Collage Collective Art
among us few poets
in our collective collage
it is always fitting
among such words
aspiring to beauty
fitting for me to say
'I love the lines
the way your hearts
and minds think'
it would be beautiful
to speak of our art
together with one mind
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Good Poets and Bad Poets
Some poets get awards and think they are good poets.
Some poets never get awards and think they are bad poets.
Some poets think they are good poets only in their own mind
Some poets think they are bad poets in somebody's else mind.
Some poets think they are good poets in somebody else mind.
Some poets think others think they are good poets but they don't in their hearts.
Some poets think they are good poets in their hearts but not in anyone else's mind.
All are insecure, except those who get security from the opinions of others and that, alas, doesn't last and isn't real.
Some poets have left the entire scene and live only in their mind.
Some poets take criticism and don't mind.
Some poets avoid criticism and do mind.
Some poets write poetry to get love.
Some poets love to write poetry.
Some poets are ahead of their time, in their mind
Some poets spend a lifetime feeling like failures in their mind
Some poets live only after they die.
Some poets have much to say but can't articulate
Some poets retreat, believing others don't understand
So which one of these am I?
I guess I am all of these and none of these
and no matter what my description
I intend to keep doing what I do:
Write. Right
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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My Twenty Lines
I just read this poem about using just twenty lines,
and it brought these words to my mind.
Who are they to tell us how many lines we should use to speak?
This is America where we have a law known as freedom of speech.
Just twenty lines tell you something about my life in words.
To me that seem completely absurd.
My life is much more than just twenty lines.
Hell I am thirty nine.
And if they except me to sum up thirty nine years in twenty lines
They are complete outside their minds.
How am I suppose to tell you how I nearly died when I was child?
Or how my mother harsh words took away my smile:
In just twenty lines?
Like I said they must be out of their minds.
I guest I can do if I shorten my life.
I don't have to talk about how much I love my future wife.
But her love is the inspiration for a lot of my poems.
So to not talk about her would be wrong.
I have a lot more to say but I'm out of time.
I reach my limit of my twenty lines.
Teach Them How To Fish
you may give them fish
but for how long will you be giving them fish? for how long will you fish yourself?
teach them how to fish and they will also teach others how to fish.
that is wiser that way.
teach them poetry at first. let them read the easiest one to understand. let them
see the beauty of the simplest lines from you and from the poet that you love.
teach them how to write one from the fingers of their hand. love their work and tell them how beautiful are they. there is always beauty in every personalized line. i know.i am telling you. your lines speak what is in your heart and everything
inside our hearts are always innately beautiful
let them read their lines. let them speak the meaning that they are hiding in there. that which you have never seen yourself. let them defend beauty and grace and truth in their own work. beauty and truth and goodness have to be
defended by its creator too.
listen. open your mind. listen attentively.
teacher. listen to them. they are now making their own.
love each work.
teacher listen. now they are teaching you. now you are learning some more.
they have their own wings now.
teacher, see the sky. see them. oh how beautiful are they. they are all flying
and singing. do not wish them to come back to you. let them fly away.let them see the big wide world. let them find the other universes.
they are not yours. they belong to themselves. they are now free.
that is your happiness that even the gods cannot give you.
sit back. and write another poem for another batch. some more. some time.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Unicorn 4
What is known, is known – known gently,
meekly, mildly, sweetly; that’s the experience
that men bring back who’ve seen that creature plain.
But since the unicorn grazes in all our minds and hearts,
each has his image. Poets love to write of that creature
as they picture it; but what of those who met it plain
in forest glade, upon the hills, or white amidst the waves?
It’s said that, then, some poets put away their pens forever or awhile,
despairing that their word-hoard holds no words
that can describe those things invisible which
that creature brings to the mind, when met;
some can no longer give it even a name
as if that very word can seem to falsify.
They’re asked, was it, just, beautiful? – and hesitate,
because what yesterday, was ‘beautiful’ is a different word
today; that creature shows them that a word
means what it does; today, ‘beauty’ has done more in them;
it speaks a unity which is not static – can do all things
as Helen’s beauty, so we’re told, could make a war from peace;
so beauty can make peace from war – as poets prove.
And so, those who’ve seen it plain but wish
to say no word that might be less than truth
find that its subtle magic guides their pen
so that they may write with that same ease
with which that creature lives,
write of any, and of all things.
And all who’ve seen it – who’ve seen it move
within the utter stillness of itself
as never before have they seen a creature move
and hold that in themselves, wish, wordless, to return
to be again in that creature’s still shared self-presence;
the wisest of them finally to find
that it may graze forever in the poet’s mind.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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They wrote in the old days that it is sweet and fitting to die for one's country. But in modern war, there is nothing sweet nor fitting in your dying. You will die like a dog for no good reason.
quote by Ernest Hemingway
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Deceased Poets Of Nature
Such beautiful poems to Nature they did write
The poetry we love for to read and recite
May they rest in peace now where-ever they lay
The deceased poets of Nature their poems live today
They glorified Nature and her praises they sung
And though they may be long dead their poems remain young
the poets of the land and the poets of the sea
In their beautiful poetry their greatness we do see
Their poems and their songs I loved as a boy
And their poems and their songs I will always enjoy
The beauty of Nature they did celebrate
And beauty in their words they loved to create.
Great insights of Nature from them we did gain
The beauty of their words with us does remain
We loved them for their poems in decades long gone
The deceased poets of Nature their poems living on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Dead Poets
I envy the dead poets
Those idols I aspire to
Someday become compared
How beautiful their words
Still speak in the years after
They are revered and admired
Held aloft in such acclaim
And all they know is peace
The silent rest of the grave
Where flowers are laid
They spoke of such love
And passion I felt in me
It was as though they saw me
And decided to paint my dreams
With flowing verse I slept
How maidens so fair danced
And birdsong soared upon high
Ode to the beauty
That they gave to me
They are remembered for love
Romanticism bore their pen
And while they sleep
The words are speaking aloud
Into the world and every soul
How I envy the dead poets
How I wish for me their role
To rest and my poetry read
Be known for beautiful love
And hurt no more
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Other Nights
This night fed the other rights,
Young textures of the sight.
These solid lines blink and glow,
Fitting with standards new and old.
Many serrated knives kill,
But this night one murders.
Weddings and funerals let time
Honour the way we live:
The killing of a man is death,
So soldiers die as well?
This night and day, we calm
Our minds in, feels quaking
And morbid alliances.
The night causes language
To flow from among us,
Thus the setting is absurd
For the most beautiful sight
Of unlawful killing.
poem by Naveed Akram
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This Girl
Take me as I am
Though I'm good at pretending
I tire easily
And hurry to the ending
There's more than what you see
But not the way you see it
I hope you follow me
And you get the meaning
Here is where I stand
Here is who I am
And I'm not interested in
Fitting in
I only want to be
To be this girl
I'm not interested in
Giving in I only want to be
This girl
Take me as you will
Under no illusions
I offer myself whole
I give into you and I
Offer you the sky
The sun and moon and seas
But you need to know that I
Not more or less than me
Here is where I stand
Here is who I am
And I'm not interested in
Fitting in I only want to be
To be this girl
I'm not interested in
Giving in
I only want to be
This girl
I'm not interested in
Fitting in
I only want to be
To be this girl
I'm not interested in
Giving in
I only want to be
This girl
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty Words
we all speak our minds
rarely our hearts
forgetting the truth
to know what we want
our words are out
once they've been said
but some have no meaning
especially in our heads
the heart holds emotions
we wish not to share
but once they've been said
there will be pain to bare
we speak lies
that come from the mind
but when will we feel safe
to speak from the heart
we say what we don't feel
we feel what we wish we didn't
but either way we will learn
the mind has these empty words.
poem by Katherine Bryce
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Take Pride My Co Poets
Take pride my co poets and tell what you feel and see
So that your words and life will not just be a memory.
We are speaking for all mankind
So no one has to read between the lines.
We are telling of every persons hopes, dreams
Pains, joy, laughter, isn’t that what we’re all after?
To let the world know what’s in our hearts and minds
Not just one who is standing on the sidelines.
We want the world to hear us
when we scream and holler
And to see us when we cry
to see us when we live
And love us while we die.
We are the voices which could
Not be heard.
We are the tears that forever burn.
We are the music in peoples hearts
We are the abandoned, rejected
Forlorn and forgotten.
We are the children who cry with hunger.
We are the ones who look up to our parents
Because there is no other.
We are the voices of the people
We are the churches, we are the steeples.
We are the ones who scream out their pains
Without a voice, no step do they gain.
WE ARE POETS ONE AND ALL
WE STAND TOGETHER OR WE FALL.
poem by Louis Rams
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Old Feelings
time knows how
to keep them all
without creases
in an old cabinet
there is a season
for reminiscing
and you go back
to old places and
some faces
your sighs take you
back there
your trembling hands
once again shall
open the window of
the house
you take one of those
and hold them against
your chest and close
your eyes to kiss it
you face the mirror
and try fitting it again
you're too big for it now
and if you force fitting it
the buttons will snap
the cloth will be torn
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Many
Fitting and proper,
To accept the circumstances and to move on;
But the conclusion is always occupied by your muse.
Many dates,
Many lovers,
many years,
And with much prayers!
But fitting and proper to your muse;
For a person who loves silver will not be satisfied with silver!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Greater Lines Of Others
THE GREATER LINES OF OTHERS
The greater lines of others
Shadow my own.
I hear them within myself
Making mockery of the lines
I now write down.
The great poets own poetry
And we with the little words
And the big dreams
Might be wiser
To let only our silence
Speak for us.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Poetry
To those of you who've never read poems
there is a vacancy in your homes.
For poets dream
and poets scream
words that should be said
and never left dead.
They speak of love in artful wonder
and even love that's torn asunder.
They tell the stories that affect the people.
Their hopes, their fears,
the ageing years
their laughing times,
their weeping tears.
Poetry has its own special flow.
If you've never read it you don't know
its magic with word
not silent but heard.
To evoke in the mind
something you find
with rhythm and cadences
allowing your senses
to come alive.
Alive.
Most poets are quiet except with their pen.
They become quite vociferous especially when
conveying to you what they deem to be true.
For poets are sensitive
to all they see.
They speak from the heart
and hope to be
inspirational, controversial
to awaken in you
a picture or image
for your mind to view.
Poems are music and praise for the soul
that hungers and thirsts
for you to become whole.
All of the poets who've come and gone
have left their thoughts and then moved on,
moved on to pursue loftier goals
accompanied by words to soothe their souls.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Fitting In With The Misfits
Dear ma you might find it hard to believe
But I think Ive finally found a home
The weathers loveley theres so much to see
And people who know what I know
Now Ive got friends that do want me
And take me as I am
Now Ive got friends that do love me
Im all right with them
Fitting in with the misfitts
Living in the lost and found
And I will never be afraid
For lost souls dont know where theyre bound
Dear ma I know this is hard for ya too
But some things are better off said
Ive always found it so hard to adjust
Id rather stay in bed
Now Ive got friends that do want me
And take me as I am
Now Ive got friends that do love me
Im all right with them
Fitting in with the misfitts
Living in the lost and found
And I will never be afraid
For lost souls dont know where theyre bound
Dont know where theyre bound
I dont know where Im bound
Fitting in with the misfitts
Living in the lost and found
Fitting in with the misfitts
Living in the lost and found
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poems from heaven
poems from heaven come to me in my sleep
i awake in the morning and i start to weep.
for in my dreams i see the loved ones who had past
they give me these words which will forever last
you are my child which i gave to the world at birth
i did not know at the time- if and what
your life would be worth.
but i knew in my heart that there was a purpose in your life
now i am in a better existence looking down upon you
and the lord has shown me what you have to do..
you are here to spread the word to all the other poets.
that they could reach more people than they
could ever dare to imagine.
open up your hearts and minds, and let
your loved ones souls with yours entwine.
listen to what they have to say
for with their words, this world
will be a better place.
.these are the poems from heaven of which
i talk about.
and of this i have no doubt.
to all the poets of the world, continue
to spread the words that come into your hearts and minds
for they will be here way beyond our time.
.
.
poem by Louis Rams
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Fitting Tight Are The Pieces
When I did it...
I was home alone.
And when I did it...
I didn't moan or groan.
'Cause when I did it...
I made it my own.
And when I did it...
I meant it to be shown!
When I choose a task to do...
I mean it to get done.
With no time I try to lose,
'Cause I choose it to get done.
And fitting tight are the pieces,
With a meaning that is done.
That is clear to anyone,
When I do to get things done,
I am business not 'all' fun!
When I choose a task to do...
I mean it to get done.
With no time I try to lose,
'Cause I choose it to get done.
And fitting tight are the pieces,
With a meaning that is done.
That is clear to anyone,
When I do to get things done,
I am business not 'all' fun!
When I did it...
I was home alone.
And when I did it...
I didn't moan or groan.
'Cause when I did it...
I made it my own.
And when I did it...
I meant it to be shown and known!
When I choose a task to do...
I mean it to get done.
And fitting tight are the pieces,
With a meaning that is done.
That is clear to anyone,
When I do to get things done,
I am business not 'all' fun!
And fitting tight are the pieces,
With a meaning that is done.
That is clear to anyone,
When I do to get things done,
I am business not 'all' fun!
And fitting tight are the pieces,
With a meaning that is done.
And fitting tight are the pieces,
With a meaning that is done.
And fitting tight are the pieces,
With a meaning that is done.
That is clear to anyone,
When I do to get things done,
I am business not 'all' fun!
And that's what I do to believe!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Year 2012
Green hope green road green field green dream
Green green grass of future
Dhamma is distinguishgedly seen in the world
Wonderlands of future generations
peace, harmony and wisdom
love for humanity
rebirths of democracy
cool breeze of mind
building morality of tomorrow
a beautiful mind
Beautiful minds
a beautiful mind
Beautiful minds
a beautiful mind
Beautiful minds
The world is a beautiful place to live, to meditate and to contemplate
For the purpose of keeping truths alive and fight for undaunted wisdom.