The poet, walking over hill
The poet, walking over hill,
Beside fastflowing streams,
Finds that his soul is lifted up
To form poetic dreams,
And, reading nature's epic book,
Whose rivers are its reams,
He finds that she with beauteous things
And inspiration teems.
(Branton, Thursday,6th April,2006.)
poem by David Mitchell
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The Poet Finds....
The poet finds whatever the moon could not see,
The poet finds whatever the earth does not know,
The poet finds whatever the sun could not see,
The poet finds whatever others do not know,
The poet finds whatever the stars could not see,
So why do the heathen rage and the people plot vanity? !
For she who is pregnant is closer to us,
And the hart pants after streams of water.
Your tears have been your food night and day,
And like your inner self in the lan dof your muse;
But the poet finds whatever the sun could not see.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Rivers of a Poet
The Rivers of the Poet
The verses of the poet
vary from the rivers
though they also flow
while circulating inside
until materializing
in words and verses
that others can see.
The poet’s soul communions
with the exterior world
and flows like the rivers
with each inspiration.
The rivers of the poet
do dry inside of him
as he writes,
but it is forever
that they flow in written form
upon the sheets of paper.
That is how
the rivers of the poet
leave and manage to stay
until another river
appears and flows
with another inspiration.
poem by Juan Antonio Rodriguez
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Healing Through Poetry
The content of her book is very nice
And what she writes about she knows
She tells us of her struggles so well
Her love for God and His Son just flows
I am so glad that I got her book
Faith thru her book the soul uplifts
From my heart I recommend it to you
'Healing through Poetry' is a poetic gift
I really enjoyed reading this book so much
She surely shares some of her hopes and pain
Her poetry is a true tale of faith and love
Mary's healing thru Christ shows not in vain
Wonderful author gave me another perspective
Her love for her son shines all the way indeed
Poetry content can bring inspiration to all
For my part I'm happy that her book I've read
November 22,2009
Author's note: 'Healing Through Poetry.' This is Mary Ann Duhart's first poetry book.
poem by Dorian Petersen Potter
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A Creative Dream!
Kaleidoscopic dreams are beautiful
As the architectural beauty here!
Beauty of Nature reflected in art
A wonderful dream it is to muse!
Nature, art and dreams are colourful
With the imagination enhancing scope
To see a wonderful creative process
Materializing into great master piece!
Dreaming in Nature mind of art finds
Wonderful pasture to enjoy unique joy
Leading the poet to compose poems
Artistic, natural and fantastic forever!
Mind full of artistic ideas engrossed
In Nature poets dream great wonders!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Adown the land great rivers glide
Adown the land great rivers glide
With lyric odes upon their lips,
The sheltered bay with singing tide
Forever woos the storm-tossed ships—
And yet, for me more magic teems
By California's willowed streams.
For some the crowded market place.
The bustle of the jammed bazaars.
The fleeting chance in fortune's race
That ends somewhere amid the stars—
Give me a chance to gather dreams
By California's willowed streams.
poem by Clarence Urmy
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A Spirit Of Poetry!
when a spirit of poetry decent,
it came
In a form of dove
When it came
Jesus became first poet under sun
And Almighty God
Was already, first poet over sun?
Using Poetry in poetic foam
Almighty GOD spoke through poetry
And he is a poet himself
Now his poetry is everywhere, and anywhere
We interact with poets
Words are like soil, are everywhere
Brighter that Sun
His poetic lights lead the way
When he likes
He will come
He will be in poetic foam
To Re-arrange poems
Schedule them in a poetic manner
On a judgment, He will met poets first
And secondly meet
Those who haven't written a poem
To Discuss similes, metaphors and personifications
Future of poetry is in heaven
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
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Until Love Finds You
Until love finds you,
You never know what it is to be in love,
Until true love finds you,
It will make you do things beyond limit;
Like a better kiss and care,
A better romance will be your daily food.
It pays to enrich your knowledge,
Wisdom is better than silver and gold;
Love will surely hit you like,
The nutrition for the average!
It needs more than a kiss for a true romance,
Love is the art of creation admired by the champions;
So get ready for this love.
Until love finds you,
You don't know what it is to be in love;
Let this love crown you day long,
Like sweet water to your taste.
Until love finds you,
You don't know how it feels to be in love;
So get ready for this love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Reading romantic novels
Women of today aren’t women of yesterday.
A somersault has occurred in her way.
She has come out of man’s entanglement,
With her own earnings and own involvement.
Her mixing with men is very common;
To love at first sight has come uncommon.
No longing; no tryst; no more pining.
Many men around, she is a darling
Of all and not anyone’s belonging.
She tantalizes men around with a suspense.
Yet she hasn’t changed from her past woman
In one respect: she loves reading novels
Of romance where a prince finds on his way
A damsel in distress, whom he rescues
And subsequently falls in love with her.
Yes, she still finds interest in reading
Love scenes that ardent lovers would enact,
As an escape rout from the one that she leads,
And that involves a shallow intimacy
With men, who have no sense of commitment.
Reading romance is still a fantasy
02.08.2009.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Poet’s House Disorderly
What inflames a poet’s mind?
Sullied notion or inspiration?
Diverse thought or like kind?
Poetic soul asks no vacation!
poem by Ray Lucero
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Walking Town
One foot after the other
One place pretty much like another
Some folks got a pretty good deal
Some are just looking for their next meal
Out here where the days go by
And the glances never meet the eye
It's a walking town
And I'm just out here walking 'round
Walking 'round this walking town
You got a house on top of a hill
And a powerful automobile
The windows up, the AC high
In a world of comfort speeding by
Stressed out in the latest style
How long has it been since you walked a mile
In yours or anybody else's shoes
Well, in any life there will be dues
It's a walking town
And I'm just out here walking 'round
Walking 'round this walking town
Walking up, walking down
Walking back, walking 'round
Walking mute, walking bound
Walking through your walking town
One foot on the concrete shore
One foot in the human sea
Night falls on the streets of the city
And it falls over you and me
And all our dreams and our descriptions
Of the life this was supposed to be
Drift above the rooftops and the houses
Until the sunlight finds me where I lay
And it's a walking town
And I'm back out here walking 'round
Walking 'round this walking town
Lyrics by Jackson Browne
Music by Jackson Browne, Kevin McCormick, Mark Goldenberg, Mauricio Lewak, Jeff Young
(Swallow Turn Music, ASCAP; Eye Cue Music, ASCAP; Bossypants Music/Songs of Windswept Pacific, BMI; Bateria Music, ASCAP; Glad Brad Music, Inc., ASCAP)
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Innocent Beauty Vavroovahana Patra
Innocent beauty lives below the mountain;
Enjoys the beauty of the fountain.
Magnifies the beauty of Nature;
With sweet conversation contents poet’s desire.
Innocent Beauty is a beautiful flower;
In the lap of Nature is a lovely creature.
Her innocence provides inspiration;
She is a cosy rosy Beauty in the lap of Creation.
A little sweet conversation delights the poet day and night;
He is inspired to depict verses with delight.
Derives peace and pleasure;
Derives peace from the lap of Nature.
Beauty passes on the path delightfully;
Poet depicts poems gaily.
Enchants enjoying the Beauty;
She is a Brook of Gaiety.
Vernal Sun beam provides gay;
Beauteous looks the vernal day.
People enchant delightfully;
Poet surrenders on Mother’s feet gaily.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Doubt
At first,
I wonder if I will be okay....
I let him work,
yes, I play.
He does the right things,
says the right lines,
digs deep.....
my soul he finds.
Too good at learning who I am,
I make sure...
that can't be the plan.
My defense is down,
I've let him in,
I think he's all about the win.
just the right touch,
I'm thinking this is all way too much.
I have to doubt,
he is too hard to figure out!
No one can ever have me this way,
I have to say good bye.....
maybe at the end of today?
The Best Book In The World
the best book
in the world
the only true book
is the world itself
the Book of Nature
the best book is the silence
the wordless-ness in
the clouds and the sky
and the rivers and the oceans
and the lands
and the grass that breaks through the concrete;
and in the deserts and the volcanoes
and the stars
and the moon
and the creatures of the earth
and in all fellow beings
and the vastness beyond
and the vastness within
the best book
the only true book
(every other book is distortion)
is the world itself
the Book of Nature:
read it
poem by Raj Arumugam
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I Lay With You
Love on one hand
Laughter on the other
To have both in one lifetime
Bliss finds its guideline
Songs of the nightingale
Echo spring's daffodils
Purple irises stood still
They and I listen at will
Kaleidoscope décor
From nature's score
Green eyed mascara streams
Red poppies frame my dreams
Paintings in indigo
Capture Monet's faces
Limoges porcelains vases
Adorn their graces
From the wings of love
Spring borrows its brush
Its canvas masterpiece
God's centerpiece
My vision evolving
My heart revolving
Beauty eyes of May
Temper nature's way
Side by side
I lay with you
Of love and rapture
My poem I capture
Nature charms my thankful eye
Nature serenades all my whys
Why ask what is nature's purpose?
I dwell in God's churches
poem by leaking Pen
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Cuckoo’s Melody Vavroovahana Patra
Cuckoo’s sweet melody echoes in profound solitude, reverberates in silent atmosphere;
The sweet tune vibrates in the environment, contents poet’s desire.
Fragrance of mango-blossoms pervades through the vernal breeze;
Poet enchants in the lap of Nature being crazy.
Divinity reigns through the melody on Earth;
Earthy creatures rejoice with mirth.
Poet surrenders on the feet of mother Vinapanee, the Deity;
Depicts beauteous verses with gaiety.
Through the vernal breeze goddess mother Basantee blessth all innocent honest creatures;
Penetrating rays of wisdom contents their desires.
Cuckoo’s marvelous melody brings inspiration;
Beauteous is goddess mother’s creation.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Poet's Soul
I read the poet's souls in the poems,
I read the poet's inner world.
Pulse beats louder, then duller,
And all my doubts are just hurled.
The sadness sometimes a kiss cover,
Then suddenly curled at my feet,
Giving the whole body a heat,
The warmth of a true lover.
Fever passes through nervous points,
Chill runs through the whole body,
I read the poet's souls in the poems,
And feel that the soul is haughty.
I delve into the words and their nature,
Understanding destroys the walls,
Now I would like to capture
The main idea and the poems calls.
I read and my joy is in full swing,
My own soul gets the wings,
I am ready to fly with the singer,
Like me the poet is a swinger.
I am with that one who dared
To plunge into the holy spring naked,
I am with that one who shared
An inspiration and was not faked.
I read the poet's souls in the poems.
But do I read the souls of reality or dream?
Let's deem that no one here and there lies,
And the law of poetry is always precise.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 4th of April,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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With An Adventuring To Do To Explore More
Did I think,
One day you'd be reading me?
No!
Not this way.
But Reading you,
And the things people did and do.
I've always done.
Using a pad and pen.
To diescribe situations,
I'd find myself in.
Today who reads what I say,
Or believes what I express.
Depicts me best.
May or may not be true at the time.
Since my mind finds topic to explore.
And when I've completed my interest.
I leave that behind to open another door.
With an adventuring to do to explore more.
Is what I use my writing for.
To expose 'my' heart on my sleeve to me is a bore.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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0011 How Rilke might have translated Bashó on poetry
Be solitary.
Love solitude, and don’t look for poetry;
don’t seek what former poets sought;
see what is still and changeless;
see also what is changing;
be filled with the true nature of things – mountains, rivers, trees, grasses, falling blossoms, the scattering leaves,
and, yes, humanity too, its true nature –
and the universe will become your companion.
So your solitude will be full of the universe;
and you will watch, unmoved, the reality
and the vacuity of the world.
Concentrate your thoughts, in solitude,
on an object, on each object;
in this concentration,
the space between oneself and the object will disappear,
and the essential nature of the object can be perceived.
Then be quick to express it, while it lives for you;
say quickly what is in your mind;
as a woodcutter fells a tree, or
a swordsman leaps at his enemy, or
as you cut a ripe watermelon with a sharp knife,
or take a large bite at a pear;
this immediacy will be the life of your poem,
for nature will write the poem for you.
The language may be untrue;
but it will live with the truth.
You may feel that writing so quickly,
you may always fail; but pay no attention;
know no other thing than writing poetry;
let it make you penniless, if that is
what it needs, to speak itself.
Then, in your solitude,
which is so full of everything,
the poetic spirit will lead you wherever you must go,
make you a friend of nature,
and every form of existence will reveal
its individual feelings to you –
which are similar to those of men;
and all things, you will know, have their fulfilment.
In this solitude, your mind will be undistracted;
and then, enlightened by nature itself,
you may return to the world,
with a lightness of being, and poems
as light as looking
at the sandy bed of a shallow river;
as a tree untouched by the axe,
seemingly useless,
vulnerable to wind and rain,
at ease in itself.
Like a poet.
(This text is Bashó's advice to a poet. But the medieval Japanese poet and the modern European poet seem to be so close in their search for essence, for being, that some of Bashó's phrases have the same ring as Rilke's own advice to a young poet. I have tried to bring this out discreetly..)
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Attachment to Naure!
How is love of Nature developing in one?
Somewhere sometime in the past sure
Experience of oneself in Nature alone
Love of Nature must have begun in one!
Walking alone in Nature thoughts go on
Absorbed by the beauty of Sky, Sea, trees,
Mountains, rivers and valleys sometime
Kindling imagination roam as mad horse!
Fed by the elixir of beauty of Nature sure
One cannot resist seeing the same beauty
Some other time alone due to some reason
Making one a disciple of Nature as God ever!
So I too had my own special experience in
Nature beautiful at a hill station in Summer
Surely created a deep impression inside me
That never leaves me think separate from it!
poem by Ramesh T A
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If I Should Die Tomorrow Say Only This Of Me
If I should die tomorrow say only this of me
In Nature's marvellous creations great beauty he did see
He found some joy in writing reams of stuff he did write
Though none of it is memorable or worthy to recite
The Reaper has claimed the life from him and if his name we should recall
We can say of him that he loved Nature the most important one of all
For Nature is the greatest the one not destined to die
Immortality for human beings has been based on a lie
If I should die tomorrow and today is my last day
I will return to Nature for that is Nature's way
Of dealing with her life forms on all living things a use by date
Nature's Reaper claims the life from every life form she create
If I should die tomorrow leave me to rest in peace
From life's many cares and worries I will have found release
poem by Francis Duggan
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