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Arts and Entertainment:Poetry Articles from

Published: Mon, 23 Apr 2018 09:32:49 -0500


Three Poems (Kyrielle Sonnet, Villanelle, and Pantoum)

Thu, 12 Apr 2018 08:13:33 -0500

Kyrielle Sonnet for George Sand and Frederic Chopin. Searching for their love ideal. To plant there a dawn so real, God gave them hope to go ahead. And palm flowers for their dream bed. In their naked room without windows, Not touched by the innuendos, Music was their way to be wed. And palm flowers had their dream bed, The cradle...

God Too Awaits Light

Tue, 13 Feb 2018 08:42:04 -0600

It is a selection of some tanka and haiku poems. These are arranged in an experimental sequence that relates a point of view both individually and collectively. These also connect the inner world with the outer.

Two Poems - Complex Poetic Form and Triple Boketto Poem

Tue, 13 Feb 2018 08:35:26 -0600

Thoughts of unknowing and you dance me until I become the only movement... This tango undresses my feelings and I am stripped of all bad thinking to be enlightened. I am a Cartesian clear and distinct object on this pyramidal peak of the mountain, where the echoes trail off almost forever over the horizon. Let's sing, either with power, or with angels, or with freedom, naught else, nor no more songs, but a swing song...

Five Poems - The Robot, Reflection, The Last Cicada, Synthetic Blindness, Fascinating Truth

Tue, 13 Feb 2018 08:33:52 -0600

The Robot - The intelligent robot having green eyes doesn't understand the sense of the human perfection. He tries to catch the meaning of the lies. He needs a goal, and he knows that he's existent. Reflection - From the mirror, a man is watching how the rain washes the shadow of a cloud. The raindrops look like tears. The light is green, but the eyes of the leaves are yellow. He doesn't say anything While walking his confusion, which is a reflection of a thought with no color.

A Perfect Match of Ideal Artist & Lyricist - Dr Hari Om Ias

Fri, 09 Feb 2018 13:20:52 -0600

Dr. Hari Om an energetic, logical and multanimus. When he came to the capital city Lucknow as one of the election observers appointed by the Election Commission to monitor the Assembly elections, he had never thought that he would get a stage to showcase his talent as an Artist in Lucknow.

Various Tweetable Nuggets of Wisdom

Sun, 07 Jan 2018 17:26:03 -0600

The following nuggets of wisdom are worth a quick browse. Who knows, you might find something quotable here.

You Are Just Mine!

Mon, 27 Nov 2017 14:00:26 -0600

This article is all about betrayals in love. Because Love is a notion and not reality.

We Are One

Tue, 14 Nov 2017 20:55:09 -0600

I came here feeling scared and all alone. Knowing that I am far from away from my true home. The feeling was intense as I took my first breath. So I gave my first smile and swore I'd try my best.

When Love Hurts You

Tue, 31 Oct 2017 09:36:21 -0500

Smiley face peeps into heart's window nowadays, And plays the senses with tricky charming ways. What's the big secret I may never know anyway, But all the fuss it brings, the sensations too, sideways.

Poetry and the Muses Part 4

Wed, 25 Oct 2017 07:11:48 -0500

Poetry, as we have discussed in earlier parts of this article, depends upon the Muses and accessing the deeper self or soul within each person; this is not an easy thing to do. In the C18th Lord Chesterfield commented on how an individual could be anything they chose to be, except a 'great poet'. There has always been a recognition in all societies throughout history that the calling of the true poet - like the true prophet - is a rare and difficult one. But it was not always that way; there was a time when all people were naturally poets. This time, in Christian theology, we call pre-lapsarian, meaning before the Fall, the fall of Adam and Eve, and their subsequent expulsion from paradise. One does not, in my view, need to be a Christian to accept this contention; it is just that the Christian myth explains it in a simple way. But the reality is that all peoples throughout all time have been religious and have been involved in religious practices. Why is this? Because it is apparent that the human race at some early point in its history was involved in some calamitous and aboriginal mistake.

A Lost Love Poem

Wed, 18 Oct 2017 08:18:26 -0500

Have you ever been in True Love? Well, if you have, then this poem is all about True Love and how bad one is hurt on losing his or her lover. Read on to find the passion of being in love and then losing it forever.

Separation Poem

Mon, 09 Oct 2017 09:03:45 -0500

"Separation" - A thousand voices suddenly quieted. Snuffed out like a candle before bedtime. The silent chorus prevented from lamenting. Their words no longer echo through the halls of my mind. Specters of days past invade my thoughts. Roaming the corridors unabated. Penetrating deeply into grey matter and extracting hope. Replacing it with acceptance, consuming remembrance. Our unity has all but dissolved, like sugar stirred in tea. It spirals in a vortex and then disappears. Its sweet taste never to be consumed by us again.

Poetry and the Muses Part 3

Sat, 07 Oct 2017 17:41:15 -0500

It has long been observed that whilst the ego is useful in making daily and ordinary decisions in our life, it is less effective when it comes to more important issues; it is by nature competitive, and it tends to subordinate the greater good for more immediate gains and self-gratification. We know as well that the ego is largely driven by the left hemisphere of the brain, which is rational and analytic; again, rationality and analysis are good, but taken to extremes, have unfortunate side-effects: namely, a craving for certainty, a rejection of ambiguity, a need to be right, a lack of openness, and a foreclosure of intuition and the mystical dimension of being human. We learn from research in this that techniques like meditation, for example, have a profoundly positive effect on the human psyche and even life span, and that one aspect of meditating is the re-balancing of the left and right brain hemispheres. So, as the left hemisphere is correlated with reason, logic, numbers and more practical applications, the right brain is more concerned with images, feelings, intuitions and the mystical. Indeed, as Lee Pulos puts it: "the right hemisphere is the decompression chamber into the subconscious".

Mahakavi Subrahmanya Bharathi,The Great Tamil Poet Recognised As National Poet: A Brief Introduction

Tue, 03 Oct 2017 08:31:06 -0500

Mahakavi Subhramania Bharathi (11.12.82-11.9.21)or simply Bharathi was a modern Tamil poet recognised as National poet of India. He recognised Sister Nivedita, disciple of Swami Vivekananda as his mentor. He was a contemporary to Bengali poet Rabindra Nath Tagore. He had great reverence towards Madame Annie Besant and follower of Bala Ganghadhar Thilak. He worked along with extreme group members like V.O.Chidambaram Pillai and Subramaniyam Siva. He was living alternatively in Tamilnadu and Pondicherry. His poems are broadly classified as 1. Devotional songs 2. Patriotic songs 3. Biographical songs 4. Short narrations and 5. General songs. This article is a modest attempt to introduce this great poet to the readers who wish to know more about him.

Poetry and the Muses Part 2

Sat, 09 Sep 2017 10:28:53 -0500

The Muses we understand from Part 1 of this article are the daughters of the future and the past, and more specifically of memory, light, truth and beauty; they are essential for the 'good life', and we understand as well that because they are goddesses, they cannot be summoned by human will, but they can be invoked by supplications, by readiness, by the human spirit or soul that is aligned with their purpose. This takes us to a new and key observation: that everyone can be a poet if - IF - they can speak from their own true, authentic self, or what we used to call their soul; their core being. In her book 'Poetry and Story Therapy', Geri Giebel Chavis writes, "This experience left me with the strong belief that we are all poets when the true self finds its voice". It is not easy to do this, and goes way beyond understanding or using the skills and techniques of poetry that poets so typically deploy. The reason it is so difficult is because, sadly, for most of us, most of the time, we speak as our false self-dictates.

Brief History of Persian Poet Rowdki, the Poet of the Samayan Era

Wed, 06 Sep 2017 08:33:27 -0500

A brief research has been made on the life of classical Persian poet Abu Abdullah Jafar Bin Muhammad Bin Hakeem Bin Abdul Rahman Bin Adam and Rowdki. Moreover, life, activities, love with country and publications of Persian scholar have also been explained briefly. The article is totally organic.

PTSD Emotions Sneak Up Like Weeds

Thu, 31 Aug 2017 07:15:16 -0500

You do not need to be a gardener to understand this analogy. The plan is to speak plainly, and to be understood without an apology. When negative emotions run rabid without notice fear, and anger grow. They become like weeds that cover, replacing healthy seeds we sow.

Poetry and the Muses Part 1

Sat, 12 Aug 2017 09:51:06 -0500

We live in a post-modernist world and its values are everywhere around us; and everywhere these values are almost largely unexamined, and because we have little to contrast our present state with we fail to see how lamentable and poor we are. There is a deep materialism running through society which deprives people of the hope, the creativity and the deep mystery of life. Indeed, on this latter point, we see this being hammered home all the time on the news; for when it is not going on about the latest wars, plagues and famines, is always emphasising how the frontiers of science are expanding, and how soon - someday, one day - all our problems, especially diseases and even mortality, will be solved as the next medical advance is posited as something we all might confidently place our faith in. If 'making progress' actually made progress, then there might be some grounds for optimism; but as, after nearly two centuries of science and technology, we seem to be on the verge of world destruction, this seems fanciful at best. Of course, this phenomenon of materialism/progress is ubiquitous, but also encompasses that tiny domain which we call poetry.

I'm From - Reflections at 50

Sun, 06 Aug 2017 18:08:25 -0500

A poem of reflection at the age of 50. It's good to reflect as we age.

Faith In Christ Abounds When We End Today Like There Is No Tomorrow

Sat, 22 Jul 2017 10:45:40 -0500

It may seem cliche to talk about appreciating the blessings we have each day. According to the book of Revelation this is an end time to prepare, and pray! One way of knowing what is truth, and a lie is to hear the same prophesy. NASA in the USA has confirmed the Hopi Blue Star Kachina is on the way. Scientists reluctantly named this comet coming as Planet X, or HEO437, too. The difference from their observation, and prophesy is there is a plan through.

The Hidden Pain of Love

Thu, 08 Jun 2017 08:03:11 -0500

When you are in love with someone, it is difficult to describe the longing feelings you feel for such a person. Sometimes, it comes with some pain which is difficult to describe.

Brief History of Persian Poet Abdullah Ansari

Thu, 18 May 2017 08:07:54 -0500

Abdullah Ansari hails from Herat (now in Afghanistan) and was born in the year 394 AH. His complete name is Khawaja Abdullah Bin Muhammad Ansari. He was the fellow of King Alif Arslan Saljoqi, Khawaja Nizam Ul Mulk and Sheikh Abu Al Khair and also inspired from them. Abdullah belongs to the tribe of Abu Ayub Ansari.

Marvelous May - May All of Your Hopes Materialize - Make May Your Best Month Yet

Sun, 30 Apr 2017 20:22:23 -0500

May your hard work, input and amazing work ethic be of FULL benefit to you. May all of those that count on you to make a better life for yourself show you gratitude and appreciation. May you be blessed and enjoy all of the fruits of you OWN hard-won success! May you be blessed in love, light and happiness!

Poetry and Pleasing Verses and Rhyming Words Inspire and Captivate Everyone, Especially Our Children

Sun, 12 Mar 2017 21:24:42 -0500

* Children's stories are always short and sweet and rhyme at the end. If you think about poetry and rhyming that was our first inspiration as children to want to learn more about nature, animals and other peoples from around the world. At the onset of poetic inspiration are genuinely happy or joyful memories that inspire feelings of tranquility, relaxation and contentment. Perhaps happiness abounds for you too when remembering wonderful childhood memories! Do you remember your old neighbors, long, lost relatives or some of your favorite religious, cultural or traditional activities that you engaged as a child? Maybe specific cultural, traditional or athletic or original ways of childhood adventure were part of your childhood experience. Do you remember the name(s) of your neighborhood pet(s), or if you had a pet, do you remember its name? I remember most of the names of our childhood pets, though since there are so many kids and there were so many pets, I am sure that I might forget a few names or remember only a dozen names at best.~

Take the Time to Write Your Own Poem or Rhyme - Poetry Is Soothing to the Soul, Write a Poem Today

Thu, 16 Feb 2017 07:46:46 -0600

***Poetry is one of the first forms of writing's that catches the minds attention, filled with words that rhyme and offer simple, subtle and powerful messages. Life is clearly an expression of events taking place and the need for analyzing these events inspires poets to write poetry. Sharing thoughts and understanding is how our mind processes what has occurred, through the powerful usage of words. Verbiage can be shared by the intuitive connection of the writers/poet who was able to capture understanding from his very heart and soul through the expressive, illuminating energy of words. Poets are the type of people that may be more quiet and concerting, lighthearted or nature lovers at best! Most of the poets that I have met became poets after years of working through painful memories that were too hard to process without further introspection. Pain cannot go unchallenged, you cannot allow pain and hurtful memories to go away without challenging yourself to recycle your pain into something greater than pain; use as a service/learning and teaching opportunity to humanity, at least in some way. Writing and rhyming is a need to share comfort with others,and deliver messages of hope and wellness.~

Love Poems in Sanskrit Literature

Thu, 02 Feb 2017 10:13:29 -0600

If you come across Sanskrit and Tamil literature thousands of Love poems will take you to a greater level. Every single movement of a lover becomes a great epic! The poets left no stone unturned. The love poems are analyzed threadbare by the great scholars and in these poems the sentiment reigns supreme. The emotion of love is inborn in human heart. But it will come to prominence once it finds an object for its activity.

Who Is a Poet? Hundreds of Definitions, All Are Beautiful!

Tue, 31 Jan 2017 07:45:30 -0600

Who is a Poet? If you want to know, there are hundreds of definitions. Also you may find a number of explanations regarding their works, attitudes and poetic imaginations. Shelley declares that the Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world. Dillon says that True poets are the guardians of the state. Thomas Carlyle opines that Poet is a heroic figure belonging to all ages. The pleasure a poem brings to us is incomparable and could not be even equated to the pleasures of heaven!

The Workaholic

Wed, 04 Jan 2017 23:02:51 -0600

From the first moment he saw her He was hooked, sunk and smitten. Passing the chic design dress shop on the corner He saw stunningly beautiful large hazel eyes, she was Tall and slim, had a certain wispy elegant beauty In the way she moved about the window showcase.

Your Silver Tears

Wed, 04 Jan 2017 13:11:21 -0600

We saw you crying at Podbrdo, With our inner eyes, Your kind eyes filled with tears of sorrow, Reflecting the anguish of a turbulent century. I saw your crystal tears drip down to your rosy cheeks, And falling on the stones of the rocky Podbrdo, With my inner eyes. Are the dew drops on the vine leaves your silver tears?

The Aleppo Clown, a Symbol of Suffering and Peace

Sun, 01 Jan 2017 08:59:48 -0600

The clown of Aleppo who entertained traumatised children at Aleppo, a popular city of Syria, was killed in an air strike. His tragic death would remain as a prick to global conscience. It is time that all world nations to get involved in peace negotiations when war breaks out in any part of the globe so as to build up a stable and peaceful world for the future generations.

The Raconteur

Tue, 20 Dec 2016 13:33:41 -0600

If you like to tell stories, you have a gift. Perhaps you can make a profession out of this gift. Research raconteur, bard, and minstrel to see how others combined their talents with their gift of story telling, and earned a living.

Poems Discovered From My Deothang Diary: Nature, Sex and Loneliness

Wed, 14 Dec 2016 08:24:45 -0600

Here are 30 poems recomposed from my finger exercises during my stay in Deothang (E. Bhutan). They reflect various experiences, largely related to nature, sex and loneliness.

Lost in Fog and Other Haiku

Mon, 21 Nov 2016 14:49:58 -0600

Here is a bunch of new haiku unpublished so far. These are all a mix of haiku and senryu in free form.

Short Introduction to Poet Robert Frost

Mon, 21 Nov 2016 10:03:04 -0600

Robert Lee Frost was born in San Francisco, California in 1874. He is considered one of the greatest poets of the 20th century and has been widely acclaimed internationally.

The Influence a Good Attitude Could Have on Productivity

Wed, 05 Oct 2016 10:14:38 -0500

The way that Poetry Changed the World. Mainly through symbols and particularity of each poet to offer his/her experiences throughout poetry. Give others a sample of his/he particularity and structure of his/her internal world.

A Walk With A Wise Old Man

Tue, 23 Aug 2016 07:52:22 -0500

It was a radiant morning unfolding when An old man with a white mustache and short beard Was seen walking briskly down the long country road. For a moment, astonished, he sat speechless and still; The panorama below was one of absolute scenic beauty. A soft wind pushed a few wispy clouds across the blue sky.

Living Again: Some Micropoems

Fri, 19 Aug 2016 10:42:57 -0500

Here are 125 selected micropoems, including some haiku and senryu. The poems were composed during the last two years. Most of the poems are experiments in brevity and creativity.

Selected Haiku

Tue, 16 Aug 2016 09:11:32 -0500

These are a bunch of haiku poems centered round Indian kigo words, images and experiences. Some haiku are free-form, while others follow 3-5-3, 4-6-4, and 5-7-5 syllabic patterns.

Krishna Srinivas: Quest for Reality

Mon, 08 Aug 2016 06:41:32 -0500

The article presents an evaluation of the works of Indian English poet, Krishna Srinivas, who received Padmabhushan award from the Government of India. The poet has been known for his intuitive poetry with philosophical insight, seeking world unity through spiritual upliftment. His message has the all-embracing and all-transcending texture of the Indian soul and inner contemplation of Eternity which has been the Indian path throughout the centuries.

Squawking Democrats

Thu, 04 Aug 2016 07:21:59 -0500

With two-thousand years of Christianity behind us all the Democrats can say to their un-conforming rivals, or persons, is: "Watch your step!" Or to inform them to keep their mouths well shut. In fact if possible, and in spite of everything, to get into the service of the Democratic Party. These folks are a cunning line of crocodiles. Metallic sort of brutes. Obama is afraid should Mr. Trump, become president, day one he'd do what he did to President Bush, erase all his works. And he's right, Trump would. And that is the very reason he has stopped working his paid job as president to run a rigged election for Hillary. Rigged, meaning (but Trump can't say it) billionaires, the FBI, the CIA, all but the NSA, are in line to do whatever it takes, even invent, the unintended, to win. The NSA said it wasn't the Russians who leaked the information of her diabolical little tweets, but them.

The Use of Simile in Revelation of John

Tue, 02 Aug 2016 15:46:22 -0500

In the book of Revelation, John, the Evangelist, teaches by means of vivid visions and dreams the apocalyptic prophecy that expresses what the final days would be. John uses a figure of speech called simile to describe his vision. A simile is an indirect comparison of two unlike things using like or as to make the comparison explicit.

American Insomnia (In Poetic Prose - A Requiem for America)

Mon, 01 Aug 2016 08:53:07 -0500

Has it occurred to the reader, how many civilizations has been irretrievable lost-? Buried by social upheavals with subsequent relapses to savagery? Because of the loss of morals, law and order, violation of one's Godly values, or for not having any values! Rome, Babylon, Troy, Zimbabwe, Russia, China, North Korea, Venezuela, Cambodia, all of the Middle East, would we delve its ruins, they will come up short... Cities, and then countries. Soon to be Globalism, and the Antichrist running the show! We look for rusting mechanisms for dispute, add some doubtful data, dogma, such as no one can decipher, leaving our old friends like Israel, for the Bulls of Bashan- I assure you this is not probable but certain: the very history of America in the near future, will become more or less legendary- That is to say: no longer predominant, or widespread... If indeed it remains on its current course. Yes, I am a speculative thinker, along different lines of thought. We are now seeing the use of illimitable, illegitimate power through concentration, by our leaders!

Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day

Mon, 25 Jul 2016 11:41:02 -0500

It is generally believed that this sonnet is dedicated to the Earl of Southampton. William Shakespeare's friend is immortalized in this sonnet. The sonnet compares the perfection of his friend with the imperfections of a summer's day.

A Study of Brown Penny by WB Yeats

Mon, 11 Jul 2016 08:26:04 -0500

Brown Penny by WB Yeats is a short poem written in 1910 and deals in a lighthearted way with the serious business of a young man considering falling in love. The young man, perhaps Yeats himself, tosses a coin, the brown penny, to see if he is old enough to love.

Poetry Review

Wed, 29 Jun 2016 09:05:31 -0500

Writing of a review on a poem is an individual process. Nevertheless, there are several rules, which are recommended to be kept.

Our Beautiful Planet, Earth, the Heart of Life for Humanity, Worthy of Our Love and Care

Wed, 22 Jun 2016 15:17:29 -0500

Our planet is our home, as our home in an extension of ourselves. How we choose to behave and engage our planet tells a lot about our ability to foresee bigger and greater things for our posterity. From the beginning of time, we have been given a temporary place to stay; as we are all merely mortal; each with our own ticking clock of time; complete with an expiration date; before we meet our fate. While on earth, we place ourselves and our families and friends first. Earth does the same for its inhabitants and asks for nothing in return other than for our complete recognition that our planet has a universal purpose to grow, nurture, protect and provide life for you and me and everybody else who's alive and thriving. The plants, trees, mountains, seas, lakes and streams, the bees, insects, the animals, sea life and the environment all wish to ask for your recognition and acceptance that they too live on earth and want to provide the best for us, and asks not to be forgotten in the process of our daily lives. Convenience sometimes comes at a high price, please recognize your planets concerns and needs too!

Cloistered Poetry In the Abyss of Dreams ((The Old Tramp) (Poetic Prose))

Mon, 20 Jun 2016 08:51:45 -0500

He, the old tramp, had found a lost continent. He dreamed a new world. And he had stepped into it, -so long now had he drifted back and forth from it, he had forgotten who he had been. But he mumbled often-to whom might have been listening-"Too many people around, too indifferent, self-absorbed." And so I write of this old man, brief as it is, a tramp I met, and I shall fill in the gaps of his life, which was more his dream world than, what we consider reality. For the old tramp, his dream became reality for him. The more he dreamed, the more it took on an enraged realism. Outside of this dream world, the world to him was ugliness, and foul. "Where truth was, was what people wanted it to be at any given time, and never revealed fully," so he'd mumble.

The Charnel Vaults ((A Long-Line Eldritch Narrative Poem) (Poetic Prose))

Mon, 20 Jun 2016 08:51:14 -0500

Should the corpse speak to the charnel heap, what would the corpse say? Perhaps, "All that man is, is of but dust and water, and he thinks he's a big deal?" Or perchance, "In the end, man is thus, evaporable! And that is that!" What would the catacombs say to all this? "Down here it is just cold, drafty with damp walls, with deposits that are rotting, decaying, giving off dead air, and foul smells?" Who's to say, so I speak for them? I think they might surmise, "All the wisdom of mankind can be put into one head, why so many? We need more room!"... Maybe a statement-question might arise: man is but a laden camel that snuck out of the deep dark Edenic vales long ago!

Paused in Gloom ((After Lucifer's Campaign) (in Narrative Poetic Prose))

Thu, 09 Jun 2016 06:36:12 -0500

Everywhere as God's eyes wandered throughout the heavens, his heart was quaked, sickened, within this nocturnal and un-vernal age and aftermath of The Great Conflict! Lucifer's Campaign, his owlish irony-his thinking! Earth's galaxy, likened to a desert of ebon suns, orbs disorientated, off their axis, out of their original orbits: asteroids, comets, meteorites, all bombarding all of interstellar space at random. An unpeople earth, an earth mown, all in disfigurement. All due to the plight of the hostile forces of Lucifer, his two-hundred million angelic renegades, all had fallen upon this cosmic kingdom like a desert locust, as Archangel Mich'el and his legions fought them, of one-hundred million, and lost, until the Commander and Chief, God's Son drove them off the cliffs of heaven.

Dwarfs Perdition (Eldritch & Eerie Poetry)

Thu, 09 Jun 2016 06:30:03 -0500

In all of Seventh Hell, a morbid hyper-natural habitat, human remnants live with sluggish plant life, sharing each other's parts in sub-animal thought and activity: with gull and boldness in one heap of an anomalous horticulture of turpitude, and iniquities. All parts being ennui: forked with ears, and tongues, Noses, thews, sways and boles; to an onlooker this world would be thaumaturgy, for its wondrous weirdness, beyond redemption. Inside this pocketed loamy uninterred furrow, in its oubliettes, devil like dwarfs do their grafting of plant and corpse and even live human organisms, assembling fetus parts-sanguine-found in graves, purchased at practicums, clinics; suture one to another, amid repugnant odors, and ordure.

Music in Poetry

Tue, 07 Jun 2016 15:18:02 -0500

The article deals with the use of the musical element in poetry. It says that musical aspects turn collected meaningful words used to express something into poetry and that music has historically been associated with poetry. The article also suggests the new poets about how they can acquire the skill of fusing music in their poetry.

Can the Writing of Poetry Be Taught?

Tue, 24 May 2016 06:16:37 -0500

In our egalitarian and democratic societies we very much hope and want all good things to be available to all people if they have a mind to have them. Indeed, in the world of personal development you can achieve whatever you believe (paraphrasing one of its leading prophets, Napoleon Hill); and we know that poetry is a good thing, so can everybody, if they are taught sufficiently well, be a poet? A large part of my early career was spent on the assumption that it could be done. I was a secondary school English teacher for 15 years, taught thousands of students, and wrote several successful texts on just how to do it. But to return to my central query: they ought to be able to be taught to write poetry, but can it be done? Can they be taught to be poets? Lord Chesterfield said, "I am very sure that any man of common understanding may, by culture, care, attention, and labor, make himself whatever he pleases, except a great poet," which quite unequivocally denies the possibility that a poet can be made, although this is not to say that a poet is born.

Dancing in the Dark, Vexing in the Light

Mon, 02 May 2016 15:19:48 -0500

A 101-line poem of love. Heartbreak, denial, blame, reminisce, struggle and realization. Dedicated to Christina Perri, my golden woman with a million tattoos.

Writing Poetry: How to Write a Poem That Will Engage Your Reader

Thu, 21 Apr 2016 12:39:14 -0500

Poetry is such a fascinating and multifaceted aspect of creative writing; it is an expression of life coupled with the imagination. Writing poetry can be as simple as a few well placed words that rhyme or it can be a complex arrangement of lines, stanzas, and rhyming patterns. Once you have a good understanding of the wide range of techniques and styles available, you can craft your own unique expression of life.

Bring Back Fun In Marriage

Wed, 20 Apr 2016 13:45:14 -0500

Ego clashes between spouses are omnipresent. We need to learn diplomacy for harmony in the family. It is easily said, but almost impossible to achieve. In Western societies, there is a simple solution - divorce. In Oriental societies, the spouses carry on with their unhappiness for decades, as divorce is still a taboo, in society. Here is a case study of a well settled couple with 4 decades of married life, and is still searching happiness.

For Mama Went Away, You and I

Wed, 13 Apr 2016 10:43:59 -0500

"For Mama Went Away" - No one understands betrayal & distrust from you better than I, When I roar, because I love you, my heart sinks in an empty heaven space. I trusted you not just as a friend but as a Lover, who I'd be much more comfortable with; more than the hard male counterparts I'll never understand, 'cos you're my ma Now you held me high, took me places I would not think of going to, led me to the paths of the stairs, to hitch for you, the pile of...

Poetry in the Modern World

Wed, 23 Mar 2016 10:31:11 -0500

We do not stand in taverns sharing epic news stories in the form of poetry. We go online and lay it out for the world to see and to do with as they please. Often with little or no recognition, praise or compensation. The brave will create blogs that put their hearts out on their sleeve and self-publish wonderful works of art.

Poetry Writing: Tips and Inspiration

Thu, 17 Mar 2016 12:00:27 -0500

Ideas and inspiration for poetry can be found anywhere. Here are some tips to help you find the inspiration you need to write a poem and ways to make your poem stand out with your own unique viewpoint.

Lost Poet Series: John Clare

Thu, 17 Mar 2016 10:12:11 -0500

If ever he were consoled by his own voice, even through loneliness of heart and failure of spirit, John Clare merits the attention of those who, not through pity, but of genuine desire, seek the inner motivations of man. His poetry, strange and wonderful, still remains intimate to those with a solitary moment to spare and his descriptions of the countryside offer a reason to escape.

The Bully - A Poem

Mon, 22 Feb 2016 07:52:20 -0600

There he stood, 6 feet tall, All large and strong, In his head covered hood, The bully of Roanoke High, Pompous Bastard, Who does he think he is? His face like stone, Flexing his muscles, Rubbing his fist, Proud as an eagle, He was the King of his turf, Surrounded by his subjects, All following him, like his shadow. Ever in search of prey, Many trembled when they'd hear his name, Or pass him by in the hall, Not...

Rhydyfelin Festival of Literature and Laughs

Wed, 17 Feb 2016 08:24:35 -0600

Rhydyfelin Library Support Group's annual festival brings together local musicians and poets in a celebration of the arts that also raises funds for the local library.Guests this year included Aled Rheon and Matthew Frederick.

Writer's Block - A Poem

Mon, 15 Feb 2016 06:49:55 -0600

Every so often writer's block visits, my uninvited guest, Hindering the writing process, that usually flows at its very best. Self-doubt creeps upon me, self-worth drags me down, The more I try to write, the larger the paper mound.

Voyage To the 10th Planet ((Worlds Beyond) (SF Vignette))

Wed, 03 Feb 2016 15:32:17 -0600

In earlier times one would not be able to explain this adjustable journey with any credibility, and to be up front it has all been kept secret over a half century-plus, upon this reading. Yes, to this date, 2121, A.D., it has been kept in virtual silence, but it took place in the year, 2050 to 2053 A.D., we can call it an old Mystery, renewed: of the 10th Planet, to which it exists in its own personal solar system, with its Paleolithic inhabitants (Neanderthals and Denisovans type, with evolutionary genetic immune genes, perhaps cousins to earthlings). This story you are about to read, has been taken out of the nation's archives, where it was kept for posterity sake, for lost causes, until now. I am the Great, Great Grandson of Dr. D., whom worked at the once Louisiana Space Center, with Dr. McGee, and Dr. Hightower. And this is his story.

Through the Needle's Eye

Tue, 02 Feb 2016 11:50:11 -0600

Everyone goes through a phase, from an age of innocence to a stage of formal or informal learning and being in charge. It is in having a fertile mind and heart that we can allow the seeds of maturity to take hold. It is through both good and bad experiences as well as accepting people as they are that we gain new perspectives and real knowledge from every endeavor we choose to undertake. Every single day comes with new challenges and knowledge.

Four January Poems

Mon, 01 Feb 2016 10:41:47 -0600

Drama of the Insect (Out of the Peruvian Jungles) The singing of the mosquito is worse than its bite - Should you try and swat him he will taunt the ear throughout the night! The bedbug, is not so unlike the mosquito, or his mate the fly - He will bite you first, then sing his song, and should you try to stop him Beware, he will bring all his friends. They are all long-night intruders, sent from hell!...

Zaneta's Story (The Diamond T. Ranch, 1986)

Wed, 20 Jan 2016 06:28:51 -0600

It's been thirty-years, but I remember it as if it was yesterday, the year is 1986, we are at the Diamond T. Ranch, in Minnesota Zaneta is eleven years old, thereabouts. The value here resides in the premise, less important being the plot or progression of the account! It bends the laws of nature, and seemingly for me, orbits the paranormal; but it's worth telling. It was on summer weekends I took Zaneta places, and so as this story is about the Diamond T. Ranch, she was in fact familiar with riding horses, and we'd be bunched up with a group of people, and ride within the woods on old horse paths, and here and there the guide would allow us to gallop up a hill or two. About twelve folk to the group. Zaneta was given a larger horse than normal this day, and a more stubborn horse than expected. And as we trotted along the many paths within the woods, all was well, I and my horse were behind Zaneta and her horse, then suddenly, and abruptly, the lead horse galloped up an incline, Zaneta's horse kicked up and bucked, sprang into a gallop, and ploughed...

Inside the Closed World

Wed, 20 Jan 2016 06:27:09 -0600

You don't need to go to the Middle East anymore, Europe has more Arabs and Muslims than they do! I've been to Europe a dozen times, it's not like it used to be, Especially England! Soon someone one is going to strike a match and lit the stove that will roast Europe and America's-attachment! Like the cutting of a thigh and a chicken leg. All because someone in England wants a potential American president prohibited from coming into their country. America will not be force-feed tea, instead of coffee! You do know that happened once before, at the Boston Tea Party! Let me make this clear to the English, in England: Americans are not ready to wash and wipe the feet of the British Kingdom. That is why our football is not like your football. The Islamic world can do all the clapping of hands they want or rolling of eyes and hips with their hairy-chests, and call to their prophet! And the Mexican, can scream all they wish from rights without responsibility.

America, The World's Elephant!

Wed, 20 Jan 2016 06:25:58 -0600

America has been criticized for having back in 2005, some 700-military installations throughout the world, in 132-countries. Now, eleven years past, more or less the same! A Nobel Critic in the past decade has inferred America wants to control the world, and its resources (so does China and Russia). This is not laughable, but perhaps there is some truth to it. The standing acceptance of America being the most powerful country in the world is true: even Obama voiced this the other day, in his Union Address. Here is the difference: China overpowered Tibet, Russia will if it could overpower Eastern Europe as it once did and now is taking bites out of Georgia and the Ukraine.

Twelve Political Poems

Wed, 20 Jan 2016 06:24:58 -0600

1 Dung pile in D.C. (In Poetic Prose) Escaping the big wigs, And not seeing the humongous dung pile, Obama has built in Washington D.C., Is next to impossible (on a visit) Lest you are blind!

A Year Gone By

Fri, 15 Jan 2016 10:22:57 -0600

2015! Twenty-Fifteen was a memorable year. A year of immense anticipation, excitement and great pleasure. I worked with the Word.

Barack Obama's Libyan Meeting (In Poetic Prose)

Thu, 14 Jan 2016 06:31:17 -0600

It is in the dead of night, they are talking in Barack's Obama's meeting room of what is being calling a riot! Emphases on the word 'Riot!' He is told he can save them... There are cold embraces: they tell Barack if they don't send in the Seals only forty miles away, its curtains for them, - that, Sevens will be part of the new dead! "It's only a riot," he says. "No," a voice exclaims. "It is a terrorist raid." The Innocent Muslims are crying and kissing, parading about, over the so called riot that is really a terrorist raid. For the last time, a voice cries "Send in the Navy Seals, they want to kidnap Ambassador Stevens-!" "It's not a terrorist attack," is the rebuff back. "The Naval Seals, have volunteered to go rescue the Americans!" yells another voice. "No, they are to stand down!" There is no more to be said. But more is said...

5 Things You Need to Know About TS Eliot

Mon, 11 Jan 2016 14:40:32 -0600

Thomas Stearns Eliot, born to a successful entrepreneur Henry Ware Eliot in the year 1888, was a remarkable poet, literary critic and dramatist. He was born in St. Louis, Missouri, United States on September 26.

A Religious Lady

Fri, 08 Jan 2016 10:11:19 -0600

A religious lady in a home lives her life, as per her religion. A religious terrorist lives his life for his religion, in a mistaken belief, and dies for it. Shouting religious slogans is not the core of a religion. Beliefs, rituals, and mythology of a religion don't represent a religion. The religion is known by the behavior or conduct of its devotees. A plain housewife is more often than not, a religious person; where as a Taleban or ISIS member may not be a religious devotee, in real sense, due to the violence.

My Sister

Fri, 08 Jan 2016 09:31:18 -0600

Siblings are natural friends. In childhood, they share secrets from parents. They do fight, but forget quickly, and are back with stronger bond of love. In old age, siblings share intimate relationship, with their decades-old sweet and sour memories. God-made relationships are permanent unlike man-made relationships, and invariably stronger.

The Unknown Exoplanet (Worlds Beyond) (In Poetic Prose))

Wed, 06 Jan 2016 15:45:24 -0600

A man of old age-like me, fades like an old paint job on an old automobile if you rub it too hard; his bones are like old rusty bolts they break easily like iron hit with a hammer in the Arctic, and the engine of the heart putts and knocks like the engine of a 1927, Model T Fort, therefore before my memory gnaws and clogs, let me write this account out, it is actually recent, so I should get most of the facts right. This is a first time account of the first true origin of finding a new planet in a new constellation, #89, still unnamed, as is the exoplanet, unnamed, and referred to as such-according to Dr. Butch McGee, because "... the outer most region of the new planet's atmosphere comprised of artificially radioactive elements unknown to chemists and physics, the nucleus within the protons of the atoms do not constitute anything we fundamentally know to be part of the universe beyond this region of unknown space." But let me backtrack a bit, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Wasn't It Enough You Took My Husband, Will You Take My Son's Mandrakes Too

Wed, 06 Jan 2016 06:44:54 -0600

In a moment of emptiness she contemplated a burly wind. Not something others could imagine but it was still there, the concept is ethereal like worshiping a god, a figment, fancy, fabrication another grave mark around the corner, below the words. Yet there is pleasure in a stand still, open hearts, lacerated heads, above the image is superfluous and grand, sweet nectar, the smiles of children dancing in the rain.

The Sun Is Still High, Water The Sheep, Take Them Back To Pasture

Mon, 04 Jan 2016 08:03:11 -0600

If looks could kill all of us would certainly already be dead. Yet this might not be the worse case scenario, just think of all the ugly sheep just standing there, asking for a piece of rotten moldy bread.

Ode to My Lovely Sons

Thu, 31 Dec 2015 07:39:52 -0600

You are always there to make me smile, irrespective of how my day went. Whether I walked more than a mile, or just bring you flowers with a good scent you still make my day beautiful. You are here to prove my fertility, with you motherhood is truly graceful. Your presence in my world brings me joy and great ability.

A Very Short SF Vignette - The Ahesor Comet Report (2030 A.D., The Toad Like People)

Mon, 28 Dec 2015 15:20:03 -0600

The beings, to my understanding were no more than three-feet tall, with skin roughened similar to a toads, all naked reddish flesh, having little squinty pig eyes and albino hair, if any at all, for most were hairless. Beyond this description, they are for the most part nondescript, although plague-ridden in those latter days of their existence.

Live By The Sword And Serve Your Brother, When Restless Throw His Yoke From Your Neck

Mon, 28 Dec 2015 09:35:07 -0600

Surely you have duties to your brother, sacred kinship, colleague, cockamamy comrade, blind chicken, compeer, untidy au contraire! But sometimes those dirty monks can leave it all hanging upward in the air.

The Orb of the Moon and Two Other, Three Poems

Wed, 23 Dec 2015 10:15:27 -0600

The Orb of the Moon. From the perennial percussion. Of the gurgling streams. Backing up to the waiting shores.

On Your Marital Bliss! And Two Others, Three Poems

Wed, 23 Dec 2015 10:13:00 -0600

On your marital bliss! The marriage of true minds. Celestial in its blissful intimacy. Is a married life. So it is time now being coochie-coochie. With your newly wedded wife!

You Must Sleep With Me, I Have Hired You With My Son's Mandrakes

Wed, 23 Dec 2015 09:13:25 -0600

Drowsy, sluggish, torpid, inactive, hypnotic, soporific, narcotic. In the cave it grows, in the distance the lining will flow another demon tripped up. Untorn excitement neglected and detached, in due time it will find its opening as this has already been arranged no alternatives will be offered, predestined, inescapable, inexorable, oh how horrible the dragon, the dagger, the rogue, dope fiend, unsheathed weaponry, no piss, a smear, failed verbatim without recourse, trapped in a hole.

What If My Father Touches Me, My Brother Is Hairy And I Have Smooth Skin

Mon, 21 Dec 2015 08:03:31 -0600

Why does it bother you as you know it has never stopped him before. Personal preferences are relative, so why must we always explain it to you. If you are not first on his list, it is something a good boy must be willing to accept. Give him what he really wants, of course you have done it many times before.

Summer of '98 and One Other, Two Poems

Mon, 21 Dec 2015 07:39:27 -0600

In this shrinking world of fear you have left me alone dear. I know you had to leave, but that is something I utterly grieve... and from that moment on happy moments of love disappeared and gone...

The End of Innocence, A Poem

Mon, 21 Dec 2015 07:38:55 -0600

Where ever those days have gone... When you were so close to everything That kept me going on. I wish so much That you were here with me, And I had not wanted more of anything From this pretentious enemy.

Heaven Knows, A Poem

Mon, 21 Dec 2015 07:38:26 -0600

The fantasy of Home... The fantasy of Away... The dream of roots... The mirage of the journey: soaked in one lethal Tsunami...

Shattered Dreams and Two Others, Three Poems

Mon, 21 Dec 2015 07:36:45 -0600

From the farthest skies above To the deepest of my love There has been just one feeling: It's like coming home to you With that feeling of mine. A feeling of your love for me That never looses its shine, Until...

Dying Young and One Other, Two Poems

Mon, 21 Dec 2015 07:35:40 -0600

Slowly slide away, Hours, days and years... But, the deep blue sea On a blue blue day Keeps its hideous sway. And I know When the morning comes Will have to move away.

A Season of Memories, A Poem

Fri, 18 Dec 2015 08:10:05 -0600

More than anything else I know what it means: The loss, the loneliness In my heart Bursting at the seams. No longer there..

Passion Synonymized

Thu, 17 Dec 2015 11:43:16 -0600

A poem describes a partner's love and passion that could not be understood. It describes "passion" as being "synonymized" as it's been expressed in another form that simply is befuddling.

Anyone Who Molests This Man or His Wife Shall Surely Be Put To Death

Thu, 17 Dec 2015 06:28:36 -0600

It happened anyway, and look at the consequence, fait accompli, fortune, destiny, pernicious lot, an old grey sock, something turning about, a divine decree. But to say there was no warning would be a falsehood that led to a sacrificial end. It could have come off or materialized in many different ways, but severing the head is often traditional, steadfast, a sure fire method as blood will spill and the people shall see, the payment, the payback, a vendetta, hurray.

Two Nations Are In Your Womb And Two People From Within You Will Be Separated

Mon, 14 Dec 2015 09:21:22 -0600

It was inevitable I guess, with two nations divided how could the good guy work his way out of the pen. This is what happens when there are vultures circling, looking for bodies, something to eat up, can't you see the problem there are bellmen, bondsmen, barmen doing it once again.

Please Let Down Your Jar And I'll Water Your Camels Too

Fri, 11 Dec 2015 06:29:11 -0600

With admiration they performed their salacious act, coitus before bedtime, coitus with a broom. This is how they like it, with so many animals sitting there, watching, taking up the room.

HTTP: Hi-Tech Tales & Poetry

Thu, 10 Dec 2015 08:41:09 -0600

This is a little web development poem of understanding dedicated to everybody working in the creative industry, in the hopes that we will make their day! Enjoy!

Sir Listen To Us, You Are A Mighty Prince Among Us, Bury Your Dead In The Choicest Tombs

Wed, 09 Dec 2015 09:27:03 -0600

In a body bag he buried them, without much care, no concern or worries bedtime for the fruit flies, bedlam for the worms. Because there will always be a prince within us, a duke, a princess, an earl for how much could we possibly think about those who have been granted an unfortunate fate.

Know Love

Tue, 08 Dec 2015 07:53:34 -0600

I know how to love you Patient and kind with passion so divine that you see stars in my milky way. With soft words and encouraging phrases I lift you up on these pages so all can see the example of how real love can be.

That Old, Old Friend of Mine

Mon, 07 Dec 2015 08:08:08 -0600

There are many priceless jewels; we may desire day by day, And many worldly treasures that we gather by the way, But of all this life's possessions that human hearts defend, There is none I hold more dearly than a certain old, old friend. A friend I have always reached for as I have stumbled over the trails, And found a hand of welcome from a heart that never fails, For friendship that is rooted deep into the mellow past, Like a embracing sheltering tree, hold its virtue to the last.

Take Your Son Whom You Love And Sacrifice Him As A Burnt Offering

Mon, 07 Dec 2015 07:53:52 -0600

The directions were clear, take him out, light him up bring him to a coffin, smarten up do not break a single looking-glass. Yet this was no ordinary task, killing your first-born would always be quite rough, but there seemed to be something special about it. Let's call it a catharsis, discharge, distillation, a cool yearning, extrication, substance, release.

History of African Poetry Content and Form

Fri, 04 Dec 2015 10:49:09 -0600

Content - The content of African poetry, is made of themes that emanate from the African background. This background, as you will recall, consists essentially of experiences of colonial and post-colonial eras. The details of these experiences involve firstly a clash of cultures which featured in the initial colonial contact between Africa and the West.