I felt traditions were fading away
I felt traditions were fading away
Today, it is all about
Fast, easy, and gaudy
It destroy customs
It was time to give something back
To ensure the transmission
Of ancient art form
Was handed down
By the old Masters
In its integral form
To be recited at it's best
Royal poetry has always been a mystery
What do the royals read?
No one really knows
Royal poems relate
To their individual art
Culture, and ceremonies
It is formed differently
And recited distinctively
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
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Related quotes
On Hearing One Reciting Verses Of Callanan
He recited Gougane Barra and the outlaw of Lough Lene
And my thoughts went back the long gone years to my school going days again
When our teacher recited those verses to us from the pen of a Cork born bardic man
The one whose bones rest in distant Portugal Jeremiah Joseph Callanan.
The poems of J J Callanan will live forever more
And are recited far distant from green old Erin's shore
A true poet of the people though he died poor and young
And he was one of genius and his songs are still sung.
The poet and hedge school teacher his poems known far and wide
And greatness is a thing of him that can never be denied
He recited his verses in village and in town
And even in his too brief life Callanan knew renown.
He recited Gougane Barra and it took me far away
To the school house room in Millstreet happy memories with us stay
When our teacher recited the poems of Callanan 'he was showing his years in gray'
Back in the nineteen fifties and that's going back many a day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sonnets are guys writing in English, imitating an Italian song form. It was a form definitely sung as often as it was recited.
quote by Steve Earle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Letter To All
Today I had a rude awakening
Today I went out to dinner with my boy and wife
One of Alice’s songs began to play in the restaurant
One of them said “Isn’t that your girlfriend singing”
Both my boy and my wife began to laugh out loud
I felt as if I were the butt of some cruel joke
I began to think that I should give up my love of poetry
So I will give everyone my reason for no punctuation
I don’t want my poems to be restrained I want them to be free
And everyone may read it differently each time they read it
Maybe if my poetry receives recognition one day I may return
That is if my family learns that I am a fairly decent poet
And they tell me that I can continue to write poetry
I will miss you Alice more than anything I am sad
To say that it is with a heavy heart I must bid you all adieu
You all Happy Holidays peace
poem by Edwin Tanguma
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Pride and Honor
The pride and honor is always supreme
Whether it is nation, individual or team
It will be razed to ground the moment you have arrogance
It must be realized and borne in mind at once
So many kingdoms perished just for one reason
They were headed by headstrong and ambitious persons
What did they want for whole world in return?
Blood bath, killings, molestation in turn
Did Napoleon, Sikandar the Greet any recognition?
Only known for their powerful drive with ambition
What did it carry with their mind and impression?
World can’t be won over by simple invasion
Individual is not known by his ancestral identity
It is simple logic and must be felt with pity
How can you claim your present glory to past
As world is moving toward destiny very fast
The blood of mine was the royal blood...
Toughest to win was that royal blood...
Heavens salute to that royal blood...
Proud to have that royal blood...
But it killed many
Don’t you think royal blood is funny?
At what cost and what benefit?
How did it try for freedom to light?
No violence can protect
Only you must speak with noble act
Nothing can be termed as royal
If you fail to act as loyal
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Edward Harrington
With the best writers of his era Edward Harrington did rate
The farmer's son from Shepparton was a poetic great
He wrote the stirring ballads that poetry lovers love to recite
A poem of his recited at many a poetry night.
As a young man Edward Harrington went off to fight in war
And through the remainder of his life he carried the mental scar
Of his terrible experiences in Palestine far away
And the mental scar remained with him until his dying day.
His great ballads of the Australian bush rangers Dan Morgan and the Kelly gang are sung
By ballad singers who heard them when they themselves were young,
Australia's most notorious in verse he glorified
The men who hid from the law in the rugged country side.
He was one of Australia's last famous men of rhyme
The poems of Edward Harrington have withstood the test of time
And those who knew the great poet said he was sensitive and shy
And fame and adulation he did not seem to enjoy.
In 1965 in his seventieth year Edward Harrington passed away
But his poems are still recited and his songs are sung today
The farmer's son from Shepparton a prince of poetry
One of Australia's finest and few as great as he.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Royal Family
Royal parents,
Royal birth,
Royal relationship,
Royal love,
Royal wedding,
Royal pregnancy,
Royal child,
Royal family;
Roya, loyal! !
The lineage,
The history,
The heritage;
Nancy, pregnancy!
Line, lineage;
And, you still have her in your heart.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Gift from almighty
No one can define actual poetry
It is simple gift from almighty
No one can claim high on it
Not everybody can excel or fit
It can be felt at any point of time
You may be feeling very uneasy sometimes
The grief and pain evaporates in the form of words
The only way open for us is to forget and look forward
It is said pain may be felt less
If you reveal it to some other face
Sometimes it is fool’s paradise
Whole life is spent on false promises
The words can express what is going on in mind
Its melody and depth can be felt even by the blind
It needs no insight or long vision
It is easy and effective transmission
Some of individuals resort to poetry while facing grief
Their attachment to such passion is very brief
They will go back to original mood once it is over
They want only part time refuge or cover
Poetry in fact is worship to almighty
It is in different form and variety
Hymns can be chanted and songs composed
Broken hearts are brought together and faith reposed
This all can be done with the purity of soul
You will never go wrong or commit foul
You are on right track and can take credit
Your creation is original and need not be put to edit
Not all can strive for or become poet
One must be very serious, honest and quiet
It is to be explored for common good
The songs and verses should be properly understood
It is service to the mankind in large scale
Every where we may find the unhappiness and pain
The poems can inject new waves of enthusiasm
At least it can turn into optimism from pessimism
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A Small Need...
Let me write some poems
Let me be a poet.
Give me a pen,
Give me a paper,
And give me a few thoughts.
Let the world know me a lot
Let me be a clot.
Give my poems a rhyme
Give them a rhythum too.
And give me a name.
Let my poems be recited by all
Let my lines be quoted by the world.
Give me your fingers
Give me your mind as well.
Let me too be a poet.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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That Book Of Poetry....
there is no need
to pay
a semester of poetry
from any
teacher of poetry
who teaches whom?
can poetry be taught?
can poetry have
a dictated form?
no one teaches whom
and it cannot be taught
neither can it have a form
for poetry is here
deep in the heart of man
embedded in the mind
felt and then
whether you like it or not
becomes written
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Part of what we love about poetry is the fact that it seems ancient, that it has an authority of ancient language and ancient form, and that it's timeless, that it reaches back.
quote by Robert Morgan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Royal Bengal Tiger
Royal bengal tiger!
When swim to pass across river
Target is determined.
Just straight forward move on
To reach that place has set out.
Ever if waves move little
Back to the beginning point.
Straight a must
No left no right
Upright - just.
Royal bengal do not know,
jostle and joggle
He knows-
Hazardous jolt,
Frightening thunderbolt!
Eyes are radiant with glory
Trustworthy.
Richer colour for
Amazing stripes
Created ancient myth and folklore
Royal bengal tiger never agree with
Mischievous counsel of jackals.
(The national animal of Bangladesh is Royal Bengal Tiger)
2/2/2008
poem by Sarwar Chowdhury
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I Write Poetry
I write not poetry for the poor
for tears from their swelled up eyes
smudge and erase my words,
I write poetry not for the rich
for the splotches from their fat and cheese
hide my lines of wise,
I write poetry for not men to read
for in their skirmishes, poems are trashes
like beans spilled in pond full of slush,
I write poetry for the men not to read
for poems are little words, little music
little cry that the men cant touch or destroy,
poem by Saranyan Bee
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I love chapbooks. They're in some ways the ideal form in which to publish and read poems. You can read 19 poems in a way you can't sit down and read 60 to 70 pages of poems.
quote by Robert Morgan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O My Pa-pa
Our fathers have formed a poetry workshop.
They sit in a circle of disappointment over our fastballs
and wives. We thought they didn't read our stuff,
whole anthologies of poems that begin, My father never,
or those that end, and he was silent as a carp,
or those with middles which, if you think
of the right side as a sketch, look like a paunch
of beer and worry, but secretly, with flashlights
in the woods, they've read every word and noticed
that our nine happy poems have balloons and sex
and giraffes inside, but not one dad waving hello
from the top of a hill at dusk. Theirs
is the revenge school of poetry, with titles like
'My Yellow Sheet Lad' and 'Given Your Mother's Taste
for Vodka, I'm Pretty Sure You're Not Mine.'
They're not trying to make the poems better
so much as sharper or louder, more like a fishhook
or electrocution, as a group
they overcome their individual senilities,
their complete distaste for language, how cloying
it is, how like tears it can be, and remember
every mention of their long hours at the office
or how tired they were when they came home,
when they were dragged through the door
by their shadows. I don't know why it's so hard
to write a simple and kind poem to my father, who worked,
not like a dog, dogs sleep most of the day in a ball
of wanting to chase something, but like a man, a man
with seven kids and a house to feed, whose absence
was his presence, his present, the Cheerios,
the PF Flyers, who taught me things about trees,
that they're the most intricate version of standing up,
who built a grandfather clock with me so I would know
that time is a constructed thing, a passing, ticking fancy.
A bomb. A bomb that'll go off soon for him, for me,
and I notice in our fathers' poems a reciprocal dwelling
on absence, that they wonder why we disappeared
as soon as we got our licenses, why we wanted
the rocket cars, as if running away from them
to kiss girls who looked like mirrors of our mothers
wasn't fast enough, and it turns out they did
start to say something, to form the words hey
or stay, but we'd turned into a door full of sun,
into the burning leave, and were gone
before it came to them that it was all right
to shout, that they should have knocked us down
with a hand on our shoulders, that they too are mystified
by the distance men need in their love.
You Never Know
You never know
Some folks think the world just moves too slow
But was it you
Told me I'm your everything you
[Chorus]
Hit me like I never felt before
(Hit me like I never felt before)
Hit me like a sucker punch
Running to the car and now you're
Hit me like I never felt before
Stealing for the last time
You never take
A promise from a man who sheds his skin
Had to wait
Formed my aching heart to break it
[Chorus]
Now everyone gets angry
And I feel it when you're holding me
In the right place
At the right time
To the right degree
It's greater than for the great I found
For dealing with your own ??scene??
You know that it ain't easy
(That ain't easy)
(That ain't easy)
(that ain't easy)
Hit me like I never felt before
(Hit me like I never felt before)
Hit me like I never felt before
(Hit me like I never felt before)
I'm stealing for the last time
song performed by by Goo Goo Dolls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Read Today A Hundred Poems
I read today a hundred poems
And cannot find
A single one that moved me -
Perhaps it is not the poems
But my poetic soul
that has no life -
I remember a poem
I read yesterday by Neruda
How beautiful how deep
How filled with passion and longing-
How rich in surprise-
I marvel at the greatness
Of his Poetry of Love-
There is Poetry
One only has to read a true poet
To find it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Also, since art is a vehicle for the transmission of ideas through form, the reproduction of the form only reinforces the concept. It is the idea that is being reproduced. Anyone who understands the work of art owns it. We all own the Mona Lisa.
quote by Sol LeWitt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Professional Poet
and of course it was wrong
to label him as that – in just that tone of voice;
a touch of envy there, no doubt
implying a comfortable life,
a smart careerist, older poets youthfully
cultivated, poems in the right magazines,
editors gently kept in touch with;
keeping on the right side of his peers,
'interesting' reviews of their poetry skilfully woven,
professional favours quietly exchanged;
academic posts gracefully filled, and
moved on from; leaving grateful ex-students
recommended for the vacancy;
and an acquired ability
to write just enough, but not less;
so it should be rather, a lifelong devotee of poetry,
and when he started to read to us I felt mean
for assuming him to be some artificial thing
a professional poet;
I wanted to inhabit his poetry, the
house of his poetry; but some doors
to rooms were open, some were shut;
would I give the time to find and love the key?
He read his own poems
as if they were step-children –
proud to show them off, and yet, not really his;
the audience, taken aback by this,
hesitated to applaud.
But when he read the poems of others,
he read them as though they were miracles
to stun and to admire, yet he was, we were, barely worthy of;
dropping as fine mercy, as the gentle dew of heaven; he read like
an amateur would read the great, in awe; as -
a lifelong devotee of poetry. He shone.
In each of us, a poet was born and lived.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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If you look at the British royal family and take away the scandals and the goofy stuff that's going on, people love to have this king to look up to - the royals are like celebrities.
quote by Kevin J. Anderson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Genius Born To Break Rules
slant rhyme corrected
poetry teacher corrections
stuck in muddy rules
the great and genius
are born to break rules
mainstream adhered
seasoned esteemed
recognized poetry teacher
had taught his poetry
classes for decades
basking in certainty
of set academic rules
inferior gerund form
not to be maturity used
in verse perfect line
please do not
embarrass him
do not mention
masterful classical poem
'The Rhyme Of The Ancient Mariner'
one of the greatest poems
ever written
penned to paper
dramatic verse
immediacy of active
masterful gerund form
infuses genius verse
poem by Terence George Craddock
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