Poetry
- Thread starter KTC
- Start date
A poem is like another home
A word -- a window
A phrase -- a door
Welcome, well come right in,
Stay awhile and you will find
The poet's gone but he won't mind
If you relocate the entire place,
a poem's not bound to time or space.
I love poetry too!!
A word -- a window
A phrase -- a door
Welcome, well come right in,
Stay awhile and you will find
The poet's gone but he won't mind
If you relocate the entire place,
a poem's not bound to time or space.
I love poetry too!!
It is the seeds to discovery of self
and life, the bloom of struggle and sorrow,
the harvest of new birth and greatness ...
it is the breathe inhaled, exhaled ... a soul shared!
(quietly sneaking out the door)
and life, the bloom of struggle and sorrow,
the harvest of new birth and greatness ...
it is the breathe inhaled, exhaled ... a soul shared!
(quietly sneaking out the door)
kdnxdr
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A. Hamilton
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Plucked from afternoons of random musings
Ordinary moments woven carefully and
Enticingly presented with a shy smile
Torturous anticipation cannot taint the joy of
Recognition, the moment of connection when
You know you chose the right words
Ordinary moments woven carefully and
Enticingly presented with a shy smile
Torturous anticipation cannot taint the joy of
Recognition, the moment of connection when
You know you chose the right words
to go so many places in so few words.
to dive into the memory, mind, psyche of so many and when you get there, experience a piece of the poet, and find a bit of yourself you either didn't know was there or had forgotten.
to experience someone else's moment.
to re-experience your own.
to see the same things you know inside out in a new way.
to awe at a well-worn phrase used in a new way.
to be amazed by the perfect fucking metaphor.
to awe at a string of words that you wish were your own.
to hear music in the sounds you read.
to learn a lesson, be inspired, find meaning, whether unexpectedly out of yourself or from others.
to have other people get those things from your words.
to have someone see inside your memory, your reason, your psyche.
yea, i love the hell out of it.
to dive into the memory, mind, psyche of so many and when you get there, experience a piece of the poet, and find a bit of yourself you either didn't know was there or had forgotten.
to experience someone else's moment.
to re-experience your own.
to see the same things you know inside out in a new way.
to awe at a well-worn phrase used in a new way.
to be amazed by the perfect fucking metaphor.
to awe at a string of words that you wish were your own.
to hear music in the sounds you read.
to learn a lesson, be inspired, find meaning, whether unexpectedly out of yourself or from others.
to have other people get those things from your words.
to have someone see inside your memory, your reason, your psyche.
yea, i love the hell out of it.
It is my favorite addiction:
time
space
by words
transfigured
shot through the reaches
of an expanding universe
i am both singing
and the song
in the same
moment:
hear
me
time
space
by words
transfigured
shot through the reaches
of an expanding universe
i am both singing
and the song
in the same
moment:
hear
me
Creativity is at the core of who we are
"In the beginning there was expression
And expression took form
And the Expressor saw it was good
And then He made expressions who would then express in the image and likeness of the Great Expresser"
We all find our meaning through various forms of expression
Poetry is not only an avenue, it is also a puzzle, a riddle waiting to be solved. How can we weave words into a combination not used before to say something, perhaps said millions of times before, in order to stir thoughts never thought before?
www.myspace.com/poetnate
"In the beginning there was expression
And expression took form
And the Expressor saw it was good
And then He made expressions who would then express in the image and likeness of the Great Expresser"
We all find our meaning through various forms of expression
Poetry is not only an avenue, it is also a puzzle, a riddle waiting to be solved. How can we weave words into a combination not used before to say something, perhaps said millions of times before, in order to stir thoughts never thought before?
www.myspace.com/poetnate
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Sadly, I just don't get poetry unless it's a really cool rhyme scheme or uniquely viscerally striking. I'm trying to absorb an appreciation for it from this forum but it doesn't come naturally to me at all. I'm glad you guys get such a kick out of it though. It's somehow comforting to know there's great beauty floating around to which I'm utterly oblivious.
the surface tension,
so the water glass
can be filled
beyond the rim
the sneaky-bite
of your brother's
PB&J sandwich
that sticks your laugh
to the roof
of your mouth
the itch that's scratched
by someone else
the stitch that fixes
the hole in a shirt
the taste of a third beer
and the held-in rush
from the other end
in a roadside bush
a familiar lover
for the very first time
and the feeling
she gives when you
and she rhyme
so the water glass
can be filled
beyond the rim
the sneaky-bite
of your brother's
PB&J sandwich
that sticks your laugh
to the roof
of your mouth
the itch that's scratched
by someone else
the stitch that fixes
the hole in a shirt
the taste of a third beer
and the held-in rush
from the other end
in a roadside bush
a familiar lover
for the very first time
and the feeling
she gives when you
and she rhyme
Have you tried Billy Collins? His poetry is considered very "accessible" - easily understood by ordinary people - but still containing lots of thoughtful substance.
What about song lyrics? I find many song lyrics wonderfully poetical - Joni Mitchell, Bruce Springsteen. When Paul Simon sings . . .
A man walks down the street
It's a street in a strange world
Maybe it's the Third World
Maybe it's his first time around
He doesn't speak the language
He holds no currency
He is a foreign man
He is surrounded by the sound
The sound
Cattle in the marketplace
Scatterlings and orphanages
He looks around, around
He sees angels in the architecture
Spinning in infinity
He says Amen! and Hallelujah!
It doesn't have a fixed meter (even though it's set to music!) and it doesn't rhyme, except for an occasional but very effective internal rhyme such as "Spinning in infinity" but it's very poetic.
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Some things I get. I get guitar. I get drums. I don't get saxophone. I get cigars. I get wine. I don't get coffee. I get most lyrics. I don't get most poetry. But let me see if I can put it in poetic form. If I'm right, this will suck:
hey batter
when poetry
is presented like this
i generally don't understand
the breaks
the line breaks
why the breaks
why the rhythm
why the symbolism
why the cadence
y the clever
each line
each idea
feels like a baseball
thrown in quick succession
a pitch at which
i must swing
in my wheelhouse
out of my wheelhouse
i must swing
exhausted
someone just bean me
so I can get on base
hey batter
when poetry
is presented like this
i generally don't understand
the breaks
the line breaks
why the breaks
why the rhythm
why the symbolism
why the cadence
y the clever
each line
each idea
feels like a baseball
thrown in quick succession
a pitch at which
i must swing
in my wheelhouse
out of my wheelhouse
i must swing
exhausted
someone just bean me
so I can get on base
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with a bit of work - it's really not that bad, III.
for starters, lose the first stanza and let the metaphor do it's job.
It's okay. I'm content not to get it right now. I'll keep lurking and learning
ETA: I don't get jazz either. Or rather, I understand it conceptually and artistically but it's not music to my ears as it is to others. It's just where I'm at in life.
Last edited:
Poetry as Baseball
baseballs thrown
a quick succession.
"hey batter" - taunting
keeping me outta the game.
here it comes,
a pitch at which
i must swing
in my wheelhouse
out of my wheelhouse
i must swing.
exhausted.
someone just bean me
so I can get on base.
baseballs thrown
a quick succession.
"hey batter" - taunting
keeping me outta the game.
here it comes,
a pitch at which
i must swing
in my wheelhouse
out of my wheelhouse
i must swing.
exhausted.
someone just bean me
so I can get on base.
Poetry runs,
In rivers and streams,
Floats through clouds,
Flits through dreams.
Emotions written,
While feelings caught,
Conveys a memory,
Expresses a thought.
And every verse,
And every line,
Becomes a melody,
Frozen in time.
In rivers and streams,
Floats through clouds,
Flits through dreams.
Emotions written,
While feelings caught,
Conveys a memory,
Expresses a thought.
And every verse,
And every line,
Becomes a melody,
Frozen in time.
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Great baseball poetry can be found here: http://www.edwinromond.com/books.html You just have to scroll down the page.
I find that some poems or lines haunt me at different times; the words of poets remind me about where I am.