HOME Ramblings about “Poetry”
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POETRY IS A UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE
Upon a paper I put words
A poem, I had
thought
Better I had not begun
My efforts
came to naught
The tempo, it was accurate
The rhymes
did work, I guess
But taken as a work of art
It caused me
great distress
Like a robot old and gray
No eloquence
appeared
Not worth the paper written on
An occurrence
I had feared
The door to cosmic inspiration
Didn’t open
up for me
Though eyes and ears had strained for help
No vision
came to be
And in the end I failed to be
The poet of
my dreams
I’ll have to wait the door to open
Or waste a
hundred reams.
I read a rhyme sent by my love
Some thing in
me awoke
Words and thought sprang eagerly forth
Some serious,
some… a joke.
From whence it came I cannot know
But this I
must admit
It brings me joy and deep release
Tests my
perspective and my wit.
What a wondrous thing to find in me
A form of
expression new
Creativity I knew was there
Poetry brings
it in view.
I’ve read with relish poetic works
Since I was
just a child
I’ve not considered trying my hand
The thought
was just too wild.
It’s more than rhyme and verse, I knew
Thoughts
delicately restated
The structure makes the meaning clear
The soul to
mind related.
The eye and ear are instruments
in the music of understanding
The poet sorts the cacophony
Introspective
thought demanding.
The poet is a painter
For color he
has word
His palette’s truly infinite
His meaning’s
clearly heard.
The poet paints a picture
For the mind,
not for the eye
Perhaps that’s why in truth he makes
Between heart
and soul, a tie.
What ever else can be said
A poet’s catalyst
He smoothes the words or jars the mind
A facile
velvet fist.
There is a reason
beyond my knowing
Poetic words
do fly
Direct into the readers being
Without a
second try.
Perhaps the secret, truth be told
Lies
somewhere in the might
Of a symphony of feelings
Camouflaged
in sounds of sight.
I do not know the answer
Only know
that I must try
For to let my thoughts lie fallow
Begs the
question, to live, why?
It has become my nature lately
To write when
I have need
Express emotions from my deep
See where it
will lead
But now I’ve found a new perspective
Write to keep
in shape
Like muscles left unused untried
My mind
begins to ache
If I don’t open wide the door
Write down
what comes to mind
Frustration and distortion come
Concentration
I can’t find
A vicious circle I have come
To be a part of now
Expression past is requisite for
Expression
new somehow
(Poets
meeting)
We fill the room in silence, each
Bearing
secrets locked
Prepare to be examined, while
Our hearts
are nearly stopped
Strangers on the surface yet
Kindred in
our art
Who shall be the first to loose
Their cargo,
selves impart
Soon the room is filled with more
Than words or
sounds or rhyme
Beneath what seems reality
We have
vanished out of time
We visit each another’s mind
Feel and know
and see
Find we’ve traveled far from home
Tried our
locks with others key
We view ourselves through eyes anew
Hear voices
not our own
This gathering of souls has wrought
What tomorrow
will be sown
I sit here thinking, thinking, thinking
How to
improve my fare
My poetry isn’t right, I know
The best’s
inside somewhere
I realize the rhymes I make
Seem to do
the job
But eloquent, the words are not
True meaning
they do rob
I make my point, I give the thought
I bring a
light to shine
I try to motivate the heart
And sometimes
I do fine
But deep inside I sense a lacking
To really
strike the chord
That moves men’s souls and calls to action
The crusaders
upraised sword
I feel just like a child
On skates the
very first time
I manage to keep my balance
But grace is
not yet mine
I guess it just takes practice
To manipulate
the lines
In ways that stimulate emotion
With
transparent chosen signs
What I do seems all too easy
To really
qualify
As poetry quite worthy of
The literary
eye
I guess I want my words to carry
literary weight
More than cute, I want to be
A factor in
someone’s fate
I want to make a difference
In a world
gone mad, irate
I want to save the little things
To which we
can relate
I want to be a beacon
Shining light
on human drama
Saying things that need be said
Steady
insight, not a stammer
I know to get the job done
I must write
in such a way
That all who read will listen
To what I
have to say
To turn one phrase is easy
And amusing
if done right
But a phrase does not a poem make
Consistency’s
the fight
The words you read must draw you in
As if I’m in
your head
You must feel what I must feel
If I’m ever
to be read
The thoughts I leave with you
And the
feelings must have might
To haunt your waking hours
And sometimes
split your night
It might be laughter, might be tears
As long as I
remind you
That life’s about relationships
A review of
life you’ll find due
If I can help one life improve
By
encouraging introspection
Or rearrange a twisted view
My words to nudge correction
I’d feel my efforts real effect
Was larger than
one person
The world at large would benefit
My words more
minds would nurse on
The word, ‘sbeen said, is mightier than
The power of
the sword
I want to learn to use it right
To shatter
thoughts abhorred
Of course I am presumptuous
Thinking profoundness
is my talent
But If I don’t try my best to help
I’m not a
soul so valiant
We all must do what e’re
we can
To move this
world ahead
While maintaining sensitivity
Requires a
seasoned head
What good it does to live a life
That’s
sterile and unfussed
When all the richness we could want
Is
relationship born of trust
It’s my job then to focus on
The insights
that improve
Expressed in words that stimulate
And obstacles
remove
To re-examine all that is
From every
possible angle
To find significance and meaning in
The ways we
do entangle
Our lives are all the same and yet
They all are very
different
Differentiated by our view of life
Perception is
omnipotent
Perception is the trade I ply
Serious
poetry is the medium
My job done right sends words in flight
But hopefully
not in tedium
The work at hand is serious task
A daunting
undertaking
But this is challenge I take on
I’m a poet in
the making
The more I write
The more I
see
The inside of
The one
that’s me
Last night a poem I did not write
In my duties
I was derelict
My love awaits,… eager to see
The words
she’s come to expect
Heavy load, creativity
Beginners
luck I suppose
That rhyme has come so far to me
As if I
turned on a hose
I usually find that if I sit
With pencil
in my hand
The ideas come, eventually
If in my seat
I’m able to land
As you can see, I’m writing rhyme
To tell you
why I can’t
A conundrum of immensity
Can you understand?
Actually the Ideas do come
In the
strangest times and places
It may be from a comment heard
Or looks on
strangers faces
Sometimes the lines are serious
Sometimes the
mirth sneaks in
For too long I can’t be serious
Off center
streak begins
I have the tendency to be
Very Nashish
or Zeussian
No matter how I cover it up
Humor seems
to win
I guess that’s good for you and me
‘Cause other
wise you see
Serious gets me bored quite quick
And from this
poetry I’d flee
Higgle piggle, alf and wiggle
Eeny miney mo
Arf and Frank rudely sank
Simple,
crazy, slow
Words that make, no sense at all
Sounds, but
nothing else
A mind set free, no rules of play
Like frogs
and mice and elves
Somewhere within this crazy place
I like to
call my mind
Connection doesn’t always come
Puts foot
with orange rind
It is a strange, confusing room
Mixes known
with hear
Sometimes while forming serious view
I end up with
a leer
It’s like a puppy not well trained
Performs most
of the time
Fractures splits and tears asunder
But yields
some kind of rhyme
I’ve learned to gaggle and to platt
To swive and
trolley true
To pick a thought, gurgle ought
A picture
bring to view
I cast my line into this pond
Of words and
thoughts that fly
Snag a couple, hang together
On luck I do
rely
In truth I do not catch the words
They force
themselves on me
Alf hides higgle, pretends he’s piggle
It was them,
not me, you see
Blank paper, blank mind
How to start,
how to find
Ideas to write, words to rhyme
Tap the
depths, expand the time
Twist the view, distort the form
Express in ways not the norm
Look with mind not the eye
Lift yourself
up, higher than high
Feel your way, don’t think it through
Confuse the
brain, which side to view
Think in color, see with ears
Use the eyes
of your earliest years
Drift on the river of feelings not thought
Know the
truths, found not sought
Erupting from deep inside
From yourself
you cannot hide
Surprises come one after one
Creations
born on the run
Internal river, source unknown
Brings now that
previously sown
Endless flow of life’s energy
Lighting the
way so you can see
Fountain of life, essence of thee
You make your
own light, you set your mind free
I sit in front my little screen
Cock my head,
new thoughts to glean
Something will come in I’m sure
I know not
how ideas to lure
Patiently I wait to see
What strange
invention comes to me
Invisible words float all around
So far my
eyes, none have found
Depending on the mood I’m in
Bizarre or
pious thoughts might win
It usually is surprise to me
But shows up
quite reliably
I learn to listen for the sound
Of thought
emerging all around
And rushing forth to be expressed
Without from
me the least request
It does no good for me to coax
In inertia,
my mind soaks
I have to wait them, come to me
Then spring
upon them, lest they flee
Gather up what I can hold
Press them
into my own mold
Launch a bunch into the sky
Give them
wings so they can fly
Stanza after stanza flows
Until my poem
I’m forced to close
Used up all my captured fare
That comes to
me in moments rare
This pattern will repeat again
As surely as
eggs come from hens
But I must wait, my hat in hand
New rhymes
emerge, then I command
The disk, it is a whirring
The cursor
blinks at me
Expectantly the keyboard waits
But words
come not to be
Not a single subject talks
Inside my
head or out
Heavy hangs the silence…,
Inspiration’s
not about
The turning of the drive, gets
Louder all
the time
Fills the room, reminds me
The
schedule’s never mine
I am a simple beggar, waiting
For a gift of
Alms
The produce of a farmer
Of
otherworldly farms
That I can grind and chop and pair
Create a meal
of thought
If luck be good to me today
I’ll get the
things I’ve sought
Iggle frath an toogle wath
Ork en argle
don
Speegle arn o boogle do
Tortle ana
won
Efa bin an arlen cot
Deckle ena po
Weekle ora peckle frok
Orben tinkle
doe
Missle fortten zella boon
Acretia nolla
den
Willy wolla weckle bak
I’ve lost my
mind again
Why do I write? I ask myself
In truth I
know not why
My hand is guided by some other
felt, not
seen by eye
Words released, I feel better
But not for
very long
Something inside
must have its flight
Desire for
freedom strong
The more I reach in to the depths
Expose new
words to light
The more I need to reach some more
As if the
time were tight
Like digging in the sand at
Waters edge
with might
The more I take, the more refills
There is no end
in sight
Thirty poems I have written
Six days of
this week
Where they came from, not a clue
Only know to
me they speak
Feel sometimes, magicians trick
Is what I
come to be
Look inside, nothings there
But yet it
comes to me
Words appear on the paper
Hands do put
them there
Mind does see them, understands
At loss to
know from where
At times the words are coming forth
Before I
understand
I must read them, see the meaning
That comes
from my own hand
I conclude it’s not to be
For me to be
appraised
Of where or how the spirit comes
I’m
continually amazed
I’m also somewhat frightened to
Know the
answers sought
I fear another world that
Up in I’ll be
caught
That once I’ve opened and stepped through
I never can
return
Once I have the answers, I
Never can
unlearn
I rather sense I shouldn’t know
Though
curiosity lives
The details of the process that
For me my
poetry is
Night is falling, calm descends
Of noise, my head does clear
Like coming in from sun to darkness
Seeing
nothing, my mind can hear
Somewhere a thought is making sounds
As it bumps
and thumps about
Giving birth to words and pictures
Tries in vain to exit out
Suddenly I am the door
It comes to
me in flash
It flows from out my fingertips
Like blood
from out a gash
It starts it stops, an ooze, a spurt
My mind is
just bystander
I watch in awe as it pours forth
Than my
wishes it is grander
And when it’s done the door is closed
No trace is
left behind
Expectantly I wait again
For the door
within my mind
I’ve been writing poetry for
Far less than a year
I use my small computer, on
My hands save
wear and tear
But something strange in happening
It’s become
part of my life
I think I should adopt it
I’d better
ask my wife
This will be a great surprise
The
honeymoon’s not over
For me to bring a mistress home
Is not like
bringing rover
But at least if I am up
Writing late
at night
She can come, we’ll be a threesome
Wouldn’t that
be quite a sight
Computer is my constant friend
Knows my
every thought
Doesn’t tell a single soul
When I do
what I hadn’t ought
We’d make a funny triangle but
Love is
strange and quirky
If I get hungry when I write
It’ll help me
draw a turkey
It never will talk back to me
But still I
must take care
It knows too much about my life
With
blackmail it could scare
Perhaps adoption is too strong
A tie for me
to use
To have a wife and mistress also
My children
might confuse
I’ll have to be content to visit
Whenever
writing calls
She is what I create for me
She is what I
install
Another way define her place
By what I
just have said
It looks to me like fantasy
Cyber
mistress in her bed.
It comes to me in fits and bursts
No seconds
only firsts
The things I see and write about
An all
consuming thirst
To know about so many things
I can’t begin
to count
I must hurry, learn and study
Years of
panic start to mount
Trouble is I never know
What from my
mind will come
Deeply moving songs of love
Or tweedle
dee and dum
Dark and serious worldly worries
Or smiles
that I have seen
Saving grace for me has been
The following
calm, serene
On and on I’m sure it will
Take me to
the end
A job that’s never finished
A view that
twists and bends
Gives me views of things I’ve seen
In new and
different ways
Across the heavens in my mind
New creations
come to play
I am the guest invited to
Perception
new unwind
I get my pen, take a seat
Watch the theater in my mind
I have become a poet
Now I must
write some lines
A subject now escapes me
Panic now
inclines
Poetry’s not easy work
As some would
have me think
Substance runs away from rhymes
As quickly as
a wink
My brain is twisted like a pretzel
Straining
hard to be
Intelligent and entertaining
With words to
hear and see
All those wonderful verses read
Coming back
to me
Make the job much harder
Encourage me
to flee
Browning Keats and Shelley
Ogden Nash if
you’re inclined
Challenge my inventiveness
Some verse I
must design
Not only must the words make rhymes
But reader’s
thoughts must raise
Clever and articulate
Their passion
breaks malaise
I may be just a conduit
For
perspectives bright and new
I may light up the darkness
For the many
or the few
On occasion I bring laughter
Sometimes a
tear, I stimulate
Words take on a life their own
Thoughts may
please or aggravate
Words and thought, Rhyme and verse
All must blend together
Smoothly they must integrate
Like birds of similar feather
Each line must pull you forward
Toward
conclusions yet unseen
Desire, in you created
To know what
words will mean
Definitions fracture,
As poetic license reins
Tense dissolves and mutates
As ideas it
explains
A poem is much more than it
Seems to be at first
A symphony of sounds quenching
Literary
thirst
A subtle mental puzzle or
A grating
irritation
Simple entertainment or
A fired
imagination
Its purpose is to tell or show
An idea or a
concept
To stir an understanding you
Felt before
your mind leapt
A game is played twixt mind and mind
The poet
crafts the rules
You must sense the truth in hiding
Before it
springs, words are the tools
But in the end, hopefully
Profoundness
makes its entrance
Unless of course humor is
The purpose
of this nonsense
As you can see poetry is
Whatever you
can make it
Fun and games or serious tale
Wherever
minds can take it
It’s time to end this merry jaunt
A journey
through my thoughts
I feel a better a poet now
We’ve sorted
through the oughts
I’ll try again tomorrow
Word and
rhyme to paper put
Pour my mind out, split the language
Tie your mind
up hand and foot
If your fancy I have tickled
While
intelligent thought I’m making
Then the rhymes have been successful
And my leave
I will be taking
If perchance my words have seemed
Just simple utter nonsense
Success again you see, because
I’ve held you to the end hence