Master Shakespeare
Quill in hand I see him so
A vision of him I there see
Word by word he writes on
No other can replace he
Master Shakespeare
A poet of Devine perfection
He writes and writes along
What an excellent inspiration
His words will continue on
Master Shakespeare
Magic in your very hand
No other takes your place
You I admire with my life
So full of love and grace
Master Shakespeare
poem by Suelynn Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Must
She writes as if there’s not much time.
She writes to pain, to happiness,
She writes to every remote detailed thought.
She writes to the departed,
to the extant,
to poverty,
to wealth.
She writes to mourn, and grief.
She writes to the wind, the rain,
forest, the desert, and mountains.
She writes to her pouring tears,
to her grateful moments,
She writes because really what she has is time.
She has no little ones to feed, or bathe,
nor a husband to make happy. To write is
to escape- to her. Time is not a problem, time
is just a killing system, she needs to kill in many words.
She writes as if there’s not much time.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He's A Man of His Word
He contemplates life
In general who people are
Or what things are
What is it all about?
He likes to learn
From those of us
With knowledge
Of the here and now
And of the past
He taps away
At his keyboard
As he reads
As he writes
And discovered
To his knowledge
That it helps him
To be a better man
His words are immaculate
Even words I've never heard
But when he writes his poetry
It has meaning to each word
The man is so humble
On what he writes
On what he feels
And on how he preserves others
And their words
I bow to thee Kevin Patrick
Who is a man?
Of his every word
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Master Of The Word
He writes with his feelings
Integrity in ever word
His poems make you think
About the why's in this world
As you read each one
You think
Been there done that before
But alas I can not say
Much about the wars
His eyes has seen
So much strife
Something I've yet to learn
I suppose I can say honestly
He's a true master with words
Respectfully I say to thee
Keep up the words you speak
I seam to be learning more
Of the world we paint with pens
With heart felt respect
I say to thee master of the words
His name is Eric Crockell
A true poet of the world
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet 35
You sit there often and write
With candle light bright glow
You know how to really delight
And in every word it shows
Master Shakespeare you are
How very much I admire you
You are the greatest by far
Your words I cherish how true
A genus in every single way
You captured my attention so
For words are what you play
Somehow you must truly know
Forgotten you will never be
How you Sir so inspired me
poem by Suelynn Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Even Shakespeare Didn't Learn How To Fly
I love you
But i hope you know that by now
I feel many things it's hard to sum them up
But this feeling just sorrounds me somehow
I'm trying my best to tell you
I want you to know so much
It's making me cry
Realistically all problems aside
Even Shakespeare didn't learn how to fly
Noone can put love into word
It's a magic noone can achieve
I can't explain this feeling to you
It's so tragic it's making me bleed
I live for you and care for you
More then you could ever know
But even the greatest writer can't put into words what we know
Realistically all problems aside
Even Shakespeare didn't learn how to fly
Not one word i have wrote is a lie
Even Shakespeare didn't learn how to fly
poem by Lucy Vernezze
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happy Words To Love 2011
Kee writes to you,
My dearest,
Happy new year for you to be blessed,
you writes the best
really blessed if writes from the heart....
You penned few lines on my our book
The harvest of god and prayer words on dreams
Somewhere, you keep my heart and its burns
a kiss of your words....
To see no further than ……
And now our psalm
And a smell of fiery word in this poem
your writes little is the best....
I love our greatness in its charm..
happy new year to you dearest
Sincerely wish happy to all, loves the fiery words in our poems
Kee thampi
poem by Thampi KEE
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happy New Year To You 2011
Kee writes to you,
My dearest,
Happy new year for you to be blessed,
you writes the best
really blessed if writes from the heart....
You penned few lines on my our book
The harvest of god and prayer words on dreams
Somewhere, you keep my heart and its burns
a kiss of your words....
To see no further than ……
And now our psalm
And a smell of fiery word in this poem
your writes little is the best....
I love our greatness in its charm..
happy new year to you dearest
Sincerely wish you happy new year,
you loves our poems on god
Kee thampi
poem by Thampi KEE
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Russell Baker writes columns as a poet writes light verse - with tongue in cheek and a steady hand.
quote by Thomas D'Evelyn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reflections 101
he writes not because
he wants to be read and
be understood
got him wrong really
he writes because he likes
to live
life writes upon himself
and so he writes upon life too.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Message Here For All You Poets
The love poet writes of lovely things like true love and flowers in bloom
And the roses in the poet's garden scent of a sweet perfume
And the gentle hearted applaud him saying what a marvellous poet
He surely is a child of God and one worthy of note.
The love poet writes of love of God and the God fearing say
He's a fine poet one of the best love and respect to God he pay
He hear no evil speak no evil only write of God and love
And there's a place reserved for him in God's Kingdom up above.
The social issues poet writes of the poor and few his verses read
They say he writes such morbid stuff sob stories we do not need
He keeps highlighting the downtrodden and those in poverty
He ought to put more trust in God and in Humanity.
A message here for all you poets don't write of the downtrod
But write of affairs of your heart and write of your love of God
And some will say how great you are and your praises they will sing
And they will pay respect to you and call you their Poetic Queen or King.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So What Do You Expect From The Title?
the poet writes the title
first,
he is the messy kind
that writes
whatever comes first
even though
literally each word
seems not to be significant
to the next one
practically like strangers
coming together
inside a train
whose common ground
is only to go somewhere
else
nothing like
care, or affection
they merely stand there
and wait
and then take their
respective
exits
he writes: so what do you expect from life?
changing it later:
so what do you expect
from the
title? trying to conceal the essence
of his question
and then he keeps on writing
like a lost kid
looking for its mother
who seems to be very busy
with her own
kind of obsessive
compulsive shopping
and then you arrive at the
end line which says: hey why are you stalking me?
changes it later to
something courteous: do i know you?
are you following me?
do you like me? funny, but
sometimes it is true
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lord of the Flies
Oh Master my Master
Oh where have you been
I wallowed in filth and
I drowned in sin
Oh Master my Master
It's my rotten luck
To swim in the decay
And swallow the muck
Oh Master my Master
I stand in the fires
Surrounded by murderers
Thieves, cheaters, and liars
Oh Master my Master
the earth has turned red
Fluid with blood
Of the recently dead
Oh Master my Master
What's wrong with the world
The blackness unfolds
Like a flag that's unfurled
Oh Master my Master
You ignore my cries
And now I'm quite sure
You're the Lord of the Flies
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shallow: Though we are justices and doctors and
Churchmen, Master Page, we have some salt of our
Youth in us; we are the sons of women, Master Page.
line from The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act II, Scene 3 by William Shakespeare (1602)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Luciana: A man is Master of his libertie; time is their Master, and when they see time, they'll goe or come.
line from The Comedy of Errors, Act II, Scene 1, script by William Shakespeare (1591)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Master Spoke.
Why is the world here today?
The Master Spoke.
Why are we sinners, like sheep gone astray?
The Master Spoke.
Why all this toil, no comfort of Eden,
Since man didn't obey?
The Master Spoke.
Why work the dust of the ground, from whence we came,
And eat 'By the sweat of our brow? '
The Master Spoke.
Why do we, naturally,
Posess the desire to before,
God, want to worship and adore?
The Master Spoke.
Why is Jesus glorified,
And why, for sinners, did he die?
The Master Spoke.
Why shall God return again,
To take away Isreal, His bride?
Why me, a sinner, justified?
The Master Spoke.
Why will there be Revelations, wars,
And roomers of wars,
Nearing the End Times?
The Master Spoke.
Why is God an eternal Being,
But the world shall be no more?
The Master Spoke.
Why is it, that when a man speaks,
His words blow away
As kernals of grain,
And yet, when God speaks, his Word is as rock,
Forever to remain?
The Master Spoke -
'Heaven and Earth shall pass away,
But my words shall never pass away.'
Why do these things occur,
And as it were,
The penalty of sin man did not have to pay?
The Master Spoke -
'For God so loved the world,
That he gave his only Son,
That whoever believes in him
Shall not perish,
But have the gift of eternal life.
Why?
The Master Spoke.
'Go now! Help the needy,
And the weak!
Save hearts that are broken! '
Hurry, now!
The Master has Spoken.
poem by Macy Dvirnak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Written in Black Ink
Upon
The tear-stained
Paper
She writes
Writes,
Her story
Her experiences
Her life
Written in
Black ink
Upon
The tear-stained
Paper
She writes
Writes,
Her sorrows
People she lost
People who are gone
Written in
Black ink
She writes for
Days and
Days
Until
At last
Her masterpiece
Is finished
Her eyes Begin to
Close and
Oblivion Takes hold
And when she
Awakens
Her story will be written
Written in black ink
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When his life belongs to a mysterious hand
He writes day & night
And erase sometimes.
Then writes again.
He drinks a lot and stops
When there is no funds.
Starts again when his wallet sounds.
He walked thousands of miles
But he feels still at the same place.
One day he spoke to an insect
It struggles to survive in a cobweb.
'Dear! How could I help you
When my life too belongs to a mysterious hand?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poet’s Life (Fun Poem 13)
A poet’s life is an awkward one,
he sits with pen and paper in hand,
writes down what comes into his head,
prints it up, reads it through,
only to find that someone
can’t understand
a blinkin’ word he’s written.
The most frustrating part
is that he understands it perfectly well,
so now he has to explain and tell
what the whole thing is about.
At times, a poet’s life
just wants to make you scream and shout.
So you take pen in hand again,
hoping what you write this time
they will understand.
(7 May 2007)
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Book Of Suleika - The Loving One Again
WRITES he in Neski,
Faithfully speaks he;
Writes he in Tali,
Joy to give, seeks he:
Writes he in either,
Good!--for he loves!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Savoir Faire~
He writes of love in the past tense
Of constant winter's full of snow
Of the one who got away...
And the emptiness that he has come to know;
He writes in brilliance when no one is looking
All glitter in a shining reverie
Eliciting such brilliance that 'tis blinding
Tell you, he's got the best of me;
He writes of no one caring...
With a Pavillion full of ardent friends
Adoring, worshiping and longing...
For just one autographed poem from his pen;
Never mind that he is a member of Mensa
Multi-lingual and profound in his choice of words
A gifted teacher and abstract thinker sublime
Believing that no one cares is really quite absurd! ;
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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