On The Goddess Of Poesy

The Goddess of Poesy the Goddess of Song
To the Universal immortals she surely belong
The poets of the World her praises do sing
The gift of poetry to their souls she does bring.

The poets to write poems Goddess Poesy inspire
And of singing her praises they don't seem to tire
The poetry of sorrow the poetry of joy
The poetry of youth of the young girl and boy.

The poetry of youthfulness and of growing old
Of young women in their prime lovely to behold
The beauty of Nature the birds and the bees
The mammals and fishes of land and of seas.

The Goddess of poets of every gender race and creed
For their inspiration to write in her lives her they need
Of love, life and Nature she inspires poets to write
For the lovers of poetry to read and recite.

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The Woman Who Loves Poesy

She has a twenty years old daughter but she leads a single life
And she knows what it feels like to be a mother but not to be a wife
Her great love is Goddess Poesy only poesy she admire
And her creative source it comes from poesy and poesy in her verse inspire.

She writes such beautiful poetry as a poet she is well known
And as a genuine wordsmith her reputation it has grown
The woman who loves poesy is good at what she do
At least one can say of her to her own self she is true.

Since writing poetry can be a hungry belly game the well informed say
She works as a bar maid in the Golf Club Rooms for to earn her hard earned pay
But all of her spare time devoted to poesy since poetry she loves to write
Her poems on many different subjects are a source of delight

To poetry lovers who read her verses and many of her say
That from penning verse she will grow wealthy and become quite well known one day
But she does not write for fame or money she only writes because she
Happens for to be a person devoted to Goddess Poesy.

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The Deceased Poets Of Nature

Such beautiful poems to Nature they did write
The poetry we love for to read and recite
May they rest in peace now where-ever they lay
The deceased poets of Nature their poems live today

They glorified Nature and her praises they sung
And though they may be long dead their poems remain young
the poets of the land and the poets of the sea
In their beautiful poetry their greatness we do see

Their poems and their songs I loved as a boy
And their poems and their songs I will always enjoy
The beauty of Nature they did celebrate
And beauty in their words they loved to create.

Great insights of Nature from them we did gain
The beauty of their words with us does remain
We loved them for their poems in decades long gone
The deceased poets of Nature their poems living on.

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There Are A Few Poets

THERE ARE A FEW POETS

There are a few poets
Beyond the poetry you and I know
And are capable of –

There are a few poets
Who seem to write a poetry
Which is Poetry itself,
A Poetry which is everything Poetry should be-

Those poets are somewhere else
On a level far beyond any we can hope to reach-
They are Poetry –

And we we are the little listeners and readers
Who can in awe and praise worship
What we ourselves will forever be incapable of.

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The Beauty Of Nature The Poets Inspire

Were I a poet I'd write of Nature's beauty around me
The songs of the birds on bush, hedge and tree
The flowers of the garden so lovely to see
The beauty of Nature to look at is free.

The babble of the waterways the brook, creek and rill
That flow to the river downland from the hill
That flows to the coast all the way to the sea
One of Nature's Goddess wonders none as great as she.

Of singing her praises could one ever tire
The beauty of Nature the poets inspire
To pen their poems to her of her praises they do sing
The beauty of Nature outlives her every Spring.

And though all of her life forms to life come and go
Goddess of Nature whose secrets anybody does not know
Will live on forever she will never die
Unlike all other mortals such as you and I.

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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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(V – 2010) The Poet’s Nature

Reflecting Nature’s various hues
Poets write colourfully.

Echoing Nature’s innate songs
Poets write musically.

Learning from Nature’s righteous laws
Poets write more sensibly.

Drawing from Nature’s spotless love
Poets write more humanely.

Living with Nature’s poetic life
Poets write living poetry.

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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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Good Poets and Bad Poets

Some poets get awards and think they are good poets.

Some poets never get awards and think they are bad poets.

Some poets think they are good poets only in their own mind

Some poets think they are bad poets in somebody's else mind.

Some poets think they are good poets in somebody else mind.

Some poets think others think they are good poets but they don't in their hearts.

Some poets think they are good poets in their hearts but not in anyone else's mind.

All are insecure, except those who get security from the opinions of others and that, alas, doesn't last and isn't real.

Some poets have left the entire scene and live only in their mind.

Some poets take criticism and don't mind.

Some poets avoid criticism and do mind.

Some poets write poetry to get love.

Some poets love to write poetry.

Some poets are ahead of their time, in their mind

Some poets spend a lifetime feeling like failures in their mind

Some poets live only after they die.

Some poets have much to say but can't articulate

Some poets retreat, believing others don't understand

So which one of these am I?

I guess I am all of these and none of these

and no matter what my description

I intend to keep doing what I do:

Write. Right

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0026 To live in poetry

So often, poets
with their poetic eyes,
ears, minds, hearts, souls,
record actions that
are already poetry or poetic
in themselves
or so it seems
which makes it easy
for poetic poets to write
poetic poetry

as when I watch you
poised so still, sitting there,
your face against the light,
painting meeting sculpture,
still as any animal,
still as any goddess

roaming the cosmos in your mind
seeking, ballpoint poised,
the answer to some hidden
crossword clue

living in poetry

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Poets and Poetry

Poets love writing poetry Poetry releases there feelings there are all kinds of poetry, but poetry is in all life nothing can change that. Poets and Poetry is always around us this poetry is about poetry so you decide if you want poetry in your life.

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0005 Totally Boring Poem

I’m totally bored by:


poems that sound like other poems

poems that try to sound unlike any other poems

poets who never take risks

poets who think that taking risks
makes them good poets

poems with 'meaning'

poems with no meaning

poets who slag off other poets
as if that achieves something

poets that tell you that rhyme
is not for an age but for all time

poets that tell you that rhyme is outmoded and boring

poets who think that the poetry of 'the past'
is greater than that of 'the present'

poets who think that the poetry of 'the present'
is greater than that of 'the past'

poems that tell you the poet's the first to discover sex

poets that tell you they’re the best sex you’ll ever have
although you’ll never meet them to find out

poets that tell you they’ve been dumped

poets who've never known love and being dumped

poets who are ambitious

poets who are unambitious

poets who tell you all about higher things

poets who reject higher things

poets who think life’s just a joke

poets who think life’s no joke

poets who sit on the fence

poets who have no sense of balance

poets who despise 'the middle ground'

poets who talk about technique

poets with no technique

poets who just throw down their thoughts

poets who 'work up' their poems to a self-satisfied polish

poets who list what they like (who cares?)

poets who list what don’t like (who cares?)

poets who write about extreme states

poets who think they’re immune to extreme states

poets who tell you why they’re bored

poets who have opinions

poets who seem to have no opinions at all

poets who have boring opinions to air - why choose poetry?

poets who comment on others' poems
as if it's the last word

poets who never bother to comment
on others' poems

poets who don't love poetry passionately

poets who tell you they 'love poetry passionately'

poets who – oh I’m too bored to go on reading this,

how about you?

I suppose you have boring opinions too?

another time perhaps


and oh yes I'm most of all bored by
those who waste their precious time on this earth
being bored


well I feel better for that.

how about you?

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Absolute Necessity

Absolute necessity

Is poetry a luxury or one of life’s necessities?
I have to read, I have to write poetry a pure delight.
Other poets inspire me.Exploring the variety
of forms and styles that I can find, serves to stimulate my mind.
I do not claim to be the best I am just one amongst the rest
of poets posting on the net. Who you remember or forget.
Is poetry a luxury the answer must be NO from me.
To some it seems a waste of time to other folks it is sublime.
You are quite free to make your choice. But I will always raise my voice.
Applauding poets who can write fine poetry that brings delight,
Uplift the hearts of other men, more power to the poet’s pen.

27/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com.poeticpiers

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Egoism of Poets

We don’t write poetry,
Poetry writes us.
How can we make poetry,
If we are part of poetry.
The world around us is poetry.
Poetry is already defined.
Calling ourselves poets.
Selfishness in every line.
Egoism in every word.
Stealing poetry from the world.
That already exists in every form.
It’s written in every mist,
Every tree, every bliss.
Who are we to write?
Calling ourselves masterminds.
Trapping ourselves in believe
That we are creating something unique
The world at our feet.
Just too full fill our need.
Even this poem is an act
of a selfish deed.
Every letter in ink.
Created through love and sin.
Writing on a paper
But it’s the world’s skin.
Pressing on the surface.
To see blue blood is our purpose.
Thinking poetry is ours.
Poetry devoured
By poets every hour.
Poems all around us.
Turning grey to dust.
Turning brown to rust.
We have captured the most
But there is still so much.
Bleeding away in disaster, poverty
And war.
Ink to us all.
A poet’s only lord.
His only norm, his only home.
His precious and beloved poem.


We should be ashamed.

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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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Poet 2 Poet

We all have different writing styles, and we
May not all have grace and poise.
But when we do write, it’s all to make some noise.

We want to be recognized by the co-poets
All fair and true.
For writing our poetry is what we all like to do.

So I welcome all my co-poets who take this beautiful ride
And all their dreams and visions, they do find.

We do not only write what comes into our minds
But we write from the heart
And this is where poetry gets its start.

So continue to write all that you see and feel
Because these are human emotions.
That from us, no one can steal.

WELCOME ABOARD THIS TRAIN OF POETRY.

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A Freedom By Poetry!

Poetic freedom is the real freedom for human race;
The freedom they enjoy nobody enjoys in the world!
Free birds are the poets leading the world to freedom;
Nothing can stop the poetic spirit of human beings here!

Human life is incomplete without poetry in the world;
Poetry expresses the dreams, visions and imagination
Not only of the poets but also of the whole of mankind!
Poetry is also the criticism of human life in the world.

Poetry talks about the past, present and future for all;
Tells about love, life, Nature and beauty, a full knowledge!
Otherwise not anyone can gain that by any way in the world
And the place of poetry nothing can capture or replace ever!

Humankind is inspired by poetry for freedom to achieve freedom
And education for freedom can be imparted only by poetry ever!

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Most Of The So Called Literary Experts

Most of the so called literary experts are dismissive of rhyme
They say 'tis the poetry of a long gone time
Yet the poets that they laud the poems they do write
Cannot be put to music and are hard to read and recite
The rhymer of today is not looked on as a poet
Or is not seen as one worthy of literary note
By the so called literary experts with literary degrees
Though their judgement on what is or is not poetry not everyone does please
They never will convince the old style rhyme buff
To him or her well written rhyme is not throw away stuff
In well written rhyme are the words to a song
And good rhyming poetry to music belong
Yet the degreed literary experts who on poetry like to have their say
Dismiss rhyming poets and their poetry as of yesterday.

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A Poet in His Own Time

Who am I to criticize others,
I'm a poet in my own time,
my own place and my own world.
I just write what I see feel,
and hear.

My poetry may be different,
I don't follow the path
of other poets, but that's
ok, let them write what
they must write in their
own way.

All poetry is beautiful,
some takes longer to
understand.

We're all in this together
we write the poetry that
fulfills our needs.


(4-11-07)

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Poetry, That's What I Write

Parody of the classic song Money, That's What I Want

The best words on the page are here
Teaching you a hell of a lot more about life
Then just the birds and bees
Now you know words of magic
Words of wisdom
Given birth
Right here, right now
Oh, yes
Poetry, that's what I write

My wicked writing should give you such a thrill
So don't be shy
Go ahead and click on this link right here
My poetry won't pay your bills, no
But I can promise to give you some kinky thrills
Now you know
Poetry, that's what I write
Bright and beautiful
Perfect as can be
Poetry, that's what I write
Oh yeah baby
Poetry
Poetry, that's what I write

My poetry is the best
It's true
If you don't agree then I don't need you
You can kiss my sass
Now you know
Now you better read it
Oh yeah baby

Poetry, that's what I like
Poetry
Oh yes
Poetry, that's what I love
Poetry, that's what I write
Whoa

My poetry is the best
It's true
If you don't agree then I don't need you
You can kiss my sass
Now you know
Now you better read it
Oh yeah baby

Well, now read my poetry
Ooooh, oooh yeah my poetry
Read my
Love my
Poetry, oh yeah that's what I like
What I love
Oh yeah baby
Poetry, that's what I write
Yeah

2008 Ramona Thompson

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Private Poetry

Every poem, Every poetry,
Where are all the poets?
Hiding out, Hiding away.

In the beaches, forests,
In the caves and rooms,
In the islands and temples.

Make their private poetry,
Every now and then,
Here and there,
Over here, Over there.

Somewhere, somewhen,
Someone, somebody,
No one, No body,
Some here, some there.
Somehow, not matter how,

Everywhere, every when,
Every turn, every look,
Every search, every research,
There is a private poet.

Making a private poetry,
Writing private poems,
Writing lovely poems,
Writing profound poetries.

For the world and all
To ponder,
To reflect,
To open our heart,
To hear and listen;

What poets have
To say and write,
In a private poetry,
For the world to read
And treasure.

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