Dress Me Like Poetry
Dress me like poetry in silk stanza stockings,
in pearls of metered verse on a syllabic strand.
Brush rhythm through my hair and rhyme on my lashes,
and paint me in tones of syntax and sonnet sand.
Dangle diction diamonds to adorn my face,
like cascading charms of sweet metaphoric prose.
Give me blue ballad bonnet alliteration
and assonant slippers with repetitious bows.
With sestina skirt and connotation corset,
I am the allusion and the symbol of love.
I am the onomatopoeia twilight song,
the euphonious moonlight that shimmers above.
So dress me like poetry, in pleasant pantoum
or in the cacophony of a villanelle,
in the ode of hyperbole or anapest,
in romantic Terza Rima or Terzanelle.
Dress me like poetry with the breath of your kiss,
and let your precious flower blossom in the night.
Then, move mountains for this moment and disrobe me.
My petals stroked by the gentle hands of moonlight.
poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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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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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
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The beauty of poetry
I am a woman painted by poetry
the picture captured between night and day
between a dropp and dropp of rain
a blow and blow of wind
a beam and beam of sun
the paint created by imagination of poetry
I use wind for seducing you
I use rain for wetting you
I use sunshine for warming your heart
I am poetry the woman like wind rain and sun
the picture captured between unreality and dream
I am fantasy I don't exist in this world
my home is the beauty of poetry
I am the beauty of poetry
the night wove for me the dress of moonlight
the flowers made for me the crown
happiness and sadness make up my face
my eyes glitter by tears
my lips gloss by smile
my heart lights the candles for strangers
who come to warm their hearts
by the beauty of poetry
poem by Ata Augustyn
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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Prose-Poetry
Once prose and poetry existed side by side
Two styles of literature, each with its bound
Jealously guarded by the literati
Lest prose masquerades as poetry.
The First World War smashed all fetters,
Soldiers wrote heart-rending poetic letters
To sweethearts, friends, fathers and mothers.
Newspapers published their anguish and horrors
The literati classed them as prose
And turned up their nose
At such a new trend of mongrelised poetry;
But the public gave it name and identity
Prose-poetry began to gain respectability.
Prose-poetry is a contradiction in terms,
An oxymoron; a paradox of many forms.
When well written, words flow as though in rhyme
Thought and syntax together dance with rhythm.
Some pen few lines haphazardly,
String words together arbitrarily,
Flit between thoughts randomly,
Structure their poems casually.
They want us to see them as thinkers
In fact, they are just wearing blinkers.
If only they could see their folly
They’d stop abusing prose-poetry.
poem by Isam Hussain
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Amorous Interlude
A brown dress was far from romantic
Oh my! What must she do?
Tonight is the night
She meets her beloved
At their magical rendezvous.
The brown dress she changed
For a new gown of blue
And as they met in the moonlight
Hopes of love were born anew
Kisses were sweet at the rendezvous.
Brown dresses are far from romantic
But she knew just what to do...
One marvellous night,
She shone with delight
As amour lit up the whole rendezvous.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two schools of thought.
.
The lady chose to take offence
Although I said she wrote fine prose
She may not know the difference
between poetry and prose
She thought that she wrote poetry
But what she wrote was free form prose.
I offered no apology
It was not my fault that she chose.
Not to learn the basic rules
defining prose and poetry
Two very different writing schools
in which to show your artistry.
The so called experts can’t agree
and coined the term poetic prose.
Though writing cannot possible
be classed as poetry and prose.
If it’s not metered it is prose
no matter how poetical.
But you’re entitled to compose.
Fine prose and call it poetry.
Though I suggest respectfully
you should be proud of writing prose.
As some do most successfully.
But it was poetry I chose
Thursday,11 March 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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
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(V – 2010) To Risha Ahmed
(With Love, Admiration and Best Wishes)
Of Poetry, O Prodigy!
You pen with wit and sanity
Your vision shows maturity
Your diction forces clarity!
Of Poetry, O Prodigy!
Your rhythm rides melodiously
You rhyme with ease and quality
Your hallmark is spontaneity!
Of Poetry, O Prodigy!
Your poems voice vocal beauty
Your poems value buoyancy
Your poems come creatively!
Of Poetry, O Prodigy!
You need now learn no prosody
You embody true poetry
Your poetry is really free!
Of Poetry, O Prodigy!
Your rhymes & themes with time vary
You proceed but with modesty
Your future you can guarantee!
Of Poetry, O Prodigy!
Your age will grow your ability
Your heart will light your journey, see
Your writings light humanity!
Totally Biased
I do not often write free form
to me it is not poetry.
Freely admit my prejudice
I think it’s just a passing phase
Although I can appreciate
poetic and well written prose
This does not make it poetry
When I consult my dictionary
it makes it very clear to me.
All writing must be one of those
It can’t be both at he same time.
Prose poetry cannot exist
an obvious oxymoron
Though modern writer still insist
that what they write is poetry
.It may be really beautiful
and well presented on the page
but definitely not poetry.
Why can they not be satisfied
with their well written thoughts in prose.
Why do they call it poetry
a dandelions not a rose.
Its meter defines poetry
it doesn’t even need to rhyme.
Even free verse had its rules
but writers seem to think today
There are no rules anything goes.
I nail my colours to the mast
Not afraid to let my bias show.
31-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry In Motion
When my world is dark, I must only think of you
Your poetry in motion, in everything you do
Like the ocean waves caressing the sand
Fluid and sleek from head to toe
Your poetry in motion
Do you know
The way your eyes sparkle
Celestial
Divine
She’s poetry in motion
Angelic kind
The way the Sun shines thru your dress
Voluptuous hips
Full silhouette
Your poetry in motion
Aphrodite in flesh
poem by Joseph Caraveo
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Like Poetry in Motion
Like poetry in motion,
You glide through my thoughts-
Numb my body-
Ripple my mind-
Engross my heart-
Leaving footprints on my soul
Like poetry in motion
You have me guessing the next line
The next verse
The next stanza of this unity
Rippling my mind
Enthralling my heart
Leaving footprints on my soul
Like poetry in motion…
You move me.
Take me to heights…
Speak to me…
Show me what it is you want me to see
All the solace and tribulations
All that’s unjust and righteous
Like poetry in motion…
You move me.
A smile that never leaves me you’re is one I cherish
As words to a poet
Notes to a musician
Paint to a painter
Like poetry in motion…
Move me.
poem by Adam Rubenstein
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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
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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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Recipe Me
A thousand years of prose and verse,
A thousand more to settle down;
Diced and served mixed metaphors;
With metonymy and adnoun.
Catch the lovely imagery,
These stanzas are isochronous;
Let loose thy savagery;
Free verse from resulting succuss.
Attune meter and the rhyme,
Laugh off the hyperbole;
Move your hand and head in time;
Eat my words; swallow me whole.
Caress these couplet with thine eyes;
Follow the words that run-on line;
The enjambement is the prize;
Then revel in thy condign.
Dance with words in Petrarchan style;
Dress them in the right octave;
Mixed with rhythm and some guile,
Tercet I doth twice enslave.
Served with humor and litotes;
The elegy, lyric and epic.
Cavort around them as you please;
Though they may be monostich.
My poetry is quite concrete;
‘Tis marinated in prosody.
Even if they’re offbeat,
Recipe me for any malady!
08th May 2009
Copyright © SC
poem by Subroto Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Trials & Tribulations Of Poetry...
Melodrama..........has never been my cup of tea
'Less, the spotlight of center stage.....be on me
Cross pens are mightier...than a sterling sword
Still i'd rather a Bugatti...than a brand new Ford.
When sunsets catch my eye's......i'm so inclined
To paint a scape of words.....of twilights skyline
I'm just an imagist.....spinning picturebook tales
Some simpatico in weight......on prosaic scales
'Tis what i do, to keep my mind's eye free of rust
Never wrote Sestina.........6 of 6 is too much fuss
Yet true poetry is fuss about perfection, an' more
Requiring the will, and want to adhere, 'n explore
Many say poetry...is merely image and depiction
Yet this claim falls far short....of its pure definition
Beauty of the substance.......the sweet of the flow
That's what draws the line, 'tween poetry, 'n prose
One need not rhyme, true poetry's self-melodious
Lyrical in flounce 'n flux, and yes quite harmonious
Too many think themselves a''Poet''......so absurd
For so few have mastered the art of Written Word
Thats why prose today....is the substitute of poetry
With no restrictions.......your limits are virtually free
As for me, i am no Poet..............Nor shall i ever be
I'm just an imagist....content with my picture stories
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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Thousands of eyes
Poetry or prose is a writing.
In prose contents get focus
And in poetry, taste of words.
Prose sounding poetry is sweeter.
We see thousands of stars at night
And only one sun in a day - prose.
The night has thousands of eyes
And the day, only one in sky. - poetry
01.08.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Divine Force (terza Rima Sonnet)
Prayer is the answer to a troubled heart,
Challenges meant to be overcome and solved,
Faith in God is the best way to make a start.
Splendour of sunshine around- a ball of gold!
Winds-cool or stormy reach their destination,
Warm sun and wind, engulfing all in their fold.
Water, the elixir makes no distinction,
Energy giver-Fire, also smothers,
Trees do not produce fruits in isolation.
Associations-complex and a bother.
Get caught in the labyrinth, never be freed,
Life’s lessons-through experience can gather.
Getting rid of contempt, prejudice and greed
Accepting Divine Will engenders a new breed.
(The Italian form Diaspora or Terza Rima is a of indefinite length, made up of numbers of three-line stanzas or tercets. The sonnet ends with a couplet linking back to the first stanza. The rhyme scheme is such that line 2 of each stanza rhymes with lines 1 and 3 of the following stanza, creating an interlocking pattern. In the final stanza, both lines rhyme with line 2 of the preceding tercet. The Terza Rima sonnet has the following rhyme scheme, .a.b.a...b.c.b...c.d.c...d.e.d...e.e.)
Hema Ravi,13.08.09