Truth Can Be A Boring Neccessity For Poets
The aim of the poet, this frivolous
Foggy drip morn...
Is not to in-line 'untruths' in poems...
Not 'lies' like we know,
Rather, knowledge of where/what
We've been, seen, heard...in poetry.
For the Raven beomes white,
Which well may be.
But, we must 'see' this
Raven shading new color...
Wonder, mystical.
The Great Father knows poet-shamans
Well...the Tricksters, Shapechangers...
The Great Father smiles...
Poets laugh lines...
True!
poem by Elysabeth Faslund
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Related quotes
On A Famed Poet
Forgive me if his greatness I cannot seem to note
His poems never rhyme but he is a famed poet
By literary experts considered to be knowledgeable and wise
And for his poems he has won many a prize.
Though poetry is not very popular today
The poet of the poetry lovers the experts do say
In University literary magazines students his verses read
And they all agree he's a fine poet indeed.
Of poets and poetry I must confess so little I know
My favourites old rhymers from ages ago
On the poetry I do not like most experts agree
That it is well written and quite good poetry.
Forgive me if the worth in his verse I can't see
His non rhyming poetry does nothing for me
Of reading blank verse I do quickly grow tired
My truth is by such stuff I do not feel inspired.
The experts on his poetry great interest show
And his stature as a poet only seems to grow
Of him great things are written and great things we hear
And good luck to him on his literary career.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Remember Raven
Aah! ooh!
Aah! ooh!
While youre busy trying to conjure dirt upon me,
Your ponys sucked dry by an african bee.
The muck you rake is not enough to keep your turd at sea,
Remember the raven,
Remember the raven.
While your busy trying to weigh your power,
Your boats getting into fast water.
Lifes going down the river of no return,
Remember raven,
Remember raven.
Dont try to be a warden to history,
While trying to find a seat for your posterity.
You better tend your garden for your family.
Remember raven,
Remember raven.
Judas never got the key to heaven, you know.
Raven, raven, remember raven,
Remember raven.
Raven, raven, remember raven,
Remember raven.
Raven, raven, raven.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Amazing Joyce
On such rare and marvellous talent how can one put a price
She surely is amazing the one and only Joyce
She has tried every form of poetry one must say with success
And to lovers of poetry Worldwide she brings great happiness.
The marvellous Joyce Hemsley a poetic legend of our time
The internet queen of haiku and senryu and the internet queen of rhyme
Six thousand poems to her name she just goes on and on
One cannot say about her that her better days are gone.
In every one of her poems one can detect her poetic voice
The poet for all Seasons is the amazing Joyce
What can be said about her that has not been said before
Six thousand poems to her name and from her expect many more.
She waves the literary banner for England a true poetic great
The amazing poet from Sunderland we ought to celebrate
A legendary online poet by example she leads the way
And surely a great mentor to all young poets of today.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Not The Poet's Poet But Perhaps The Would- Be- Poet's Would-Be Poet
I AM NOT THE POET’S POET BUT PERHAPS THE WOULD- BE- POETS WOULD – BE –POET
I am not the poet’s poet-
The one poets of name and fame admire-
But perhaps the would- be- poets would be – poet-
Who tries to be a poet
And tries to understand what it means
To love poetry and live by writing it
Even when the world does not recognize me..
.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Poet Became His Own Poetry
A POET BECAME HIS OWN POETRY
A poet became his own poetry
And all he could be
Was lines and lines and lines
Inside and outside
Lines and more lines
Off- rhymes
Finding a phrase
A metaphor
Hearing listening
To sounds
His own mind made.
A poet became his own poetry
And went into the long sleep
Of being only what he wrote.
No one can know how
Reading these lines now
The poet and the poetry live
without themselves.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poet Writes Of Poems And Poets And Poetry
THE POET WRITES OF POEMS AND POETS AND POETRY
The poet writes of poems and poets and poetry,
And the world goes by
And nothing is done.
And the sky- the sky.
Is it still above?
And Love and Kindness
Are they still deep in us,
Words or not?
Without Poetry the world does not exist for the poet-
But for others,
Dreams have other names,
And Music plays on,
And singing and laughter
Go on as the Beauty of Light.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The literary life
We went to the house
of Afrikaans poetry together
on weekends and spent hours there
and listened to the master lecture
and met some poet friends
around a table
with a drink or two.
Sometimes the poetry was Afrikaans,
English, Dutch or even German
and we learnt form poets
around the globe.
We discussed what we had
just learned,
asked about his views
of certain things,
or what people in the group think,
discussed poetry, life,
sometimes even politics
and philosophy
as individuals of a group.
We read our poems,
listened to other poets,
reading their own,
analysed every word, every line
comprehending meaning, impact
and sharpened our art.
Your poetry was really great,
from when I read the very first line,
but mine had still to grow
from rhyme into free verse.
At times I hated comments
that forced me to move,
but realized that it was meant
with great goodwill
and even though I was in pain
I sharpened my verse
and free verse brought
a clearer ear, making it
much easier to write
great rhyme.
Now that I had to leave Pretoria,
weekends I really miss
that great writing school,
new poems from great poets,
learning something there,
experiencing poetry at its core,
lectures from that great master
and verses of his own,
but much more
your poems.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Where Is The Poet That Can Inspire Once Again?
WHERE IS THE POET THAT CAN INSPIRE ONCE AGAIN?
Where is the poet that can inspire once again?
I have heard them all so many times-
Even the great are only familiar lines -
I wait for something different
From another dimension-
But it is not they who are tired
Or limited-
You can find worlds in them if you reread again-
It is I who have lost my soul for Poetry
And not only for Poetry-
It is I who am old and tired –
There can be no new poet and no new poem and no new poetry
When I have gone to the other side
Where listening and hearing are impossible.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Am Not A Great Poet
I AM NOT A GREAT POET
I am not a great Poet-
I am not a great Writer-
I am not a great Thinker-
I took my father’s dream
of Greatness-
But I did not realize it.
I
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Tribute To My Great Poets (Revised)
I forget who it was that invented the first electrode.
Let me praise the guy who invented the commode.
Love is all that matters in the solar system and universe
Some poets and writers like to compose using free verse.
I like to write my poems using ending rhymes.
Some poems I like to read over one hundred times.
The inspiration for some of my poems are from the divine.
The writings and poems of Jane Austen can make me pine.
A moving poem by Robert Frost can inspire my mind.
Let me mention another great poet name Edgar Allan Poe.
He wrote a poem called ‘The Raven’ about someone in woe.
So ode to the electrode, commode, the solar system, and the universe.
Hooray for poems that rhyme, things that are divine, and even free verse.
Bravo to poets who make me pine and all those who inspire my mind.
Let me pay a final tribute to the poets; Austen, Frost, and Poe.
I love to read a moving poem about loss and great human woe?
My favorite Frost poem is Road Less Taken; My favorite Poe poem is The Raven; And my favorite Austen poem is Ode to Pity.
*Definitions of pine: noun: have a desire for something or someone who is not present
Definitions of woe: noun: intense mournfulness, or misery resulting from affliction.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
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Little Raven
Little raven,
Where did you come from?
Little raven,
With your little black body.
Little raven,
With your long, shinny wings.
Little raven,
In mid flight.
Little raven,
With your frightening caw.
Little raven,
Why are you a sigh of death?
poem by Jameaka Shibles
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Proclamation
How many poems
must one write to be a poet?
None. An entire lifetime...
may be but a prostrate patterned poem.
How many poems must be
written to realize a great poet?
Only one. A single great
poem proclaims great poet.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Poetry Of Confession
THE POETRY OF CONFESSION
The poetry of confession -
The poetry of self- indulgence-
The poetry of the ‘wretch con-centered all in self’-
The poetry of moods and feelings-
Of all ideas only as they relate to the poet himself-
The poetry of desperation-
The poetry of need-
The poetry of urgency -
And serving the poet first-
Not enough of the world
Not enough of others- of other perspectives
Not formal and disciplined enough-
The poetry which is not crafted and polished
The poetry in which the need of the poet
Is more central than the quality of the poetry –
The poetry which may be too selfish to be good-
Whose moral failure makes more prominent its aesthetic flaws-
The poetry which is not so good
And not great
But quite banal and commonplace –
A poet can give his life to his poetry
And that still be nothing at all-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Patrick Colum
He penned 'The Old Woman Of The Roads' and 'A Cradle Song'
And to Ireland's best lyricists he surely belong
And his haunting ballad 'She Moved Through The Fair'
With any song ever written is one to compare.
And though to the reaper the poet has long gone
His best poems and lyrics will always live on
He sure was a master of the wordsmith trade
Poets like him are born they cannot be made.
The name of Patrick Colum is a memorable name
Even in his own lifetime he did know great fame
The beauty in his verses is for all to see
A man of great talent who penned great poetry.
Many of his poems are good but his best poems are great
And with the best of Eire he is one to rate
And even in death his fan club does grow
Most lovers of poetry a song or poem of Colum's know.
A legend in death and in his own lifetime
Patrick Colum one who penned quite memorable rhyme
His wonderful gift with the World he did share
A poet of the people and his type are rare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Poet I Am', And 'The Poet I Am Not
The poet I am, and the poet I am not
‘The poet I am’ says
To ‘the poet I am not’,
‘Why can’t I be more like you? ’
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Because you are not good enough’
And ‘the poet I am’ begins to cry,
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Real poets cry for more meaningful things’
And ‘the poet I am’ says ‘I am who I am and what I will be means so much to me. But still I am not the poet I wanted to be’.
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Exactly. Were you less concerned with who you are and more concerned with others you might be a bit more of a poet than you are now.’
And ‘the poet I am’ is silent.
And ‘the poet I am not’is somewhere else being someone else
That ‘the poet I am and the poet I am not’ cannot see or dream.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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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Raven, Raven
I took my children to the Zoo.
That was in March of 1993
And there was a sharp wind.
We saw a black
Raven who had stories.
'Are you thirsty, Raven? '
They asked him.
He said: 'Raven, Raven.'
'Are you hungry, Raven? '
He said: 'Raven, Raven'
'Do you have a family, Raven? '
I asked.
He said: 'Raven, Raven.'
We came back smiling
My children and I.
The children left.
We remained: sharp wind and me.
We went to my apartment:
My memories and I.
Unbearable loneliness.
I went to a pub.
The waiter asked:
'Are you thirsty or hungry?
You are not with your kids tonight? '
I replied: 'RAVEN, RAVEN.'
poem by Jankovic Zoran
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The Lake Poets
You have heard of William Wordsworth he was bard of Cockermouth
And he truly was a great poet if that ever was in doubt
And with Southey and With Coleridge they became known as the lake poets
And they made the Lake District famous and some famous poems they wrote.
Robert Southey was a fine poet he was slave to poetry
And he was for awhile Poet Laureate proves the great poet he must be
And though he is not well known as Coleridge and Wordsworth's is a greater name
He tends to be under rated and deserve a better fame.
And as for Samuel Taylor Coleridge a name verse critics celebrate
His works were born of genius a poetic all time great
The Rhyme Of The Ancient Mariner his masterpiece and some say
Is even greater than the famous elegy of Gray
And as for himself Will Wordsworth his fame seem to grow and grow
He has fifty times as many readers nowadays as he had one hundred years ago
When one talks of poets and poetry Wordsworth's name can't be left out
A testimony to the greatness of the Bard of Cockermouth.
Coleridge, Southey and Wordsworth geniuses all three
Their names inscribed in glory and poetic history
They lived in the Lake District that beautiful English country side
And due to the fame of these men the Lake District is known World wide.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Of Your Knowledge On Poetry
Of your knowledge on poetry you wish me to know
Your three favourites poets Eliot, Whitman and Poe
Though great they may be I regret for to say
That on reading them you won't be laughing all day
It is good of you to honour their renown
But this evening I must say I feel a bit down
And though the poetry of Eliot, Whitman and Poe I even read as a boy
Their meaningful words never filled me with joy
If you wish to talk of poetry talk of something that's happy and light
Like the poems of Pam Ayres they are breezy and bright
Though she is one who is not seen as a poetic great
In her poetry the joy of laughter she create
Why talk to me of serious poets and their poetry today
When the tears from my eyes are not that far away
This evening I do need a good laugh or two
Something I cannot have whilst I'm talking to you.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Our Poetry Critics
Our poetry critics ageing males on saturday evenings from six to nine
Meet at the literary room of the Lions Club to do what suits them fine
To talk of poetry and poets each to their point of view
Though they agree on one thing that good poets only few.
Well educated gents of course and they could not be rude
But contemporary rhyme poets only poetasters and them they exclude
From their talk of poets and poetry and in their literary knowledge they take pride
And who is or who is not a poet seems their right to decide.
They never talk about bush poets such verse they see as slipshod
And they see them as the children of the lesser poetry god
And for their years in Uni they have their degrees to show
And of poets and of poetry so much they think they know.
To them a poem is not a poem unless it reads like prose
And a ballad different from true verse as a weed is from a rose
And true poets only write for the privileged few that's what they do imply
And never for the ordinary, people like you and I.
Our poetry critics at the Lions they meet on saturday
And who is a good poet and what is a good poem each like to have their say
And if you wish to become a member of their club you must have your Uni Degrees
For if not to them you are not qualified for to talk about poetry.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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