Compassion In Poetry
Poetry of the truly great poets
I so admire so often addresses,
high ideals and noble concepts
of our shared common humanity,
therefore great poetry should
respect and affirm true freedom,
and compassion for our fellow
human beings in every land,
on every continent in God’s
creation. The great poets all
address concerns of their age,
the tensions spirit of their age.
Love for their suffering fellow man
‘regardless of race greed or colour’
expressed in a spectrum of compassion.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Great Soul Embraces All Knowing No Enemies
A truly noble soul sees no caste or religion
a great soul sees loves fellow human beings
with love dreams hopes needs fear in their eyes
a great soul gives treats all people equally as
true brothers sisters belonging to one family
a great soul embraces all knowing no enemies
with compassion humility as common humanity.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Freedom By Poetry!
Poetic freedom is the real freedom for human race;
The freedom they enjoy nobody enjoys in the world!
Free birds are the poets leading the world to freedom;
Nothing can stop the poetic spirit of human beings here!
Human life is incomplete without poetry in the world;
Poetry expresses the dreams, visions and imagination
Not only of the poets but also of the whole of mankind!
Poetry is also the criticism of human life in the world.
Poetry talks about the past, present and future for all;
Tells about love, life, Nature and beauty, a full knowledge!
Otherwise not anyone can gain that by any way in the world
And the place of poetry nothing can capture or replace ever!
Humankind is inspired by poetry for freedom to achieve freedom
And education for freedom can be imparted only by poetry ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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There Are A Few Poets
THERE ARE A FEW POETS
There are a few poets
Beyond the poetry you and I know
And are capable of –
There are a few poets
Who seem to write a poetry
Which is Poetry itself,
A Poetry which is everything Poetry should be-
Those poets are somewhere else
On a level far beyond any we can hope to reach-
They are Poetry –
And we we are the little listeners and readers
Who can in awe and praise worship
What we ourselves will forever be incapable of.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Of Your Knowledge On Poetry
Of your knowledge on poetry you wish me to know
Your three favourites poets Eliot, Whitman and Poe
Though great they may be I regret for to say
That on reading them you won't be laughing all day
It is good of you to honour their renown
But this evening I must say I feel a bit down
And though the poetry of Eliot, Whitman and Poe I even read as a boy
Their meaningful words never filled me with joy
If you wish to talk of poetry talk of something that's happy and light
Like the poems of Pam Ayres they are breezy and bright
Though she is one who is not seen as a poetic great
In her poetry the joy of laughter she create
Why talk to me of serious poets and their poetry today
When the tears from my eyes are not that far away
This evening I do need a good laugh or two
Something I cannot have whilst I'm talking to you.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Poets and Poetry
Poets love writing poetry Poetry releases there feelings there are all kinds of poetry, but poetry is in all life nothing can change that. Poets and Poetry is always around us this poetry is about poetry so you decide if you want poetry in your life.
poem by Jeeva Premachandran
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On The Goddess Of Poesy
The Goddess of Poesy the Goddess of Song
To the Universal immortals she surely belong
The poets of the World her praises do sing
The gift of poetry to their souls she does bring.
The poets to write poems Goddess Poesy inspire
And of singing her praises they don't seem to tire
The poetry of sorrow the poetry of joy
The poetry of youth of the young girl and boy.
The poetry of youthfulness and of growing old
Of young women in their prime lovely to behold
The beauty of Nature the birds and the bees
The mammals and fishes of land and of seas.
The Goddess of poets of every gender race and creed
For their inspiration to write in her lives her they need
Of love, life and Nature she inspires poets to write
For the lovers of poetry to read and recite.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Dear Will Shakespeare
Dear Will,
How are things out there?
just thought you'd like to know,
that you're eleventh on the Top Poets list
as of today (though I should mention
that the hittership is 75% from
the New World that you just foresaw
before you 'closed your book'; not
that that's relevant - they speak an
English, isn't that great, which is nearer
to your own sound than the strangled
glottal stops of Cheapside Thames-side these sorry days) ...
So to the list: and so you'll understand
that no offence is meant, etcetera...
top dog today is Sheldon Silverstein -
the sort of oddball who lives down the street
just where the sidewalk ends,
whom your children hang around with all the time -
they loved his poetry when they were kids,
and still love him now they're all grown-up
for what he brought to their childhood - I bet
you wrote some poems like that for your kids
but never got them published? So I know
that though my fellow poets sniff,
you'll grant him - love?
The second is a curious case -
you may know him as Nuftali Basoalto,
we know him now as Pablo Neruda -
and though he wrote in Spanish
(they didn't conquer England but
did rather well on Americ's southern shores)
you'll recognise him even in translation
as a fellow poet, worldwide in his heart...
The third is Maya Angelou - now, no-one
wrote more deeply about women than you did,
and of the human spirit:
so though our fellow poets and critics sniff once more,
she is Woman in Splendour,
Woman as Survivor - so,
remembering your Mistress Quickly and her merry mates,
you'll recognise her instantly for what she is?
majesty - thy name is woman...
The fourth is Langston Hughes - a bit of history here:
the human spirit under great duress,
unvanquished - and if this may oft confine
the poet's wordwide scope, may yet sing loud
the human heart and speak
to generations yet unborn
of spirit tested, hope undimmed
and tears.. and tears...and love.
Emily Dickinson, the fifth - I guess
you may well need to read her twice -
her punctuation's not so - breathless -
as she may seem; neglected in her day,
she speaks out of obscurity to the human heart;
she's earned her place, wouldn't you say?
Robert Frost, the sixth - you may find him
as austere as his wintry and keen-fingered name;
like frost, he touches all the countryside;
secure as Jonson, shall we say, in poetry's ear?
Seventh and ninth - let's put them back together -
frail Sylvia Plath and gaunt Ted Hughes, the star-crossed,
storm-tossed, heart-locked, lovelost lovers -
oh, you who know what passion's spent,
what hearts are wrung, for poetry's salt tears,
admire, despair, their planetary pact
eternal writ among the unrhymed stars...
Which leaves just wild Bukowski, raven Poe
to speak as Marlowe, Webster most of all,
as do your own black tragedies,
of those dark places of the human soul
from which emerges all that's truly clear and bright -
and then yourself...
and there is much to say
of Whitman, Sharpe, Palutsky, Dahl,
all widely read, and following on your heels;
in whom, as you, the heart's as great as this great world itself;
and darkest night smiled on by clearest day;
statistics, poets say, have much, have nothing, yet to answer for -
and so, eternal Will - I wish you God's good day!
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The literary life
We went to the house
of Afrikaans poetry together
on weekends and spent hours there
and listened to the master lecture
and met some poet friends
around a table
with a drink or two.
Sometimes the poetry was Afrikaans,
English, Dutch or even German
and we learnt form poets
around the globe.
We discussed what we had
just learned,
asked about his views
of certain things,
or what people in the group think,
discussed poetry, life,
sometimes even politics
and philosophy
as individuals of a group.
We read our poems,
listened to other poets,
reading their own,
analysed every word, every line
comprehending meaning, impact
and sharpened our art.
Your poetry was really great,
from when I read the very first line,
but mine had still to grow
from rhyme into free verse.
At times I hated comments
that forced me to move,
but realized that it was meant
with great goodwill
and even though I was in pain
I sharpened my verse
and free verse brought
a clearer ear, making it
much easier to write
great rhyme.
Now that I had to leave Pretoria,
weekends I really miss
that great writing school,
new poems from great poets,
learning something there,
experiencing poetry at its core,
lectures from that great master
and verses of his own,
but much more
your poems.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Potential Poetry!
Love has no fear whatsoever in the world;
Poet does all by his love of all matters here;
Poetry is inspiring words of poet for all!
What's not possible by poetry is nothing!
Impossible is expressed in possible words
Making unknown known by poetry only!
Forms and style are poets own creations;
Poetry is ever new in expression of ideas
Inspiring all to be enthusiastic, enlightened!
Love of Nature, life, beauty and love poetry
Explores always deep to express truth new!
Poets are gods of Earth to men to new realm!
Poetry briefly converges all in a nutshell
As powerful as atomic energy in control!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Dawn Of Reasoning Interconnected Mind
At the traditional age of consent,
I found a great undeniable love
for poetry as I strove to make sense
of this world with its nightmare,
of ignored unresolved problems.
I never had the chance to write,
most of my thoughts, down in
poetry. To reflect my reactions
to the events of my era. Life did
not allow time for contemplation.
It is my ardent hope that economic
circumstances or perhaps a more
focused determination; will allow
you to succeed in writing out more
poems of vital importance than I did.
I wrote when time allowed maybe
one in ten of my poems and often
the easiest. While years passed by
sometimes with nothing but work.
The gap in thought record haunts.
Ignore constant discouraging critic.
Your success now is mine your failure
mine. Therefore keep focused and let
at least some of your poetry, address
real issues. And write write write now!
You are in a time and place that requires
strong young poets from within. Past great
American poets would be devastating with
words writ in this era. I am not American,
you must be our voice from within, voice
proclaim and publish your insight! Pray or
meditate as you will and write that which
I lacking your knowledge cannot. The words
will come because the age topics demands it.
We are united in poetry and desire to express
difficult thoughts and concepts, hopefully to
be a voice of positive change! Tools are at
your finger tips, I never had contact with other
poets, in an electronic interconnected web of
minds, at the dawn of righteous determination.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Brief History of Man
For ages the undeveloped
ape-man walked alone
stumbling over himself
in darkness
there was no joy
no laughter nor sense of humor
no smiles but in the
pain and suffering
of others
then we arrived
the loving beings of the light
we looked down upon
yet with compassion
sympathy for our fellow being
thus began the great epic tale
of evolution
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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There Are Poets Whose Greatness
THERE ARE POETS WHOSE GREATNESS
There are poets whose Greatness
Makes my poetry seem
As if it is not Poetry at all.
What am I to do
If I am not really one
Of the great ones?
But one who loves far more
the work of others
Than his own?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Modern Poets And Modern Poetry
Modern poets and modern poetry seem far too complex to understand
For such as I a common labourer from the boglands of Ireland
Though whether it be good or not so it is not for me to say
As I'm not a poetry critic and so I'll keep my tongue at bay.
Maybe some of these modern poets are special and the poems they write are great
And maybe they are superior thinkers writing from exalted state
Most poetical critics now acclaim them and prefer the modern style
And 'twould seem that modern style poets are now the in thing and their efforts seem worthwhile.
But for me it's old style ballad, give me good old fashioned rhyme
To the modern style of poetry I'd prefer it every time
Like I say I'm just a labourer from the boglands of Ireland
And the complex modern style of poetry is far too hard for me to understand.
poem by Francis Duggan
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We'd Like to Make This Perfectly Clear
With all due respect.
And with our expressed sympathies,
Extended.
Our policies have been slandered.
And,
Misunderstood amongst those with beliefs,
Our concerns and actions depict a lack of consciousness.
Those indigenous folks,
Suffering tremendous loss from misinterpretations of progress,
That are 'claimed' to have had an adverse affect on them,
In the Amazon...
Is a media event to heighten low ratings.
And,
Furthermore...
With emphasis on empathy.
We'd like to make this perfectly clear,
A perception of our greed and thoughtlessness...
Has been more than exaggerated.
'Even though recent videotapings of human remains,
Floating in the waters with ruined vegetation...
Has captured a gross disrespect for the region.
And is directly associated with the activities of your company? '
With all due respect.
And with our expressed sympathies,
Extended.
Our policies have been slandered.
And,
Misunderstood amongst those with beliefs,
Our concerns and actions depict a lack of consciousness.
Those indigenous folks,
Suffering tremendous loss from misinterpretations of progress,
That are 'claimed' to have had an adverse affect on them,
In the Amazon...
Is a media event to heighten low ratings.
'Then who is to blame,
For this miscalculation of both justice...
And the spirit of wellbeing enforced,
By the Council of World Environment Protection?
Where IS that concern for our fellow human beings? '
With all due respect.
And with our expressed sympathies,
Extended.
Our policies have been slandered.
And,
Misunderstood amongst those with beliefs,
Our concerns and actions depict a lack of consciousness.
Let this be understood,
We are thoroughly and without question...
Extremely conscious of our misdeeds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Our Poetry Critics
Our poetry critics ageing males on saturday evenings from six to nine
Meet at the literary room of the Lions Club to do what suits them fine
To talk of poetry and poets each to their point of view
Though they agree on one thing that good poets only few.
Well educated gents of course and they could not be rude
But contemporary rhyme poets only poetasters and them they exclude
From their talk of poets and poetry and in their literary knowledge they take pride
And who is or who is not a poet seems their right to decide.
They never talk about bush poets such verse they see as slipshod
And they see them as the children of the lesser poetry god
And for their years in Uni they have their degrees to show
And of poets and of poetry so much they think they know.
To them a poem is not a poem unless it reads like prose
And a ballad different from true verse as a weed is from a rose
And true poets only write for the privileged few that's what they do imply
And never for the ordinary, people like you and I.
Our poetry critics at the Lions they meet on saturday
And who is a good poet and what is a good poem each like to have their say
And if you wish to become a member of their club you must have your Uni Degrees
For if not to them you are not qualified for to talk about poetry.
poem by Francis Duggan
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0005 Totally Boring Poem
I’m totally bored by:
poems that sound like other poems
poems that try to sound unlike any other poems
poets who never take risks
poets who think that taking risks
makes them good poets
poems with 'meaning'
poems with no meaning
poets who slag off other poets
as if that achieves something
poets that tell you that rhyme
is not for an age but for all time
poets that tell you that rhyme is outmoded and boring
poets who think that the poetry of 'the past'
is greater than that of 'the present'
poets who think that the poetry of 'the present'
is greater than that of 'the past'
poems that tell you the poet's the first to discover sex
poets that tell you they’re the best sex you’ll ever have
although you’ll never meet them to find out
poets that tell you they’ve been dumped
poets who've never known love and being dumped
poets who are ambitious
poets who are unambitious
poets who tell you all about higher things
poets who reject higher things
poets who think life’s just a joke
poets who think life’s no joke
poets who sit on the fence
poets who have no sense of balance
poets who despise 'the middle ground'
poets who talk about technique
poets with no technique
poets who just throw down their thoughts
poets who 'work up' their poems to a self-satisfied polish
poets who list what they like (who cares?)
poets who list what don’t like (who cares?)
poets who write about extreme states
poets who think they’re immune to extreme states
poets who tell you why they’re bored
poets who have opinions
poets who seem to have no opinions at all
poets who have boring opinions to air - why choose poetry?
poets who comment on others' poems
as if it's the last word
poets who never bother to comment
on others' poems
poets who don't love poetry passionately
poets who tell you they 'love poetry passionately'
poets who – oh I’m too bored to go on reading this,
how about you?
I suppose you have boring opinions too?
another time perhaps
and oh yes I'm most of all bored by
those who waste their precious time on this earth
being bored
well I feel better for that.
how about you?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Fun Or Fate Poetry Writing?
Poetry writing has become a matter of fun!
With play of words many indulge in this fun;
Fun without fact will make poetry quite inept.
Fun or fate, some write poetry with true fact!
There are many things for them to have fun,
But it has become easy to play in poetry sites.
Also there are comments, voting and ranking;
These make them play this game regularly!
Fact is some are born poets in these sites also!
It is quite true some become poets sooner here!
Also it happens that some are branded as poets!
So goes the survival of these sites by this fun!
No poetry can survive long without fun and fact;
Fun or fate, poetry has become a part of life ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Poetries Travesty
Poetry is not such a pleasure
To those who live in reality
and it will forever be a leisure
To those who live in insanity
The world begrudges poetry with its whole being
For it involves a complex explanation
and from this we believe poetry is not worth reading
For it ensues exaggeration
Hearing poetry for many is torture
To poets this is an old calamity
What will come to them in the future
The great poets of this world’s society
One emotion shaped from a hand gesture
Made something in words; while dreaming
Yet even if poetry is not your pleasure
There will be a day we all will be believing
Paltry words speak of an insecure
Talent; tangible of tergiversation
and from this envoy we can ensure
That in this time there will be a transformation
poem by Joseph Michalski
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My Wish Is For A Perfect World
The World might well be different if religion and patriotism
died
And if mistrust and greed died with them there would be peace World wide
But with these four still prevalent what hope for harmony
And what hope for love and tolerance for all humanity.
That the clergy bless the troops for war seems hard to understand
To go and throw their lives away for religion and land
That man should kill his fellow man not written in God's will
The fifth commandment clearly state the words 'thou shalt not kill'.
Intolerance, greed and mistrust all of these go side by side
With lust for land and religion and patriotic pride
All these have given rise to wars and yet we've failed to see
The mistakes our fore fathers made nor learnt from history
I am not condemning religion in case you get me wrong
And I have great respect for those who worship God in song
But when religion lead men to war 'tis there the wrong come
in
For wars are caused by ignorance where winners cannot win.
And as for patriotism that has the strangest ring
Of the noble men who died in war the ballad maker sing
They thought it the great sacrifice to give their lives for land
But the most who lived to reap the gain never took gun in hand.
And as for greed and mistrust of those what can one say?
For human self enlightenment I hope to see the day
For all human beings have good in them or so 'twould seem that way
But some can't reach their higher self and somehow go astray
It's up to every individual to live good as they can
To make this world a better world for family of man
To learn more about tolerance and live in harmony
My wish is for a perfect world but that may never be
poem by Francis Duggan
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