Oblation
Poetry? ! What do I know? ?
Someone unknown stirs the mind
Kneads the thoughts; knits fine rows
Of words and runs my numb hand
He is my invisible tow
Of feel and emotive discord
A good friend and a bad foe
Playing with my passion-world
As if keeping up my vows
Of countless past births’ damp load
To His edicts I kowtow
Offering Him, His own words
poem by Sathya Narayana
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Poem about Poetry - His Poetry Collection
i found a poetry book on one of the tables in my office
i opened to read it from one poem to another
i discovered that the man never knew poetry
and wondered why he had to publish it
the words did not dance in my mind,
they all stood glued to the page
my heart did not go ga ga and my eyes
did not wish to jump from one line to the other
there were at least 10,000 words which lied
like rows and rows of quiet, never visited graves
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A poetic thoughts
“Hi, how do the poetic thoughts emerge in mind”?
I was unable to react and reply to the question of its kind
I had to struggle hard for the answer to find
I just kept cool and struggled in mind
I pleaded her for putting good thoughts across
You must have enough of trust in cross
It is not brilliance of an individual
You get it with blessings very casual
it got to be translated into words immediately
It may have no use if done very lately
Its real impact and feelings may go away
You may not have any means to recollect or find the way
It can be great moment of joy for self and family
It has not been forced on you heavily
The family and friends definitely strengthen the line
You exceedingly perform well and feel very fine
There is no dearth of good thoughts all over
It has good backing and natural cover
To translate and add color to it is not that difficult
Such quality is inherent and inbuilt
You can nicely compose if you determine one day
You may certainly find the resolve and clear way
There is every possibility of surging ahead
You may one day excel and definitely lead
You should have natural instinct to pick up leads
Try to put in fine composition with interwoven words
It may result in fine creation of poetry
you may have then full satisfaction with remarkable entry
You can try to translate feelings into action
It must have fine combination with good reaction
It may give then good sense of satisfaction
This is poetry skill and very good indication
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Infuse Life To Fly
The poet can take particle to the sky
And may infuse life in death to fly
Vicious verse will declare him a sly.
As long as there is glow in the sun
Poetry will keep the lives full of fun
Lovers of poetry exclaim “Well done! ”
Mind your words are lovely dark and deep
Welfare of the human beings do keep
Lofty thoughts of no use if sigh and weep
Mind over words as mirror of your thought
Vision, mission or poison have wrought
Let your readers never feel thoughts were bought
Vice or virtue boldly mark your verse
Metaphor or similes utter in terse
Grand style with cynicism is source of curse
Let not take the help of sacred poetry
To prove right injustice and bigotry
It is poet’s poetry to show gallantry
Who is in the world to protect poetry?
As we define it – is the voice of God
Time fears absence of essence calls it fraud.
Farce words, lewd thoughts seem shocking banality
Ribald passion eclipses its vitality
Need tempest to uproot urge of new gen with agility
Display your thoughts of a fragrant vase
That soothes the mind glare smile on the face
Such sorts of verve harbinger of grace.
poem by Shujaat Hussain
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Poetry In The Closets
Poetry in the closets,
words are all stuffed away,
Open the closet door once more
so the words can say
'Listen friend and catch the thoughts
and make them come to bear.
Don't leave them where they can't be heard
for poetry takes you where
you fall in love with words again
like no prose itself can do.'
It opens your mind to brand new ideas
and then when you're through
you'll say
'Poetry in the closets
come out where you belong.
Take your proper place once more
beside each touching song.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Self's Solitray Cell - Not Life Sentencing
Foolish of me Dear Sister
from my life I feel
I nearly let your presence pass
Though one day we must let go
from all we embrace in this life
forever loving while remaining unattached
Dear brother I feel I let you down
those times I often ran my mouth
allowing ego to dictate half of
what I say and write
Please believe this phase I've passed
my words still playing catch up
with my life's current act
For creative emotive spark
so often I've dipped into
the dark dissonant ink well of my past.
The need to mature beyond mere words
and self perception manipulation
In order for the umbilical chord of
true growth to take hold
feed manna nourishment to the soul
of the ego must let go
Must not allow mind to falter under
all the hard bound volumes of faulty imaginings
never lose the sense of one toiling
distinction's day to day material assembly line
nasty habits will die with effort applied
sentences habitually begun with I
I me my mine
cancerous self generated
mutative pronouns
eating away at the healthy body of mind
I have visions of daily births
sin's syringe puncturing pure skin
toxic individual
identification inoculation
keeping the cosmos regenerative
life force chained to the earth
luckily the tangible escape route has been laid out before us
knowing the solitary cell of self not to be life sentencing
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Only In My Mind
thoughts fire
mind blaze
run on wind
words sing mind melodies
words sing song new images
dance in heart veins flow
words shape shift
into new thoughts
concepts poems
several are written
in time heart beats
wonder stirs anew
but only in my mind
where the beauty sings
sung sight meditation
no words given unto paper
no words processed on light screen
no words kept mind record
dart of honeybird flight
bats fly sonar night vision
wing beats of wonder
words released born free
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Never You
Over my decades of sojourn on earth
There is but a lesson I've come to
learn;
Is that you never, never, never quarrel
with a poet
For he takes you up, puts you in a pot
Season you, and finally, he eats you up
with his words.
His tongue is cursed and poisoned
Like a warring deadly disease.
DO YOU.. DO YOU.. DO YOU really think
That poets are as friendly like you think,
Well, listen now friend, let me tell
You a little secret about poetry.
Like philosophy, it could be quite
contradictory.
My mentor Mr. Taban Lo Liyong
Would say: poetry is not a song
That a lover sings to a love of his
He only wishes for a bite or a kiss
But yet, let us sit and ponder on it
Taban was right about poetry;
It is a science, with rules like we
have in mathematics.
Thoughts arranged in lines are
called poetry,
Nobody writes poetry,
You only utter your thoughts
With much love for the world.
So we can now say poetry and
thoughts are one.
Never let a poet eat you up
With his thoughts or his words
For in his heart lies an abyss
And a void, like we have in Tartarus.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Passion
A passion found, is a passion to keep
A passion felt, is a passion to be kept
Poetry from the heart, poetry from the soul,
Poetry I have always felt,
There are many passions in
this world but none like this one, which you can
always return too when you feel lost or
feel you have something to say
I love thee yet, I love thee more
but with words I can express thee hence more
Sometimes life feels too complex to find the one with the same passion as you share,
Someone that understands you for you, not only the external you, but the inner you,
Someone that understands your thoughts and passions in life; pleasure is one thing but
Once that desire for pleasure with that person has been diminished,
what is there, nothing, a desire gone and lost,
yet to say I yearn, and can't wait till I find the one that shares the same passion and desires as I do
poem by Coker George
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The Simplicity Of Thoughts
thoughts are simple
i see them without color
we dress thoughts with words
so the other person we love can see
we add a little touch of the hand
so the other can feel that she is not lonely
that i am can also feel
that i am not alone
but whether we are here or not
lonely or otherwise
thoughts still roam this world
looking for a medium
the tree, the cloud, the moss and the rock
it is my theory have thoughts
the rock is numb the cloud is lifeless
the tree is deeply rooted to the earth
the moss too green sticking to a rock
remembering the rivers that were with it
for centuries, they get tired
and they do not believe in words anymore
too many lies
and verbosity
we are the only ones who still have faith
and too foolish.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poetry To Me
What is poetry to me- it is words of beauty-words of life
Words of love, pain and sacrifice.
Words of showing and growing and needing and feeding
Words of hope and despairs, wanting and cares.
Poetry takes you into the minds of mankind
From days of old to the present time.
Poetry takes you on trips that you've never been before
And opens up every door.
Poetry becomes a longing, a want, a desire, a need
On which your mind must feed.
It becomes a life within itself
And takes you to the heavens and down to hell.
Poetry becomes a flaming desire
And only writing can put out this fire.
I call it my passion while others say it's my obsession
Yet! No matter what they may think or say
Poetry is here to stay.
So many different types of poetry
For the different minds 'you see'.
You will always find one that will give you meaning
From a loving heart to one that's bleeding.
Jump on the bandwagon and take a hold
For with poetry ' life unfolds'.
poem by Louis Rams
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Words
Words are my weapon
words are my shield
Guns and knifes just ruin lives
so words I keep concealed
Words are all I have here
they help me struggle on
Words are here forever,
when all I have is gone
In my thoughts or in my poems
Words will help ease my brain
I write down what is on my mind
Expressing love or feeling pain
Not that many I can trust
But words I can depend
Words wont turn there back on you
Words are my only friend
poem by Nic Hillen
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When Poetry...
when poetry stings
there's someone who smiles
from the cadences of infused passion
to the rhythm of a gyrating emotion
when poetry rings
there's someone who sings
from the rhyme that often burst forth
to the brilliant lights that soulful thought
when poetry peals
there's someone who flutes
the words that hangs on a harp
there's someone playing the music
of the soul...
if poetry be your passion play on
please don't stop
if poetry be your fire
please burn on in desire
if poetry be your height
please rise on go on higher...
poem by Beibee Beibee
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The Invisible Man
Im the invisible man,
Im the invisible man,
Incredible how you can,
See right through me,
When you hear a sound,
That you just cant place
Feel somethin move
That you just cant trace,
When something sits
On the end of your bed
Dont turn around
When you hear me tread.
Im the invisible man,
Im the invisible man
Incredible how you can
See right through me
Im the invisible man
Im the invisible man
Its criminal how I can
See right through you.
Now Im in your room
And Im in your bed
And Im in your life
And Im in your head
Like the cia
Or the fbi
Youll never get close
Never take me alive
Im the invisible man
Im the invisible man
Incredible how you can
See right through me
Im the invisible man
Im the invisible man
Its criminal how I can
See right through you,
Hah, hah, hah, hello,
Hah, hah, hah, hello,
Hah, hah, hah, hello-hello-hello-hello,
Never had a real good friend - not a boy or a girl
No-one knows what Ive been through - let my flag unfurl
So make my mark from the edge of the world,
From the edge of the world,
From the edge of the world,
Now Im on your track
And Im in your mind,
And Im on your back
But dont look behind
Im your meanest thought
Im your darkest fear
Put Ill never get caught
You cant shake me, shake me dear,
Im the invisible man,
Im the invisible man
Incredible how you can
See right through me
Im the invisible man
Im the invisible man
Its criminal how I can
See right through you
Look at me, look at me
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words
we open the doors to worlds unknown
when we sit and read.
words help us to travel
this earth far and wide
even makes us soar high into the sky.
words can tell us of the past
the present, and even the future.
if we only look
inside a book.
words to make a contract
words to make a vow
all these words
we can use right now.
words tell your feelings, your thoughts, desires, passions
likes, dislikes, fears, joys
but most of all, love can express the love you have within.
for a mother, father, sister, brother
for a man or a woman.
your chest becomes overwhelmed
with the feeling that you have inside.
a love that you can not hide.
a love so strong that it consumes your soul
a beautiful wonder to behold.
for it rises higher than the highest mountain
and deeper than the deepest sea.
when you say those special words
'you belong to me'.
words sharpen the mind to all that is done
like the rising of the sun.
if we could not see or hear words,
it would be like living in darkness.
and never learning to appreciate
what we was given.
so these words i write today
expresses what i want to say.
without words we could not live
and that my friend
would be a down right sin.
poem by Louis Rams
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Poetry and Poet
Poetry is poet's inner world,
Churnings of Self in distinct words;
Poetry is not black and white,
Grey, nuances of diverse hues
In kaleidoscopic word-networks
That capture all formless clouds
In the deep sky of the poet's world.
Poetry is poet's outer world,
His expressions in proper norms;
Bare thoughts, his rogue fights within
Dressed well for the popular nod;
Poet's world, a messy snake-pit,
A burrow of rats, snakes, insects,
Fighting to spring in riotous words,
Filter'd for world in elegant words.
Poetry is never a judgement,
Sheer whispers from heart to heart
Beyond what words do transport;
Words in lilt and dance, poetry,
Links they bond, cadence they ring,
Makes a poetry, a true poetry,
A mirror of poet's inner turmoils,
His hopes and strengths in right words,
Indecisions he suffer, his deeper Self.
Poetry is release from inner cauldron,
Steams from within in guise of words,
Quiet flames of the inner hearth
That flared for long finding a vent;
Poetry, a relief, a joy of sharing,
Sharing the Self with the world outside,
Back to the source from where all came;
Poet is the priest, poetry, his hymns,
Offered to the world for peace and grace.
Poetry sprouts from the morass of soul
And grows out of poet like pipal tree
And outstays him;
Fleeting is poet, but not his poems,
Poetry is the poet universalised;
It sucks his thoughts, sucks his force,
Spreads outwards to enrich the world
And leaves the poet richer and strong
Like fire and good deeds always are,
How much you share, so richer you are.
poem by Praveen Kumar
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An upright soul
Thoughts must conform to words
And words to deeds to give peace.
Good thoughts and bad words: one is
raw.
Bad thoughts and good words: one is a cheat.
Good words and bad deeds: one is
cruel.
Bad words and good deeds: one is a
barker.
Thoughts, words and deeds must not
be
In conflicts to ensure an upright soul.
25.11.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Poetry in Me.........
Oh poetry my friend inside, dormant thoughts lie,
Anger writes the feelings in the speed of thought,
I swing the axe to split the block of inspiration
Mind Pictures in my words sleeping under dreams.
Happiness and sadness hold hands in the whirlpool of words
Metaphor movies flicker in my brain,
Venting feelings to flow from my pen,
Celestial images punctuated live as
Syllables jostle for rhythm’s flow.
Oh poetry my friend inside, dormant thoughts lie,
I find comfort deep within as we write together
With your silent guide my friend,
In the cutting room snakes strangle the ‘odd’ word
Oh poetry my friend inside, dormant thoughts lie,
I find comfort deep within as we write together
With your silent guide my friend,
In the cutting room snakes strangle the ‘odd’ word
Then wonders mark unfolds, originality leaps forth.
My eyes close feeling tired the hour is late
On this session I must close the gate,
Oh poetry my friend inside, dormant thoughts sleep,
A silent friend to keep.
poem by Ken e Hall
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Courage Gained
Written: 2/16/12
About: DaNaizsha Perez
As I sit here and stare longingly into your pretty eyes
I feel as if I've been living a lie
Wanting what I can't have is tendency number one
It's why I'm writing poetry for you after vowing I was done
On Valentine's Day I wanted to nurture and hold you in my arms
For when you're around me the world can do no harm
But what happens when the girl you want desires someone else
Do you stay quiet keeping your true emotions to yourself
Or do you spill your guts and hope for the best
Hoping for some kind of response to cure the unrest
Unrest from a mind that's obviously obsessed with you
Unrest from a desire that's obviously not new
Whether that response comes in the form of a yes or obviously a no
I will always and forever care about you so
I can never tell you this face to face
So here in my poetry has to be the place
Where I've gained the courage to tell you words long past due
Where I've gained the courage to tell you the words: I love you
poem by Jonathan Sewell
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Fruits Of Your Words
Everything in this world has an end
Even the sugar
Even the pain
Will find an end
Soon or late,
Nothing lasts
Forever
Even the pain
So be nice to others and you will gain
Be aware of the words that comes out of your thoughts
A word can heal another may hurt
So try to be kind with your words
May you can heai some thoughts
Once they come out of your lips
Never returns so escape the falts
Your words are the mirror of your thoughts
And your works are the fruits of your soul's
So keep the kindness inside the soul
And speak the kind words
Passengers we all are in this world
Try to keep the good job up
If you can't heal
Try to not hurt
Your words explain your thoughts
Take your time before you talk
Don't forget that a word can change the world
So keep the good work up
Try to plant a flower
Everywhere you go
Soon the world becomes a colorful garden
The good we do is eternal
Even when we are gone.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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I could have done other useful things than writing a poem
Sometimes I have regrets writing poems
Love poems, poems about virtue and heroism
Poems that explain myself, that justify
This nothingness
That fill this emptiness,
What are these but signs and metaphors of
My weaknesses,
Symbols of my hopelessness
Ciphers of my uselessness
To life’s dreams, unfulfilled, stars that I have not
Reach or even touch with the words in my lips
I could have danced, and danced so well
Sweat things out shedding sighs and skins on the floors
I could have played a role, acted my way out
Exiting through the doors of author’s characters
And feel this sense of
It was her it was him it was not me
Sometimes I feel
To be a poet is to be dumb and dead
To demand nothing but this honor
This laurel this principle
That I cannot eat that I cannot sell that I cannot
Make use of,
Useless poetry, trashy, nothing but bad breathes
Of my being
Foul and nauseating to my sense of
What I dream what I want to be
To be this great, respected man of power
One that commands rather than take orders
From someone claiming superior feathers
I have long wanted to stop but here I am again
An addict to poetry destined for rehabilitation
In distant cruel word processing centers
Just like you, here I am again, not stopping
My fingers always wanting to type the words
My mind always listening
my heart always mouthing
Words, words, words, these words
This poem
This poem is born and I am its tributary
I am this poet now without a face without a name
I am but a mouth, fingers to my hand
Always not stopping, how can I tell you why?
When I myself, do not really know. I am this poem
With an unknown author, I am this poem just written
Taking shape like a candle lighting,
Flowing from your thoughts
Taking the forms of beings unknown to us
We claim we understand we claim we can live with
You are now lost asking the way
You could have done other things than reading this poem
Precisely this is what I really feel. Do you feel it now?
Yes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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