My Two Loves

My passion is shared by my poetry and by you
And for each, it's growing ever stronger
That I'm in love with you both is undeniably true
And I'll love you forever, and even longer

With my poetry you'll never have to compete
Or ever have a reason to be jealous
My poetry is inspired by your love so sweet
But sometimes I get a bit overzealous

You and I share a love as a woman and a man
Satisfying each other's deepest desires
You make me feel like poetry never can
Our love ignites passion's fires

But the way I feel when a poem's taking shape
Is like nothing I've ever felt before
My creativity at last, has found an escape
Cascading over me like waves on the shore

Of my two loves, you are first in my heart
and I promise you always will be
Because of you, my poetry got it's start
Now you both are the best part of me

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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!

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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...

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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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18 Definitions Of Poetry

1) Poetry is what is Beautiful in words –
2) Poetry is the deepest feeling words can tell
3) Poetry is the soul of each one of us
4) Poetry is the morning light after the longest night
5) Poetry is a dream of dreams in a world that needs dreams to be
beautiful
6) Poetry is the Search for God and the Love of God in all holy writing
7) Poetry is Reality itself when it is doing what it should
8) Poetry is you and me and all of us when we are kind to each other
9) Poetry is more than we can say or know- deeper than the deepest
silence and quieter also
10) Poetry is the place we go to in ourselves when we need to cry out loud
11) Poetry is Love words of love and the first spring of the young lovers first
song
12) Poetry is all we are when our minds are right and strong
13) Poetry is what saves us from all the other words
14) Poetry is what ceases to exist when Cruelty comes
15) Poetry is Love and Blessing and Kindness again
16) Poetry cuts through the icy sea within and sends chills down the spine
17) Poetry is what is recollected in tranquility but also tried and tossed in
tempest on the most difficult seas
18) Poetry is open to more than what it has been It is what others have not yet created and will so long as we are human and in search of the Sublime

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On Poetry

1
poetry can be
like a sky filled with wrangling clouds
or as a sky without a wisp

2
in poetry there are no
clichés in thought and phrase;
and what is left there is
the resplendent and the living

3
poetry leaves one
rich inside
and ordinary outside

4
the fool defines poetry
and poetry defies all definitions

5
poetry entertains, inspires;
poetry tickles, distracts, and shapes and frees -
but its true intent, no one knows

6
many lines, and countless lines
many pages, and thick volumes
don’t make poetry

7
if one had no coins
one cannot buy bread;
but not all the world’s wealth
can bring you poetry

8
Oh no!
Not another love poem!
Oh no!
Not another poem about oneself!

9
rhyme, technique and meter
and tricks of prosody
don’t make poetry: passion does

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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!

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Passion

A passion found, is a passion to keep
A passion felt, is a passion to be kept
Poetry from the heart, poetry from the soul,
Poetry I have always felt,
There are many passions in
this world but none like this one, which you can
always return too when you feel lost or
feel you have something to say
I love thee yet, I love thee more
but with words I can express thee hence more
Sometimes life feels too complex to find the one with the same passion as you share,
Someone that understands you for you, not only the external you, but the inner you,
Someone that understands your thoughts and passions in life; pleasure is one thing but
Once that desire for pleasure with that person has been diminished,
what is there, nothing, a desire gone and lost,
yet to say I yearn, and can't wait till I find the one that shares the same passion and desires as I do

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Songs Of Poetry

Poetry is the wave
drenching the sea-shore!
Sea-gull hovering overhead!
Poetry is lilack
Poetry is lily
Poetry is rose
Poetry is cherry!

Poetry tears down the cheek
liquidated in joy!
liquidated in grief!
Poetry consoles the soul!
As glass of sherry!

Poetry draws the out-line
....the cosmos forms!
Poetry paints the blue
....the sky performs!

Poetry waves the desire
...love sings along!
Poetry paves the way
....makes us strong!
Poetry dreams and cry
....erases wrong!

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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

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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?

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Poetry Unlimited

Poetry is looking,
at a flower and,
seeing the beauty
hidden within.

Poetry is bringing
out love, deep in
your heart, telling
your love one how you feel.

Poetry is feeling
a cool breeze
as you lie in an open
field, so deep in thought.

Poetry is seeing
the beauty of soft
fluffy white clouds
as no one else does.

Poetry is hearing
sounds of nature
soaking it all in
to mind and soul.

Poetry is watching and
standing by river's edge
seeing rippling water
flowing to places unknown.

Poetry is gazing at
rolling hills stretching
as far, as the eye
can see.

Poetry is digging
deep into inter feelings
bringing it out
and exposing it.

Poetry is love
Poetry is feelings
Poetry is seeing
Poetry is what you are.

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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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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.

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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.

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Poetic Embracement

Poetry - the mother of all emotion
Some call it mere ‘words in motion’
When I write, I love thee- Oh Poetry!
Thy branches deeper than the banyan tree
That’s why you are stronger than prose
Oh! Poetry! !

And as a poet I have all the freedom
And all the world’s verses in my kingdom
I can be fair or may be a little foul
I can see through the night like an owl
You can make night as day, your way
Oh! Poetry! Have your sway…

You have words stringed like beads
And a finger that pointedly needs
An applaud, a bow, a salutation
Sometimes a silent infatuation
You are the need of a man-to be free
That’s why you are –Poetry! !

If some one loves Thee, is it also me?
That sounds selfish but true you see!
For when I embraced you, Oh! Poetry -
An ‘embracement’ was ‘love’ I thought
But ‘embarrassment’ was what I got!
For she admired me, just for Thee! !
Oh! Poetry! !

So Wright is not wrong to send hugs to me
Or Petal isn’t having a fling with the sepals like me
A Rose no longer pokes on a prose so long
For today, just for you - ‘Poetry’ is on a song..
Let me be chainless today, let me be free
You are, what You are! My Poetry! !

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Just IS! (for Gina)

Because you are
the way you are

I love you

just the way
you is.

*******

JUST IS

Poetry is shadow
dancing with light.

Poetry is paper
longing to become voice.

Poetry is musical notation
turning into sound.

Poetry is a world
that is flat
becoming round.

Poetry is the longed for kiss
that’s going to happen
but hasn’t happened

just as yet.

Poetry is the kiss
you’d miss

if it wasn’t

there.


Poetry is falling in love
with sound and language

(you can’t have one without the other)

and being happily married
to its sixth sense

Poetry

Poetry

...just is.

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It Is A Habit

writing poems
when you really write poems
everyday and every moment of your life
even when you're in the middle of your
bread and butter eating thing
or even when you are defecating
writing poems becomes a habit
even when you sleep even when you dream
writing poems becomes a part of your system
you eat poetry you vomit poetry
you digest poetry you poo poetry
you breathe poetry you sweat poetry
you love poetry and you live with your poetry
and at the end you die with poetry

and your epitaph says: here lies the poet,
choked with poetry.

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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?

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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

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Poetry has done this to me

And I love the slavery of poetry
For reasons like your better
versification
Or for reasons you shall not
live to see
To me poetry is this huge magnificent
instrument
And poetry has kept me indoors all
day I missed you
And poetry has kept me in front of
this machine
And saved me maybe from the bullet
or the knife
And poetry has taken me to explore
the deepest
Unknown regions of my mind
Never was the search
Of the word so desperate and
pleasurable and so
Hurtful and so exciting and so painful
And poetry has alarmed me to how
cruel my mind is
And poetry has journeyed into my
inner self too to cleanse my soul
And poetry has gone out of her way
to show me
How kind and filled with honey my mind is
I have journeyed to far flung places
guided by
The love of poetry I know myself better now

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