old old old schnook,
Still trying to write a poem
And believing he has done it once again.

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The Poem Is Not The Poet

THE POEM IS NOT THE POET

The poem is not the poet-
He cannot own or control it-
It takes on or does not take on
A life of its own-
It lives or does not live
Without him.

The poem is not the poet
It goes on as it is by itself -

Almost as alone as he is.

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A Poet Without A Poem/ Empty and Desperate

A POET WITHOUT A POEM

A poet without a poem
Empty and desperate
Forces a few lines
As way of reviving himself.

The lines lead to other lines
A poem begins to come.

The poet hears his hope as he writes
And then when there is a poem
He just rests happily
Knowing he is alive again.

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Is it a poem

Is it a poem
You are asking
And I am telling
If it is not poem
What is then.

Do you know
What poem means
The four letter
Poem stands
P- personal
o-optional
e-eternal
m-maternal .

Poem originate
From mother
And it never ends
Poem can be written
As per the will
As ordered
No grammer can
Give direction to poet
Poem is poet's personal
Property and its
Value is universal.

2

poem never dies
No water no fire
No air can destroy poem
No earth no sky
can entrap
Poem is above and beyond
Five elements of world
Poem is eternal.

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The Poet's Answer Is the Poem

The poet’s answer is the poem
Even when Poetry is irrelevant-
The poet reads the situation
As if its soul can be told in words-

The poet is a fool of course
Enslaved to what he is and what he does
He makes the poem everything
When sometimes it is nothing at all-

I am that poet I suppose
I am that fool certainly.

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Poet Is A Poet/Wherever He Goes

A POET IS A POET/ WHEREVER HE GOES

A poet is a poet
Wherever he goes
He can stop and sit on a bench anywhere
And write a poem
The poems come from without often
But what is within is the poetry-

Like a dream like a fire like a small light
That never goes out
A poet sits anywhere and writes his dream-

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A Poem's Language

a poem has it's own language
if a poet uses the glamour of the language
in his poem...the language
would stand out
if a poet shows his versatality over the language
in his poem...the poet
would stand out
the poet and the language should
lose themselves in the poem...for
the poem to speak it's own language

poem by Samanyan LakshminarayananReport problemRelated quotes
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Becoming a Poet

The first poem made me sigh
The second poem was worth a try

The third poem made me a poet
It was somehow good and I know it

The fourth poem made me renowned
Because of its excellence, I was crowned

The fifth poem was one of its kind
It left the others all behind

Then, poetry became like water
My whole life it did alter

poem by Jawad Al HarakeReport problemRelated quotes
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