Themes
themes should be universal they say.
to talk of the cruellest month.
excellent.
cities, monuments, flowers.
irreproachable.
a painting of a boy falling out of
the sky, hung in a belgian gallery
or epic sung by a blind bard.
ideal.
bad poets being fortunate, no muse to be invoked.
poems sprout, wild weeds in walled garden.
broken heart tears betrayal
pain shame fear despair bewilderment.
these themes can be arranged according to size
shape and colour in the bowl of the day.
Related quotes
No Dreams
What would we do if we had no dreams?
No themes, no streams, no things to play
With; Darkness all and all around.
No colourful thoughts, no shining streams,
No happy hours, those bright and gay;
No listening to the cheerful sound.
Of flowers showing their natural themes,
Of water falling in to stay;
Towards nothingness, we are bound.
To lose these lively things; it seems
Is the thing to do in this young day;
In filth of veracity, we are drowned.
What would we do if we had no dreams?
No themes, no streams, no things to play
With; Darkness all and all around.
poem by Osama Waqar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Nonstop Revolving Ethics Of Methods
Your themes.
They seem to remain unchanged.
'And the nonstop revolving ethics of methods,
Have not?
My 'themes' have become for me,
Much easier to acknowledge...
Than to struggle with ideals,
Too offensive for those...
Believing them to be delusions.
At least my unchanging themes,
Do get immediate negative feedback.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Letting The Grass Grow
i tried to make this garden clean
from weeds and beetles
i keep it away from worms
only flowers are welcome here
and you know it
things went wrong and you know them
all too well
a broken heart unable to heal itself
a broken self, shattered thoughts
un-assembled un-repaired for years
the expected auto-resolution did not arrive
expectations falling like
domino chips
got tired finally about gardening
the flowers are not that beautiful enough
to appease this grieving mind
got bored with pain
ennui reigning
these benumbing times
too careless
and hurting still
finally, i let the grass grow
the weeds conquer
the beetles breeding like hell
the worms
turning into butterflies
time buds now a flowering.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Random Sampling Invisibility
separated
into themes
sub classes
insights
split images
conceived
theme flight
concept
cannot
be picked
up dot
connected
constructed
checked
themes
masked
themes
variables
linked
coded
splicedread
identified
connected
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Idiom: No love Lost
Love poems, how trite they become.
Their hackneyed themes we want to scream.
We purposely shy away from
That genre, teeming so it seems
With grandiloquent, large supplies
Of conjured words with empty rings
Of cheating hearts and love that dies.
Ad nauseam is all it brings.
We wish just once that we could read
Where love’s expressed differently:
Brand new verses that supersede
Love’s banal themes in poetry.
Love-lost poems are sickening
But most of all they are boring.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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The Abyss of Shame
Into the dark abyss
of emptiness I go
Falling deeper inside myself ~
the greatest shame I know.
Hopelessness engulfs me
in ways I cannot express
Say goodbye to joy and laughter
and hello to emptiness.
Shame has joined me in despair
reminds me 'who's to blame'?
Me, for letting it happen to me
or him for all this pain.
I can't bear the painful thoughts
his touch, his breath, his kiss
With no one to hear my cries for help
I slip into my abyss.
It's there I can escape from him
and the memories that remain
Of the touch, the look, the feel of him
and his gift to me of shame.
But though I run, I cannot hide
the pain is everywhere
I just want to forget all I feel
and sink deeper into despair.
Oh please I beg, make me forget
the memories and the pain
The betrayal of trust and loss of me
into the abyss of shame.
poem by Hannah Randle
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The gallery of my heart
The gallery of my heart
~
Like a portrait hung
In the gallery of my heart
A girl of undoubted beauty
Breathtaking and full of wonder
Holds my gaze completely
I find my words flowing
In a river of adoration
I dedicate her my soul
There is a girl of beauty
Beyond which none compare
Painted to a memory
In the gallery of my heart
The softness of her eyes
A warmth to her lips
Fair skin and cascading hair
What love may imagine
When looking upon
A girl in portrait hung
In the gallery of my heart
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Film scores are often based on short themes, and it helps if you've got some way of developing these themes and making them sometimes last 4 minutes and sometimes last 40 seconds. One ends up doing it subconsciously.
quote by Anne Dudley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Travellers gallery
Travellers gallery
~
welcome to the travellers gallery
the windows frame a world
from water coloured rivers
to pastel forests and fields
sketched out towns spread out
between charcoal cities
nameless people, faces
all passing in a hurry
the travellers gallery presents
a life in motion exhibition
all in natural hue colour
by bus, train or car
the landscape and portraits
become ingrained in memory
welcome to the travellers gallery
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Gallery Owner
The Gallery Owner
He had been to the doctors
nothing could be done, they are
not magicians and he had
a painting exhibition at his
gallery tonight.
Sat in his chair leaning left,
less pain that way, some thought
he had had too much to drink.
In the night he was saved
from further agony,
a sudden heart attack.
Many people came to his
funereal, a lyrical lady singer
sang about love and loss;
there were tears;
...and then the silence began.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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A Kentish Garden
THERE is a grey-walled garden, far away
From noise and smoke of cities, where the hours
Pass with soft wings among the happy flowers,
And lovely leisure blossoms every day.
There, tall and white, the sceptral lily blows;
There grow the pansy, pink, and columbine,
Brave hollyhocks, and star-white jessamine,
And the red glory of the royal rose.
There greeny glow-worms gem the dusky lawn,
The lime-trees breathe their fragrance to the night,
Pink roses sleep, and dream that they are white,
Until they wake to colour with the dawn.
There, in the splendour of the sultry noon,
The sunshine sleeps upon the garden bed
Where the white poppy droops a drowsy head
And dreams of kisses from the white full moon.
And there, some days, all wild with wind and rain,
The tossed trees show the white side of their leaves,
While the great drops drip from the ivied eaves,
And birds are still--till the sun shines again.
And there, all days, my heart goes wandering,
Because there, first, my heart began to know
The glories of the summer and the snow,
The loveliness of harvest and of spring.
There may be fairer gardens; but I know
There is no other garden half so dear;
Because 'tis there, this many, many a year,
The sacred, sweet, white flowers of memory grow!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Who Defines Meaning In A Poem?
readers impose
meaning on poems
poets especially
more than writers
of other forms
of literature
or journalism
rely on their poems
having slightly
or even greatly
different meanings
to different readers
there is no absolute
interpretation of a poem
but rather levels
and a series
of meanings
if appropriate
the theme form
and content
may be best
expressed in tones
which not
all readers
will accept
or be
comfortable with
humour entertains
and poetry
may reflect
analyze or inform
with insight
individual tastes
differ and we
all have our favourite
poets styles themes
our unifying principle
is an endearing love
appreciation of poetry
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Story Teller’s Touch
as a folk song a fable or short story
all great life poems still echo haunt
with life themes of universal wisdom
Inspired by the poem ‘Half Drunk In Jesus Town’ by Eric Cockrell
poem by Terence George Craddock
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There's Pain on the Faces
There's pain on the faces,
A hunted look of despair,
Once again,
Have you no shame
Do you feel no pain?
The queues have grown
Of the dirty and dispossessed
Once again,
Have you no shame
Do you feel no pain?
The scared and the lonely
Have no where to go,
Once again,
Have you no shame
Do you feel no pain?
Will take you to the soup kitchens,
Make you stand in line,
Talk to the dispossessed, the lost
Have you no shame,
Do you feel no pain?
Were we here?
When she stood in the rubble
Declaring regeneration
A new dawn for us all.
Have you no shame,
Do you feel no pain?
Take your millions,
Do what you want with it
No one cares
We have no sympathy
For those who feel no shame,
Do you still feel no pain?
© 2012
poem by Nick Strong
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Dispair
Despair
I sit home sad and not the same,
Crying for hours holding in all the pain.
How you can sit and pretend everything's OK,
Moving on, day by day.
So as I carry my silent guilt,
Wondering if my life can be rebuilt.
The tears I weep when alone,
Behind my wall that has grown.
Reflects the pain that tortures me,
Until I feel to the lowest degree.
The deepest scars of my life inflicted with such pain,
Of the betrayal that prevents me from being whole again.
The trust that once was broken, can it ever be repaired?
To free me from the darkest hours of my silent despair.
Jim 1978
poem by James Casey
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I'd already made the decision before I'd even read it-just because it was John Sayles. Then when I read it, the themes were actually themes that have been a big part of my life.
quote by Mary Steenburgen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talk Talk
I got me a complication
And it's an only child
Concern my reputation
As something more than wild
I know it serves me right
But I can't sleep at night
I have to hide my face
Or go some other place
No!
I won't cry out for justice
Admit that I was wrong
Stay in hibernation
'Til the talk subsides and gone
My social life's a dud
My name is really mud
I'm up to here in lies
I guess I'm down to size
To size
I can't seem to talk about
The things that bother me
Seems to be what everybody has
Against me! (ooh! ooh! ooh! yeah!)
Now here's my situation
And how it really stands
I'm out of circulation
I've all but washed my hands
My social life's a dud
My name is really mud
I'm up to here in lies
I guess I'm down to size
To size
Talk, talk
Talk, talk
Talk, talk
Talk, talk
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think the themes of belonging and parentage and love are obviously universal.
quote by Christopher Eccleston
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Cant Stand Up For
Im the living result
Im a man whos been hurt a little too much
And Ive tasted the bitterness of my own tears
Sadness is all my lonely heart can feel
I cant stand up for falling down
I cant stand up for falling down
Simple though love is
Still it confused me
Why Im not loved the way I should be
Now Ive lived with heartaches
And Ive roomed with fear
Ive dealt with despair
And Ive wrestled with tears
I cant stand up for falling down
I cant stand up for falling down
The vow that we made
You broke it in two
But that dont stop me from loving you
I cant stand up for falling down
I cant stand up for falling down
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silent Dispair
Silent Despair
I sit here sad and it's still the same,
Crying for hours holding in all the pain.
How you can sit and pretend everything's OK,
Continue moving on, day after day.
So as I continue to carry my silent guilt,
Wondering if my life can ever be rebuilt.
All the tears I weep when I' m all alone,
Behind my wall that has increasing grown.
Reflects some of the pain that tortures me,
I've tried and tried and can't seem to get free
The deepest scars of my life inflicted with such pain,
Of the betrayal that prevents me from being whole again
.
The trust that now has been broken, is there even a repair?
To free me from the darkest haunts of my silent despair.
Jim 1985
poem by James Casey
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