Slicks Matrix
I am the poet junkie
writing my fix
anytime of any day
when thoughts I must say
in form rarely chunky
yet words may transfix
clicks the poet junkie
writing lyrics fix
anytime of any day
traffics thoughts at bay
in form rarely funky
yet words may transfix
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I Am No Poet
A poet... oh i am? , says I,
Perhaps it's what you think
Just mixed up words of life I cry
Like someone on the brink
Mere words assembled in a row
From thoughts a few of many
labelled then a poet so
Though none worth but a penny
I speak as though my mind should find
My head in quite a spin
With rhymes and verse a peace I find
That life could ne'er begin
That label sticks and holds me back
A form I have to follow
A fear of literary attack
Can leave my words quite hollow
So cast me not as just a poet
Sense that i am fighting
I'm more than that and you should know it
That's why i keep writing..
poem by Dave James
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poet Junkie
I am the poet junkie
writing my fix
anytime of everyday
each sacrifice day
throughout daylight
throughout night
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Written in September 2010 on the 17.9.2010.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anytime
Ooh, ooh anytime that you want me
Ooh, ooh anytime that you want me
Ooh, ooh anytime that you want me to
Ooh, ooh anytime that you need me
Im standing here with my arms a mile wide
Hoping and praying for you
Listen to me and enlighten me
I hope that you need me too, cause,
Ooh, ooh anytime that you want me
Ooh, ooh anytime that you want me
Ooh, ooh anytime that you want me to
Ooh, ooh anytime that you need me
Give me all of your sunshine
A spark is all I need
To take away, all of the shadows
Well what more can I say.
Anytime at all
Anytime at all
Anytime at all
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Poetic Prudence
A fixed meter, fixed rhyme sequence
Are important in Sonnet writing- Yes;
Thus, structured poetry is rigid- hence,
How far the thoughts get penned down is a guess!
The chosen form must suit the writer’s needs;
The structure too reflects the poet’s tone;
Both rosaries and necklaces have beads!
A sonnet must not be a sculptured stone!
Yes, content is more important than form;
The words must flow in harmony aright;
A Sonnet’s structure ought to do no harm
To what the poet intended to write.
What poets say must get the preference;
The other things shall act like just a fence!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-4-2005
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beware Words Written
words celebrating what is written
beware allure of beauty in words written
seek instead words thoughts not written
words not written thoughts not written
themes not written which need to be written
the importance of the unwritten demands writing
important world needs consciousness needs writing
urgent global necessity issues demands needs writing
actions resolutions policy change harmony restoration needs writing
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Journey Of A Poet
A journey begins with
A thought in our mind
Words are chosen and formed.
Lines of poem
Well Written with meanings
With words of emotions and expressions
A poet starts with
An inspiration of mind,
An aspiration in soul mind
With reflection
On our life experience
We start to
Compose some
Wonderful poetry
Expressing our innermost thoughts
With deep contemplation
To put them in poetry words
A journey begins when
A poet takes his imagination
To a place where
No one ever dream or imagine before.
A poet's journey ends by
Writing another lovely poem
And deep reflection
A poet remains
As a poet
When he or she
Continue to
Write and Share
lovely poems with the world.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Revolution Poetry Is....!
Are you writing words of rhythm according to thoughts?
Or are you coining words of thoughts according to rhythm?
Or are you writing poetry both working at the same time?
Asking so, if they ask me how to write poetry, what shall I say?
Poetry writing is natural, spontaneous expression from heart!
How can this be taught to anyone to write poetry ever at all?
Poetry is a spontaneous flow of words direct from heart ever!
I wonder many a time how am I writing poetry at all ever!
But this is happening to my great surprise since longtime!
Due to engagements ever poetry only I am able to write
Though my aim in the beginning was writing stories.....,
Novels, short stories and nonfiction articles of criticism!
Poetry books too I have completed writing so since long
But what a pity there is no reception for poetry books...!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Writing The Words
I’m writing this at your funeral.
As I watch all the people in tears.
I wish I could join them,
But I know I have to be strong.
I’m writing this on my hand,
No paper to get it down on.
I want to remember your funeral,
So I’m writing this to honour you.
I’m writing the thoughts that pop into my head,
Making sure they are only the best.
I have to remember,
Because I couldn’t live with myself if I ever forgot.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
As people dropp flowers onto your coffin.
I stand up to dropp my own,
Blue, unlike the others, because I know it’s your favourite.
I’m writing this through the ceremony,
Because if I listen to the words I’ll cry.
And I know I can’t, for you,
I have to keep it together.
I’m writing the words I want to say,
To make people remember how much love you gave.
Because I want them to know,
How much of it you gave to me.
So, I’m writing this at your funeral,
To stop myself from shedding a tear.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
So that I never ever forget you.
poem by Rachel Brewer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Junkie (demo Version)
Disillusions fillin' my head
Never happy, I wished I was dead
Can't remember things I used to know
Take another hit Lord, let the four winds blow
Junkie, junkie man
Feel so lonely, I wish I could cry
Suicidal, not man enough to die
Can't remember ever feelin' this low
Take another hit babe, here I go
Junkie, junkie man
Yonder come a man, Lord he's got my snow
Help me out babe, get down low
But I can't remember things I used to know
The Lord knows I'm to blame.
Take another hit Lord, and let the four winds blow
Junkie, junkie man
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poet
POET
He is a poet
When his thoughts survey
What distressed millions flay
He is a poet
When his works slay
Every social evil sway
He is a poet
When his words relay
What virtuous people say
He is a poet
When his expressions lay
Portraits on brains’ gray
Sathya….
poem by Sathya Narayana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken heart
Poets have broken hearts
My wife Tapaswini alleged
And without broken hearts
No one would be a poet
My wife Tapaswini clarified.
The poet wonders in his world
The poet work wonders through
His words and sentences
And my wife Tapaswini left
No space for my replied.
My wife Tapaswini left the place
Where I was and my wife Tapaswini
Could not reach me where I am
And the sparrow the crow all
Arranged their feast with joy
Where I am writing poem.
Where I was writing I was there
Where I am writing I am there
My wife Tapaswini always with me
I was not with my wife Tapaswini
While writing and the allegation
Of my wife Tapaswini I certified
And I attested One can take it granted.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem about Poetry - what is not poetry
writing lines
not like a child
writing lines
robotlike
hitting at keys
rather than own heart
writing lines
throwing words
which are yet
our friends
words picked
from thesaurus
dictionaries
for word's sake
an alley of prostitutes
we treat as our wives
godless
writing as if
the world
possesses
no soul and
god, the real poet
who spares symbols
for his creation
trees, lightning,
thunder
for poets
to colour their world
to see the other side
of the world
how the trees, lightning
thunder
are a part of men
themselves
described,
the trees - spring of youth
lightning - rage
thunder - warning
the warming effect
god's verse to men's uncaring verse
misinterpretation of his symbols
god the leading poet
the world a repository of symbols
for his masterpiece
a masterpiece
we could only admire
the real poet leaves us
something to ponder about
and to add a verse or two
to his work
like the almighty poet
who when he likes
answers us back
in riddles
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0396 The Almost Unknown Language
I like to think that
there's a language
which is unspoken, unwritten
except
on rare occasions when a poet
puts two words together or
sometimes even
a whole line
which haunts the reader
beyond sense, even
beyond understanding and
beyond beauty as perceived and
beyond truth as previously revealed
but good beyond hope and yet
not beyond a shiver of delight and
the poet has heard it
in the space between the thoughts
in the space between the words
in the silence between the thoughts
in the silence between the words
and somewhere very wonderful
two beings we've never seen
look at each other
and smile
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poet child and grammar
No grammar is needed
In a child's world
In a poet's world
In the world of love
The poet the child
Are living always
And no one can put them
In trouble water
Poet is a free bird
With his words his languages
His dreams are with him
He is sharing his dreams
His thoughts that is
His greatness.
Leave the poet alone
Leave the child alone
Leave them to smile to laugh
To love to live
You can apply them as they are
You can put them on your own way
And in regular form and understand
On your own what they expressed
Beyond vocabulary beyond grammar
And see everything is alright.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Written Word Rules!
At the idea of poetry, some people seem to scoff,
As they consider it is an art form only for toffs.
They may think that the concept of poetry is boring,
And that it will leave them fast asleep and snoring.
There are all types of poems: modern and classical.
There’s something for everyone: it’s not boring at all.
The lyrics of songs are poems as such;
They often rhyme together very much.
People like to sing along with their favourite songs,
So why does the concept of poetry feel so wrong?
I’ve only started writing poetry in the last few weeks,
And, I have to admit that I thought it was just for geeks.
But, now I can see, that whoever you are,
Everyone has the potential to go really far.
I have to admit, I much prefer
The written, to the spoken word.
At night, I lay awake tossing and turning in bed,
With random thoughts running through my head.
By my pillow, I keep a pen and note pad,
To jot down any thoughts, which I’ve had.
At the top of the page, my thoughts I jot,
And I always plan out a really rough plot.
I like to include words which have a nice ring.
Words, like these, into my poetry, I like to bring.
I continually go through the alphabet time after time,
Searching for useful words which, pretty much, rhyme.
In simple terms, my ideas, I always like to express;
Complicated and fancy words, my mind doesn’t posses.
I’m sat here, writing this poem, on a speeding train,
As thought after thought, floods into my brain.
I’m writing notes on a mini pocket timetable,
In any tiny blank space which is available.
In my handbag, I’ve got no pad, but I’ve got a pen;
My scribbled notes, I just hope I can comprehend.
I really must start carrying a notepad everywhere;
To forget all these thoughts I’ve had, I couldn’t bear.
When I’m thinking of ideas, I just can’t relax;
My mind seems to buzz to the absolute max.
I’m not far now from my final destination,
And the train is due to pull into the station.
On this subject, there’s not much more to be said,
So, I’m now putting this poem well and truly to bed.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not The Poem Then
NOT THE POEM THEN
Not the poem then
Although it can be the poem
Writing
Simply writing
This is the duty and the meaning
And the release from meaninglessness
And the ‘enabling me to go on’
The poem is only one form of it
It is the writing which matters
My life has been this
This writing
Even if it is a poor poem now
As I write these words
I live.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life is a bed of lyrics
Life is a bed of lyrics
So like an obsessive critic
I listen to any type of music
While it addresses its topic
When words flow in an orderly traffic
You can influence an entire public
Even if its structure is plain and basic
You can convince even the sceptics
When you speak in lyrics
The effect can be so drastic
Sometimes you apply technique
To produce some form of comic
Please don't panic
When I say 'Life is a bed of lyrics '
Even a poet’s style is rhythmic
With lyrics we can play the game of politics
Words can sooth or send you to a clinic
As we seek to manoeuvre great gimmicks
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anytime
Written by randy owen, teddy gentry, and greg fowler
Anytime you wanna love me you can love me anytime
Early morning, late at night, anytime the time is right
Oh, if you want to hold me, well, you know that you can
Anytime, anytime, i'm your man
Baby you're something, you're something else
I'll keep you're loving all to myself
I live for the moment when its just you and me
Baby, just you and me
Anytime you wanna love me you can love me anytime
'cause i'm ready and i'm willing, name the placem name the time
December through november, just give me your hand
Anytime, anytime, i'm your man
So hold me close, close as you can
Whisper to me, now what's your plan
You can trust me, understand baby, understand
Anytime you wanna love me you can love me anytime
Oh, if you want to hold me, well, you know you always can
Anytime, anytime, i'm your man
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you dare
Although I’m fond of poetry.I find
the modern free form style lacks appeal for me.
I prefer disciplined formality
because I think it clarifies my mind
I chose my words, so my thoughts are well defined.
I cannot claim impartiality
nor dare I quote any authority.
All poetry I think should be designed
to serve some purpose which is clear to see.
Some train of thought the poet wishes to share.
Something he has seen in reality
or high flown fantasy beyond compare.
This is the art of writing poetry
To prove that you can do it, you must dare.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Liberty Sought For All
Words keep filling my brain.
I rarely write them down.
Because as soon as I empty my head.
Words start filling my brain again.
I can never empty my head.
For there remains too much unsaid.
Poignant thoughts, enlightened ideas, ideals.
Waiting for a poet to bring them to heal.
Words. Words. Words. Words. Words.
Whirling Whirling Whirling Whirling Words.
Waiting for a chosen moment, of precise creativity.
Waiting for a special moment, of ordained existence.
Waiting to transform
a corrupt materialistic world.
Waiting to put compassion
back into heartless hearts.
Waiting to restore love
vitality freedom and nobility.
Waiting to herald a new age
of heaven sent realized liberty.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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