This Poetry Is Love
Picking up flowers
And reading the stems
To find your poetry soul
Like angel prints
In childhood snow.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Poetry
This poetry is not poetry
This poetry is not poetry as poetry goes
But is as silent as a man in a rollo neck jumper
Almost reading yesterdays news
This poetry is not poetry
As far as poetry goes
It is neither verse
Or poesy prose
This is a debunking of 'The poetry'
Everyone knows
And so they are not amused
This poetry is not poetry
So why poetry?
If not
Prose?
It is as idle as a man picking his nose
Pondering a wonderful muse
Yet some, are not amused
Infact if this poetry is Not poetry
What right have I to use, the word poetry?
It is a lovely panacea for expressing and de stressing
The individual's points of view
And yet if not poetry
Who says Not poetry
And who is qualified to choose?
Give me a pocket full of roses
Or a misty morning cloud
Are you amused?
clammy wynette aka Yvette m smith
march 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Childhood Is...
Childhood is hanging your pictures on the refrigerator, and tea parties you always have to cater.
Childhood is chasing butterflies and picking flowers,
playing with blocks and making towers.
Childhood is hating nap time,
and thinking everything is always MINE
Childhood is crayons and coloring books,
Playing hide and go seek in all the right nooks.
Childhood is falling asleep to your favorite lullaby,
wishing you had wings so you could soar into the sky.
Childhood is only crying over a scrapped knee,
or being stung by a bumble bee
Childhood is thinking boys have cooties,
or your mom making you wear itchy booties.
Childhood is ruining mommy's new leather,
and making friends and keeping them forever.
Childhood finally ends,
When you start to grow up,
And not having to drink out of a sippy cup
poem by Shenika Vermaak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drunk On Poetry
Poetry surges steadily
Through my veins
I grant it to stream through them
Day in and day out
Sleep and awake
I believe it's a healthy obsession
I get drunk on it
The more I inject in me
My mind thrives on poetry
My soul thrives on poetry
I become addicted
Sometimes I absorb too much poetry
Reading, writing and listening
I become drunk sometimes
Poetry spills from my pen
Inking a piece of paper
And unto another and another
Constantly on every thought
Humorous, emotionally, romantic, tragic
Experiencing in life
Opinionated, factual, abstract
Political, any subject that's on my thoughts
Sometimes I become drunk
The more i inject into me
Poetry I live for
Eat, drink, sleep
Racing through my spirit
Poetry, poetry, poetry
I loose myself sometimes
When I digest too much
Poems that I write
I write for me
I share them with the world
I can't resist this urge
Poetry is what I crave
It happens to be my mistress
I become drunk
The more I inject
My mind thrives on poetry
My soul thrives on poetry
I become so addicted
Breathing in too much poetry
Reading, writing, listening
I'm drunk sometimes
Poetry I write
Write from experience
What I've done
What I've heard
What I've seen
What I've felt
What I've known
Poetry I live for
Eating, drinking, sleeping
Racing through my spirit
Poetry, poetry, poetry
On my thoughts poetry
Loosing myself sometimes
When I inject enough
This is what I've become
A drunken poet
poem by R.K. Cowles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry Is
Poetry is when she wakes up with a smile on her angel face and says thank you for watching over my breathe all night, its when I hold her and she says I miss missing you even when I’m right there next to her.
Her EYES are the mother of poetry, one of a kind, her SMILE is the goddess of poetry, rare and beautiful, her VOICE is the heaven of poetry, so sweet and gentle.
When she loves me she does so with all the poetry she has inside her, , , everything about her is poetry, her poetry speaks to me without saying anything, it touches me without holding me, it makes me feel even without her near me
SHE IS POETRY IN MY SOUL, IN MY MIND, IN MY HEART.
poem by Tendai Maturure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tiny Angel
golden hair, tiny curls
blue eyes, sparkle
tiny angel laughing
chasing butterflies in the garden
sunshine and shadows
picking flowers, making chains
tiny angel halo
curled up on my lap
sandman coming soon
dreams await you
sleeping angel
sweet smiles, soft kisses
giggles that melt my heart
happy angel
i see your wings
don't fly away
i need you here with me
tiny angel
gone too soon
i miss you
poem by Shadow Princess
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Shell
"...It seems in truth the fairest shell of ocean." —Shelley
I.
What is it makes thy sound unto my ear
So mournful, Angel of the mighty Sea?
Is it the soul of her who once was here,
Speaking affection, through thy lips, to me?
II.
Oh! from my childhood this has been to me
A mystery which no one could solve!—It sounds
And sorrows for the Sea incessantly—
Telling the grief with which my soul abounds!
III.
Here, in its labyrinthine curve, it leaves
The foot-prints of its song in many dyes;
And here, incessantly, it ever weaves
The rainbow-tissue of its melodies.
IV.
When any harsher sound disturbs me here,
In my lamentings in this world for the,
I will apply it to my listening ear,
And think it is thy soul come down to me.
poem by Thomas Holley Chivers from Eonchs of Ruby (1851)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Snow Angel
Pure crystalline waves,
Your chill reminds me of carefree youth.
Lay with me in the vast expanse,
My snow angel.
Frosted breath surrounds my lips,
...Sharp tingles somewhere between pleasure and pain,
Exhilaration at childish games.
My snow angel.
Time is meaningless,
Aching chest heaving.
I am ageless,
My snow angel.
Running, falling, laying back,
Limbs askew.
Spirits soaring,
My snow angel.
O but to bottle this moment in time,
Never let it go.
Hold on tight,
My snow angel.
When I am done,
The frosted breath gone from my lips,
Will you still remain,
My snow angel?
poem by Patti Wilburn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Run And Dance And Play
'The mission of poetry is to create among people
the possibility of wonder, admiration, mystery,
the sense that life is marvelous...
To make life a marvel-that is the role of poetry.'
- OCTAVIO PAZ
she finally admits that she likes octavio
but she does not understand him, and i quip
that if that is the case, you must stop reading him, he is killing you
and your initial desire to be in love with poetry
isn't it that the mission of poetry is to create this marvel?
this admiration? this feeling that life is marvelous?
that there is still this wonderful feeling left inside us
despite the odds?
if octavio makes you wonder about more wonders
continue reading the magnificence of his lines
marvel, marvel, marvel
but if he does not achieve that purpose in you
try reading back those nursery rhymes
those that make you feel better and make you
go back to the niceties of your childhood
run and play and dance and sing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Angel
One angel, its wings spread out
colliding with the speed of sound,
One angel, that shone brighter
than the moon cratered by eternal night,
One angel, with beauty that made all the,
flowers shed there pedals out of jealously,
One angel, it's hands soft and warming
like the embrace of the suns nova ray's,
One angel, it's voice echo's through your mind
hitting every sense of safety into bloom,
One angel, with eyes that ate out
the vision of anything else but them in your sight,
One angel, it's touch like that of a dimming
candle penetrating your skin with warmth and delight,
One angel, that breathes everything
into you so you can stay alive,
One angel, that holds onto your soul
in the treasure box called her own,
One angel, is all you need
to have a eternal paradise in your soul,
One angel, you only see once in life,
One angel, that's yours to own,
One angel, made for the souls needed to be sown
poem by Daniel Filippov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O Angel...
O Angel,
In the time of love,
Life is a silent prayer
All silent prayers!
Don't know how to describe you!
You:
The soul of innocence
Or innocence of the soul,
The soul of pain
Or pain of the soul,
The soul of loneliness
Or loneliness of the soul,
The soul of poetry
Or the poetry of the soul.......
Or
The soul of all souls
Wild with love at heart?
Who are you?
Days of love are
The days of pain never ending,
Days of pleasure immense!
Yes, the are the days of purge!
Like a wildfire, your words
Torment my soul...
Like a gentle caress,
Helps me resurrect like Phoenix...
Like a butterfly,
I flutter to kiss
All your dream-flowers
To enjoy all the hidden metaphors.....
A creative heart
Likes to be naked
And tormented always!
I know that
You are weaving wings for...................
poem by Premji Premji
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The older I've got the less I find myself going back and re-reading or really reading new fiction or poetry.
quote by Reynolds Price
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When all elapse and I grow old [Când toate trec şi-mbătrânesc]
O! poetry, when in the world all things elapse and I grow old,
When I am not that pretty boy who had in him a blameless heart,
When childhood days are like a wreath whose withered flowers fell apart,
You're still in me, deep in a fold,
O! Poetry,
And are the same: with fresh young years crown with much art;
You're still a rover among stars and from up there you slowly start
Among the people to come down to stir again your age of gold,
O! Poetry,
And all can see that only you are never old.
poem by Alexandru Macedonski, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Altered Perception
My drug of choice is poetry.
I need no chemicals to fly.
Imagination is the key
which leads me into fantasy.
I have no need to break the laws
because I choose a different course.
I can get high on poetry.
A pleasure that’s completely free.
Why use adulterated drugs
and join the ranks of ripped off mugs.
Why should you spend your hard earned brass?
on coke or horse or even grass.
When all you need is poetry
to set your restless spirit free.
Rise to the sky on wings of words
and emulate the flight of birds.
Who recognise no boundaries
they’re free to fly just where they please.
I can alter my state of mind
by reading poetry I find
From all my worries find release
and for a little time find peace
and oftentimes sheer ecstasy
Anaesthetised by poetry.
21-Jan-07
poem by Ivor .e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Caressing Angel
Caressing Angel
By: Adam M. Snow
Caress the name of your angel that fallen,
It flows the wind, a ragweed pollen.
Only you can hear it's torment calling;
Open thy ears to it's ever falling song.
A melody which poison thy voice and heart.
Only to tear thy soul apart.
Listen to your siren song,
Awaken your soul to which it belongs.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cut Flowers
If you love me - please never bring me cut flowers
Because I know that they will die soon after a few hours
I would feel that whatever the flowers represent
Would be equal to the time we have left to spend
Straight stems, soft petals and a lush green leaf
The hours and minutes are numbered - you better believe
Picking a flower is like a sure sentence to death
Like taking a fish out of water watching his last breath
Cut down their life brutally shortened with a sharp knife
All hope diminished knowing that they will not survive
Sure the flowers may get nourishment from the water in the vase
But their life is over as they know it in just a few days
So do not buy any cut flowers for me pretty please
I rather watch them outside visited by many bees
It is so beautiful to see them sway softly outside
And so sad to see them slowly die and lose their pride
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Den Of Poetry!
Many poets I see on line today!
For fun many are indulging in poetry;
Not only amusement but also truth
Best ones produce in their poems!
Where can we find quality poetry
In the world poetry website as this one?
All are mixed with each other so much
That it is impossible to separate them!
All funny poems have to be skipped
For reading the really worthy ones!
To do so precious time is wasted
Everyday browsing on this website!
Finding the poetry true is finding treasure
In the depths of this deep poetry den!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Another One Of Those Poem Thingies...
Well as you can tell,
This is just another one of those poem thingies.
But I ask you,
'What is poetry? I mean,
Do people just write words in wierd orders.'
Well, poetry is an expression,
An opinion, well I guess it could be,
Anything,
From a very 'sensitive' piece of writing
To an essay that you wrote three years ago.
The definition that you find in a dictionary
Has nothing to do with poetry.
It is just a summary,
No an assumsion of what those fools writing the dictionaries
Think it is.
Poetry is whatever you want it to be.
So next time some person who thinks that they're too cool,
And that your so stupid because you like poetry,
Weather it's writing it or just reading it,
Tell them that they write it too,
Weather or not they consider it to be poetry,
It's their opinion and anything,
Can be poetry.
I have a love for poetry,
That can not be described.
I know,
That sounds obsesive.
But I really do love poetry.
I feel like I can say anything and,
It doesn't have to be serious,
I mean it can,
But it is not required.
Nothing is required of you when you write poetry.
It is relaxing,
A chance to step aside from life,
Even if it's just for a few minutes.
I do it for my own enjoyment an relaxation.
Why do you?
poem by Maddy Macleod
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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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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Song Of The Evergreens
Listen to the briskly whistling winter evergreen
Whispering through the frozen morning light
And tell me whats to come
Saying my time is near
Never fear
I close each year
Im winter
Reminding me to trade my t-shirts for my woven wools
Trade my sandals for my skis
Whispered warnings in the wind
Saying soon come the dancing snowflakes
Theyre kissing every tree
Theyre kissing you and me
Please hurry
Falling
Dazzling dancing diamonds from the sky
Prisms
Rainbow sparkled flurries in our eyes
Whipping across the frozen crystal meadow
Pond of ice
Race the snow
Well build a warming fire there
And cuddle close and wine and dine
The setting sun
The morning light will find us high
Shooting down the glistening mountain side
Screaming through the whispering pines
The freedom of each day
Will cleanse our minds
I can hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
I can hardly hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
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Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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