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I Promise

Take my hand
And walk with me into the sunlight;

We’ll take the poetry of Keats
And the poetry of Yeats,

We’ll pray beside flowers
And walk through sacred gates
Of a new beginning
Where every hurt is healed
And dissipates.

I’ll find child-like innocence
In your eyes,
And I promise to believe
That love will never die.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry...Poetry...

Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.

Poetry...Poetry...

Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.

Poetry...Poetry...

Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.

Poetry...Poetry...

Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.

Poetry...Poetry...

poem by Akash Agrawal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An act of poetry

Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry

A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art

Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation

Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:

The pen be our salvation.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Dont Write Poetry!

i dont write poetry...
i sweat poetry, i drink poetry,
i breathe poetry, i make love to poetry,
i fight poetry, i eat poetry,
i bleed poetry, i crap poetry...
too often i betray poetry,
sometimes i dropp poetry.
once i tripped over poetry,
got angry and kicked poetry.
i rocked poetry on a sleepless night,
i buried poetry on the hill...
i lived poetry, for i am poetry...

no, i dont write poetry,
but poetry writes me!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry Is

poetry is what the soul wants
poetry is infinite sound that taunts
poetry is strength of ones spirit
poetry is the powerful truth within it
poetry is love and hate
poetry is what makes you stop wait and appreciate
poetry is something you should die for
poetry is what makes you dropp to the floor
poetry is put up randomly
poetry is, well, simply poetry

poem by Daniel Romero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love in all its Glory

Within the petals of the rose
Captured in the fragrance of the orchid
Nurtured by the holy water of love
Drenched in the sunlight of your being
My love is kept safe in the woman
That is you

Within your eyes there is a flame
Born of passion, fuelled by a sacred trust
A woman beyond Michael Angelo’s imagination
Beyond the dreams of first love.

Your face worthy of every love poem ever written
With a smile that my dreams can,
Play over and over again in a world,
That only you and I know

Where we can walk, hand in hand
Through dreams that have not yet spoken
Down paths where our emotions merge
Where two hearts beat as one
In this glorious thing we call love

Here our souls can lay down together
Away from this troubled world
To make love, for angels to envy
Where your kisses heal the man that is me
To bring me back from the abyss

To see the sunrise through your eyes
Hand in hand with my one true love
And when we are three
I pray that our child will grow
To find love and happiness
Just like you and me

poem by Steven Cooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry On The Chin

You gouged my mind's eye,
Tantalised all inner thought,
Shocked from unknown angles;
Sold me, told me cold,
Unfolded, moulded;
Shouldered any harbouring
Of empty morals.

You spun me round; undressed -
Pestered me with background riddle -
Piffle came to gleaning meaning.
And you stripped out prejudice - for none
Must exist in poetry,
Lest you close up an open mind
And f**k up as reader;
Lest your heart is not a bleeder -
It has to be - let it flush out
Upon your sleeve.

You lay apart my thinking brain
And let in the literary pickings of a
Great poetic phallus.
Yes, poetry can be callous.

Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2010

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem about Poetry - Poetry Is Not

poetry is not the rain
poetry is how the rain
beats down on your path
poetry is not in the man
poetry is how you open
his heart with your smile
poetry is not in the flowers
poetry is how you can use them
to help your friends bloom
yesterday, today, tomorrow
poetry is not the sea
poetry is how you spread your
laughter over its surging water
and count your blessing with
every shell you pick up

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry Is All In One!

Passion for poetry is insatiable!
Poetry gives pleasure nothing can!
Poetry is many subjects under one roof!
Poetry never bores to write and read ever!
Poetry is a compression of many ideas in a nut shell!
Poetry displays power of pen to capture men ever!
Poetry captures as photo castles built in air!
Poetry is spontaneous over flow of ides!
Poetry flows free if extemporary!
Poetry is prolific words sure!
Poetry is a thing of joy!
Poetry is beauty!
Poetry is witty!
Poetry cheers!

poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry is the Divine Part of Man

Poetry haters love to make fun of the touchy-feely stuff
as though that defined who or what poetry is.

Poetry is the last time the sun gets reflected
in somebody's eyes, when they're saying goodbye-
maybe for forever.

And it's that first dropp of rain, touches the new brides veil,
blesses her; as she's lifting it off her face
for the first time, after being kissed in the marriage ceremony.

And poetry might be that bubble,
over the sink.. keeps floating away, fully intact;
even though all the laws of physics and gravity may be saying
it ought not be able to go on existing;

And poetry in motion
is a baby, trying to walk and falling down
again and again;
refusing to give up, surrender
less painful though that might be.

And poetry could even be your hand over my mouth,
because you know that I can never really say
what I am trying so hard to say;
as there's another form of secret communication
connects soul directly to soul,
without confusing or complicated words.

And that is some of the invisible poetry,
lives in the eyes, the hands; the heart of the mind;
and all the hidden, inner recesses of a human being; and even though
something may be a form of poetry for one; it may not be for another.

Finally, if you balled up the emotions together, and then just threw them up
into the open air, not knowing where they might come down, or even if;
this too, could be one of the purest forms of poetry.

My words could go on flowing forever, like a stream, and that could be poetry;
or they might stop without warning and

poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Definition of Poetry by a 15 yr old

Poetry does not need a meaning or defintion.
Poetry is how the reader reads it,
Poetry is how the poet writes it.
Poetry is real,
Poetry is fake,
Poetry is everything,
Poetry is fate.
Poetry is rythm.
Poetry can ryme.
Poetry is anything, I make it mine.

poem by Eric Graham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry in me

There is poetry in me as a nail hammered in a wood,
My wheel of poetry keeps on willing to rhyme in the hood,
To me poetry has became precious, sacred and cool,
Poetry must be the general talk and walk in every neighborhood,
To me poetry is the way of life; I connect through poetry,
I speak poetry for a reason in any season in any occasion,
For people to take decisions in their missions to make their
Visions spray in between the frame to make dreams vividly.
My poetry is a gasping wind beating blowing in human desires.
I blow away the spirit of self-pity to self-esteem.
When thrown to the crowd I blow with poetry to make hard stone attitude
To calm anger, tempestuous storm to be calmed and soul dry rivers to flow,
The massager in me never favor denial but emotion expression,
This passion in me is a seed for generations to come up to existence.

poem by Phinda Mkhonta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Love For Poetry

You can take the smile from me
And leave me alone to frown
You can walk away and forget
But you'll never bring this down
My Love For Poetry
Throw those shadows as you do
And tell me there's more to life
You see you will never know
The true love I know is right
My Love For Poetry
There is no greater love you see
It speaks for me from inside
You can shake your head and go
Because this love will never die
My Love For Poetry
Yes the greatest love of all
Is the words I can express
You can't take that from me
No matter in life or in death
My Love For Poetry

poem by Suelynn Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cemetery Gates

A dreaded sunny day
so I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day
so I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
while Wilde is on mine
So we go inside and we gravely read the stones
all those people all those lives
where are they now ?
with loves, and hates
and passions just like mine
they were born
and then they lived and then they died
which seems so unfair
and I wantr to crv
You say: "ere thrice the sun hath done salutation to the dawn"
and you claim these words as your own
but Im well-read, have heard them said
a hundred times (maybe less, maybe more)
if you must write prose/poems
the words you use should be your own
dont plagiarise or take "on loans"
there's alweays someone, somewhere
with a big nose, who knows
and who trips you up and laughs
when you fall
You say: "ere long done do does did "
words which could only be your own
you then produce the text
from whence was ripped
(some dizzy whore, 1804)
A dreaded sunny day
so let's go where we're happy
so I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day
so let's go where we're wanted
so I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
but you lose
because Wilde is on mine

song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cemetry Gates

A dreaded sunny day
I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day
So i meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and yeats are on your side
While wilde is on mine
So we go inside and we gravely read the stones
All those people all those lives
Where are they now ?
With loves, with hates
With passions just like mine
They were born
And then they lived
And then they died
It seems so unfair
Oh, i want to cry
You say : "'ere thrice the sun done salutation to the dawn"
And you claim these words as your own
But i've read well, and i've heard them said
A hundred times (maybe less, maybe more)
If you must write prose and poems
The word you use should be your own
Don't plagiarise or take "on loan"
There's always someone, somewhere
With a big nose, who knows
And trips you up and laughs
When you fall
Who'll trip you up and laugh
When you fall
You say : "long done do does did"
Words which could only be your own
And then produce the text
From whence was ripped
(some dizzy whore, 1804)
A dreaded sunny day
So let's go where we're happy
And i meet you at the cemetry gates
Oh, keats and yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day
So let's go where we're wanted
And i meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and yeats are on your side
But you lose
'cause weird lover wilde is on mine
Sure !

song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Shame

See me, I have no shame
Poetry's a losing game
Tongue in cheek, but it's all the same
Poetry's a caring game

My memory could be amazed
Yet it's been erased
I have nothing planned
My Brain could use a hand

Lines cannot be found
Please look all around
I'll get a helping hand
This Poem's a futile stand

Have I lost my mind?
Poetry I'm sure you'll find
Sometimes, can be unkind
By those who are unsigned

Just ignore the sods
Let them pray to their gods
You know I have no shame
Poetry's a funny game.

poem by Gordon David
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !

Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !
Why are we addicted to Poetry?
We Poets who write,
All day or all night,
That Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !

There’s scarce a moment in time,
That thoughts don’t find words in rhyme,
To put into verse,
Whether better or worse,
In that Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !

Why do we write all these Verses?
We must have better things to do,
But whatever we try,
And I don’t know why,
We write Poem upon Poem for you.

It’s funny how my style has changed,
It’s a Limerick today I’ve composed,
It wasn’t meant to be,
But it is ~ you can see,
Just Poetry! ! Poetry! ! Poetry! !

© Yisroel Yonatan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 26 January 2006

poem by Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is Another Poetry

THERE IS ANOTHER POETRY

There is another Poetry-
A poetry of inspiration
A poetry of help
A poetry of encouragement
A poetry of courage and heart
A poetry of love of life
Which teaches greater love of life.

There is another poetry
A poetry I would write
But the poetry I largely live in
Is complaint and question and fear and doubt
And trouble and sadness-
Oh why can’t I give some greater goodness to others
Than I am myself in my soul?

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry

Poetry.......
Poetry defines me

Poetry.......
A place where you be you and I'll be me.

Poetry.......
We are best friends for eternity.

My Poetry.......
Is the daughter of my emotion,
There I've said it, no need to interpret the connection.

Poetry.......
Where my pen and paper are sealed with a kiss,
So easy to write for my mind is a bliss.

Poetry.......
Poetry has multiple meanings,
An indescribable feeling when I realize others understand them.

My Poetry.......
It just comes natural to me.

My Poetry.......
Is out there, , , , , away from exile,
And style of writing is very versatile.

Poetry.......Poetry.......
P oetry.......
It speaks out to me.

poem by Anita Khelawan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I walk alone.......

When I walk alone, I think of you my love
When I walk alone, I walk with broken heart
When I walk alone, I walk with sadness
When I walk alone, I walk with my silent tears
When I walk alone, I walk with my sorrow
When I walk alone, I walk with my sad memories
When I walk alone, I walk with my shattered dream
When I walk alone, I walk with my hands lifeless
Love never walk alone but you made me walk alone
You promised me that you will walk with me forever
but you made me walk alone with my tears forever
When the heaven stolen you from me yesterday
All your promises are gone with the wind
Today, You made me walk alone with out you my love
and I promise you, I will walk alone till my journey ends

poem by Ravi Sathasivam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Poetry... All The Time

All Poetry … All The Time
I Love To Read In Rhythm & Rhyme
I Love To Write Of Wistful Wishes
And Lips Speak Of Love Like Bold Kisses

All Poetry … All The Time
Poetry, Is A Medication For My Mind
Poetry, Has A Power To Overthrow Pain
Poetry, Should Be Spoken, Again and Again

All Poetry … All The Time
I Am Really Thrilled To Find
More Poet Lovers, and Their Word Artistry
All The Time … All Poetry

All Poetry … All The Time
May Each Poetic Puff, Rise & Climb
Into The Clouds, Up To The Stars
(Or Maybe Just Linger, Where You Are) …

All Poetry … For All Of Time

Written & ©: 5/24/10

By: MoonBee

poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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