Poems Of The Heart (Their Origin)
Did you perhaps attend my Springtime class?
Participating flushed and imbued from past silences?
Or are you in the mountains now?
Masked in the rocky crags of camouflage?
Will i find you brisk as the Winter wind?
Or will you be still as the first leaf of Fall upon the sod?
And what of your eyes-are they still filled with Summer intent?
With perhaps the beginnings of your first poem?
Are you at last out from the shadows that once spoiled you?
Or are your ears now filled with the music of rhyme?
And your breaths-are they the reason for the seasons?
What of your purpose-is it now defined by rhyme so sublime?
Has it at last arrived in your heart?
Where all poems have been born throughout time.
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Times A' Tickin'
Its half past forever...
And i'm wastin' no more time--
I gotta get through...
Your reason and your rhyme;
Gotta make sense--
Of the things that you do--
Gotta find answers...
To the enigma thats you;
Its half past forever--
And i'm wastin' no more time--
I gotta get through...
Your reason and your rhyme;
Gotta try to understand...
Why your heart is so cold--
Gotta find out...
Before i get too old;
Tell ya i been tryin' so hard...
To figure out just what makes you tick...
Gotta find the answer---
Before it makes me sick;
Its half past forever--
And i'm wastin' no more time---
I gotta get through...
Your reason and your rhyme;
Tell ya i've never known--
Such a hate filled guy...!
Gotta find out...
Your reasons-and your why;
'Cause its make or break time...
For me and for you--
Gotta settle this one pronto...
Or we will be through;
Its half past foever--
And i'm wastin' no more time--
I gotta get through...
Your reason and all of your rhyme;
Gotta find out...
Just what makes ya tick...
Gotta find out...
Before it makes me sick;
Song Lyrics
May 30,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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Full Circle
Beginning 'neath the late Summer moonlight-
Embraced in the leaves of Fall...
Awed by Winter time and icy places...
But reponding to the Springs south wind call;
Lips tempting more to come...
Over the past months of weathered time...
Verging on passions filled Summer fire once again-
Ending in loves most perfect rhyme;
Dedicated to: The Passage of Seasons and Times In Our Lives;
To remembrance and Debbie Harry -Blondie and her songs-Call Me, One Way Or Another, Heart Of Glass and to her amazing performance on The T.V. Land Awards this evening.
April 25,2010. Thank you all for taking us on a walk down memory lane.
poem by Theodora Onken
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A Reason for Every Season (My ode to the seasons and Indian summer.)
There is a purpose that God and nature gave us every season.
Fall, winter, spring, and summer always happens for this reason.
In the fall all the trees turn many cool colors and paint a wonderful hue.
Winter arrives the temperature drops and can make some of us blue.
When spring is near they say April showers bring May flowers.
The weather becomes hotter when summer arrives.
The summer also brings us June weddings and brides..
Without the seasons then life for all mankind would be just a bummer.
We all wish for our weather outside to be like a warm Indian summer.
*I got inspired this write my poem after I read the poems; ‘INDIAN SUMMER’ by Emily Dickinson and the other poem is called ‘LOVE IS LIKE AN INDIAN SUMMER’ by Sue Raymer Woods.
Definition Indian summer - noun is a name given to a period of sunny, warm weather in autumn, not long before winter.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
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Summer Is Over
finally feeling so free
everything is fine, its as good as can be
finished all my summer homework
no longer busy as a bee
it feels great to have nothing to do, actually
cant believe the summer is over
out of luck, no time to search for a four leaf clover
it all just went by too fast
the good, the bad, memories there forever to last
back to a schedule filled with routine
we never got to chill, i only saw u once
and it didnt count, cuz it was in a dream
i didnt really get to hang out with anyone
no trips this year, not much fun
best part was just soaking in the sun
did my skin really look golden?
or were you just trying to rhyme?
whatever it doesnt matter
the poem was sublime
poem by Lola Romero
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Rhyme
Poets rhyme from time to time
They don’t find rhyme a crime
It’s no sin, their using rhyme
Inspired rhyme is so sublime
Can often form a perfect line
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Weather Report Suite Part 1
Winter rain, now tell me why, Summers fade, and roses die.
The answer came; the wind and rain.
Golden hills, now veiled in grey, Summer leaves have blown away
Now what remains? The wind and rain.
And like a desert spring, my lover comes and spreads her wings, Knowing,
Like a song that's born to soar the sky, Flowing,
Flowing 'til the waters all are dry, Growing, the loving in her eyes.
Circle songs and sands of time, and seasons will end in tumbled rhyme,
and little change, the wind and rain.
And like a desert spring, my lover comes and spreads her wings,
Knowing, Like a song that's born to soar the sky,
Flowing, Flowing 'til the rivers all are dry, Growing, the loving in her eyes.
Winter grey and falling rain, we'll see summer come again,
Darkness falls and seasons change (gonna happen every time).
Same old friends the wind and rain, Summers fade and roses die,
You'll see summer come again, Like a song that's born to soar the sky.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weather Reporst Suite Part I
Winter rain, now tell me why, Summers fade, and roses die.
The answer came; the wind and rain.
Golden hills, now veiled in grey, Summer leaves have blown away
Now what remains? The wind and rain.
And like a desert spring, my lover comes and spreads her wings, Knowing,
Like a song that's born to soar the sky, Flowing,
Flowing 'til the waters all are dry, Growing, the loving in her eyes.
Circle songs and sands of time, and seasons will end in tumbled rhyme,
and little change, the wind and rain.
And like a desert spring, my lover comes and spreads her wings,
Knowing, Like a song that's born to soar the sky,
Flowing, Flowing 'til the rivers all are dry, Growing, the loving in her eyes.
Winter grey and falling rain, we'll see summer come again,
Darkness falls and seasons change (gonna happen every time).
Same old friends the wind and rain, Summers fade and roses die,
You'll see summer come again, Like a song that's born to soar the sky
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weather Report Suite
Winter rain, now tell me why, summers fade, and roses die.
The answer came; the wind and rain.
Golden hills, now veiled in gray, summer leaves have blown away
Now what remains? the wind and rain.
And like a desert spring, my lover comes and spreads her wings, knowing,
Like a song thats born to soar the sky, flowing,
Flowing til the waters all are dry, growing, the loving in her eyes.
Circle songs and sands of time, and seasons will end in tumbled rhyme,
And little change, the wind and rain.
And like a desert spring, my lover comes and spreads her wings,
Knowing, like a song thats born to soar the sky,
Flowing, flowing til the rivers all are dry, growing, the loving in her eyes.
Winter gray and falling rain, well see summer come again,
Darkness falls and seasons change (gonna happen every time).
Same old friends the wind and rain, summers fade and roses die,
Youll see summer come again, like a song thats born to soar the sky.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dainty Thing's The Villanelle
A DAINTY thing's the Villanelle,
Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme,
It serves its purpose passing well.
A double-clappered silver bell
That must be made to clink in chime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And if you wish to flute a spell,
Or ask a meeting 'neath the lime,
It serves its purpose passing well.
You must not ask of it the swell
Of organs grandiose and sublime--
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And, filled with sweetness, as a shell
Is filled with sound, and launched in time,
It serves its purpose passing well.
Still fair to see and good to smell
As in the quaintness of its prime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle,
It serves its purpose passing well.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Villanelle
A dainty thing's the Villanelle.
Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme,
It serves its purpose passing well.
A doublc-clappered silver bell
That must be made to clink in chime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And if you wish to flute a spell,
Or ask a meeting 'neath the lime,
It serves its purpose passing well.
You must not ask of it the swell
Of organs grandiose and sublime-
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And, filled with sweetness, as a shell
Is filled with sound, and launched in time,
It serves its purpose passing well.
Still fair to see and good to smell
As in the quaintness of its prime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle,
It serves its purpose passing well.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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The Seasons Are Like You
The seasons are like you
Flowers bloom humming birds come home everything
Changes but not you you stay the same they must
Leave and you will stay cause you are my winter
Spring summer and fall you stay with me through
The seasons cause you are my winter spring summer
And fall stay with me you have the eyes of winter
The face of spring the body of summer the hair of
Fall because you are like winter cool and calm you
Are like spring beautiful and blossoming you are
Like summer warm and caring you are like fall
Gentle and long lasting cause you are like winter spring
Summer and fall you are my seasons without you I
Am nothing do not leave me I need you careing stay
Please I need you
this is dedicated to savannah
poem by Tucker Lane
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The Times Keep On Changing
As dead as the dodo some say about rhyme
But then suppose everything does have it's time
The great rhyme poets and poetesses in their long rest now lay
They did have their innings one of them can say.
In art, music and literature the changes do happen fast
And only Nature forever is the one who does last
People come and go and the past it has gone
And only Nature herself seems to keep keeping on.
In the last days of Winter coming up to the Spring
Out there in the woodland the birds nest and sing
To insure the survival of their species they must breed that is Nature's way
In Nature there is birth and there is death every day.
It does seem that most things have their use by date
And for anyone or anything time does not wait
And though some to the past with great fondness do cling
Each new generation with them new ideas bring.
The times keep on changing and changing quite fast
And nothing save Nature ever does seem to last
But the big river forever to the great ocean does flow
And the Seasons they come and the Seasons they go.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Your Last Line...It Does Not Rhyme
I've been accused of not giving.
When that is all I've ever done.
I've also been accused of not participating,
Although when I did...
None of that from the others would come.
From anyone!
Not even 'some'.
Now that I have chosen my time not to waste,
I've been told I am ungrateful...
And self centered,
Of late.
And my response to those who bait division...
Is that we all make decisions.
And I've made mine to break away from that madness.
'Your last line...
It does not rhyme.'
And I ain't trying to find reason for it, either.
When I eat cookies and leave not a crumb...
That means I'm done!
'Cool.
That line does rhyme.'
It makes me happy you have set your priorities.
So have I.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Alankar(Decor) -63
Just In A Minute (Minute Poem)
The Minute Poem is:
a 12 line Poem made up of 3 quatrains.
syllabic, L1 8 syllables and L2-L3- L4-4 syllables each.
rhymed, rhyme scheme of aabb ccdd eeff.
A flash of memory in fills-
There the pupils
Of my old school
Quite bored and cool-
It was the day's last period
Pupils were tired
Just third class kids
With shut eye lids-
One naughty boy of higher class
Slipped out from class
Like a bad thief
Did the mischief
Rang the bell before closing time
Stirred school in rhyme
Dispersed early
Hurry-scurry
poem by Indira Renganathan
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A poem with the perfect rhyme
If a poem could cost a dime
I will spend my ink and spend my time
Making the perfect rhyme
More than a million people may read it
Even if I have to sell it on credit
I will be the businesswoman with wit
Sit down! Think about it!
A penny for the perfect sentence
A penny for a poem glaring with essence
A penny for writing about the present and past tense
A penny for describing a situation that is intense
A penny if I write truthfully without pretence
As I turn away from crime
Making the perfect rhyme
If a poem could cost a pound
I will turn my life around
As I compose the perfect poetic sound
That rhymes against any background
My words will be sublime
Not just the perfect rhyme
They will be read both at teatime and during bedtime
My sentences will mature in their prime with time
As I turn away from crime
Making the perfect rhyme
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
www.sylviachidi.co.uk
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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To Rhyme?
I wonder now and again
whether or not
my poems should rhyme
if they should have a rhythmic
pentameter that catches the readers
like small fish out by the moonlit lake
where they jump for joy
when the humans have gone
For the world is filled of rhyme
as we whittle down our time
we spend it all down on this earth
the flesh decays and brings new birth
But then I realize
to rhyme is not my style
for at times, I feel that
more so than a line
the rhyme is a trap
more of a bear than a mouse
and I wonder if with my first couplet
where there begins a sort of catchy scheme
the readers bob their head to
-dah dah dah dah dah dah dah
and then they realize
that I've lost most of my flare
for my expression has been limited
by this beautiful
yet altogether mortal language
so with that
I continue to roll my tongue
as my fingers clatter on the keyboard
and I tell you stories
instead of singing you songs
poem by Jorge Garcia
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A Poem Is...
A poem is a set of thoughts some writer may express,
Such that with these as his cohorts, who knows if he will bless?
Yet if he does, then shake his hand and pat him on the back!
If not, then banish from this land, or else give him the sack!
A poem is a set insight some writer may relay,
That helps to pass some stormy night or some cold rainy day...
If not, a night without a storm, a day with sunshine filled,
It matters not if hot, cold, warm, as long as we are thrilled...
A poem is a set of themes some writer thinks as wise,
Enough to share with us his dreams with reams before our eyes...
As if to serve some higher will, or merely help his tribe,
Ten years may pass, yet he writes still, as if some royal scribe...
A poem is a precious gift, some writer's masterpiece,
Through which the reader has to sift, its nuggets to release...
Or else it's just some words that rhyme, or unrhymed phrases penned,
In either case, was it sublime, as if a brand new friend?
A poem is a talent shared, fresh-written or in books
And thus with others is compared as each new reader looks...
Anthologies are all the rage! That's where my poems are!
You see, in time, I reached the stage when I became a star!
So read my poems here and there! Reflect on old and new,
If you like them, then say a prayer, because I've prayed for you...
That you may find my treasure trove, my love-filled legacy,
My talent meant to bless us both... for all eternity...
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
The poem was written in regard to a TV series
on Sky Digital's Disney Junior and Disney Junior+
entitled A Poem Is... It was described in this way:
A series of classic poetry shorts read by iconic
British celebrities combined with powerful
animation moments from Disney's magical legacy...
poem by Denis Martindale
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A Poem Does Not Have to Rhyme
There are those who think in order for a poem to have rhythm it must rhyme, but a poem does not have to rhyme to have rhythm.
The rhythm comes for the poet’s soul not the rhyming of words.
The rhythm is in emotions that the poet’s poem evokes.
From a soulful cry to feeling of love and from the passion of hate to the awakening of understanding this is the beat, the rhythm of a poem. Now don’t get me wrong if a poem rhyme and has soul it is cool too, but I just wanted everyone to know that a poem does not have to rhyme.
4 Seasons
How will I stand the summer
When spring was such a bummer
How will I weather my winter
When my fall was such a ballbuster
Its spring and therell be no spring fling
When my winter was what a winner
And I am taking a fall
cause if I aint got you I got nothing at all
How will I stand the summer
When the spring just made me dumber
How will I fare my fall
Will I lose my mind in the wintertime
Its spring and Im a spring ding-a-ling
Its summer and Im just a little dumber
And I am taking a fall
cause if I aint got you I got nothing at all
Thru the 4 seasons
Im searching for reasons
Im not gonna take the spring
cause the spring dont mean a thing
Im not gonna take the winter
My winter is a splinter
Im not gonna take the summer
Summer is such a bummer
But I am taking the fall
cause if I aint got you I got nothing at all
Thru the 4 seasons
Im searching for reasons
Vivaldi, the 4 seasons
It seems to me to be a theme of love
With no variations of aggravations
Spring, summer, winter and fall
Spring, summer, winter and fall
Spring, summer, winter and fall
If I aint got you I got nothing at all
Gordon gano: vocal, guitar
Brian ritchie: acoustic bass guitar, vocal
Guy hoffman: snare, tranceaphone, vocal
Recorded and mixed by david vartanian at dvs perversion room, milwuakee, wi
gorno music reprinted with permission
song performed by by Violent Femmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seasons of Promise
Winter is a time of warmth when I am close to you
A time of sharing stories and of praising what is true
The cold wind can be daunting when one is all alone
But Winter is a time of warmth when I am close to you
Spring is filled with wonderment when I am close to you
A time of bursting energy and life so bold and new
The rain can be quite chilling when one is all alone
But Spring is filled with wonderment when I am close to you
Summer's light is restful when I am close to you
As nature paints a picture with pleasing greens and blue
The heat can be exhausting when one is all alone
But Summer's light is restful when I am close to you
Autumn days are crisp and clear when I am close to you
The reds and golds come once again, yet always seem so new
Letting go brings sadness when one is all alone
But Autumn days are crisp and clear when I am close to you
I will be with you in Winter when snow is thick and cold
I will be with you in Springtime when new life is taking hold
I will be with you in Summer when sun and growth abound
I will be with you when Autumn's old life decorates the ground
poem by Mark Bratlie
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