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Tribute On Writing And Words Poems | On Writing And Words Poems About Tribute

These Tribute On Writing And Words poems are examples of On Writing And Words poems about Tribute. These are the best examples of Tribute On Writing And Words poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

Poet

Poet—Your words,
Like garments of
Gold and silver thread,
Shimmering in sunlight
Or bathed by moonlit glow,
When shed—
Leave me breathless,
Caught up in their naked truth
And timeless flow—
And I become aware
Of nothing else.


© 2012 Connie Marcum Wong


Details | Acrostic |

Poet Destroyer A

Poetess she is, whose magic is cast with great ease
Opulent in words, charming to the utmost degrees, 
Engraving hisses, silhouettes, images of natures surreal
Trespassing horizons never stretched out to an ideal 

Destroyer as known for, although she's here to compose
Enchating poems and songs her beautiful soul bestows
Such a fusion encourages poets to hold their inks and quills
To write 'bout nymphs in seas or orchards filled with daffodils 
Rampantly defeated by her as what often happens, except
Of all practiced skilled writers she's definitely the most adept
Yielded in a words-battle having a single acknowledged end
Efficacious "She" is by far a star who can simply transcend,
Reproductions of literary stylistic forms in her magnificent way

A lady I know as Linda with a pseudonym Poet Destroyer A!  

© Guru Jad 2013


Dedicated with Admiration! :)


Details | Verse |

Enigma's Calling

Extraordinary, I am 
Craving for unusual thoughts
Endless exploration without boundary
Understanding  the gift I shouldn't fought
 
Invisible drawings in my mind
Playing with the words in my head
My passion
The food of my soul
 
I feel so lucky
The random thoughts
A lifetime companion
A self esteem builder
A goal planner
Be my forever life saver
 
I write more
I talk less
I want to please
I chose to bore
 
What tickles me the most
Is to know what I'm for
Thinking is my love
When  my mind goes empty
That's when I hate
 
My day dreaming lust
Organizing things in my mind
Playing roles of simulation
Where images of art is my vision
And words of attitude is my heart


Details | Free verse |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them


Details | Rhyme |

Devonshire, Beautiful like the County

Beauty abounds like the English Counties name This all American girl, New Jersey dame Curious I was when Devonshire graced my eyes Then I started to read and what a surprise This language we know written as art Engulfed my enthusiasm, caressed my start I just a novice on my writing road Becoming totally absorbed, eventually showed Learning my craft, soon we collaborated This budding poet, no longer shaded Her brilliant guidance, paved my lay Alphabetical characters allow me my say <*>


Details | Clerihew |

Not, yet

I dreamt myself as poet-frog
And good Fancy` Fairy
Would stoop to pick my verse…
But she didn`t come.


Details | Rhyme |

A Tribute to Robert L Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF Ret

If he and I were neighbors,
Why, I doubt if we’d be friends.
On many major issues, we’d be
Found on different ends.

Just pick a topic and I know
We never would agree.
Our politics alone would prove
Dissimilarity.

And yet, I love to read his poems
And he reciprocates.
Our writing’s formed a bond of which
There can be no debates.

His rhyming stories crack me up – 
They’re laughter-generators – 
And he’s aware I’m partial to
A poem that mentions “taters!”

So here’s to Robert Hinshaw,
My retired Air Force friend.
I’ll always be a reader of
Whatever he has penned!


Details | Senryu |

' King David's 23rd Psalm ... ' (Classical - Tribute) 61st Senryu

‘ King David’s 23rd Psalm … ’ (Classical-Tribute)  61st  Senryu



The Brave Should Know Song:
King David’s ‘ 23rd Psalms ’
Makes Warriors Stay Strong


Details | Ode |

That Crazy Old Doctor

There've been times in my life
 where I've just had to say,
 "I must, give it all up,
 for, it's that kind of day"!
 
I must, really say this
 I really, just must;
 if I didn't say it,
 then, it wouldn't be, "just".
 
There's this crazy, old man
 we'll just call him, "Doc";
 who fills up blank pages
 with, "poetical talk".
 
He's scribbled, and scrabbled
 'til way, past bed-time,
 trying to finish each poem
 and, complete every rhyme.
 
If he hadn't done this
 he'd surely gone, "mad",
 his nonsensical nature
 was, all that he had!
 
No hidden agenda
 when first, he wrote down,
 each poem of nonsense
 to erase a childs' frown.
 
And, Doc always did this
 manipulate, "clues"...
 ..so that , all of his poems
 were merely geared, to amuse.
 
He loved to let nonsense
 be the order of the day,
 and, with every poem
 we all smiled, the same way.
 
His only intention
 was to set our minds, "free",
 his style, just did it
 so, poetically.
 
With his own tongue, in cheek
we knew we'd been had,
and his poems rhymed perfectly
proving he was no, "fad"!




The volumes of topics
 that Doc's written of,
 included all that could be
 written.....below, and above.
 
He's written of magic,
 puzzles, and games...
 ..with, strange little creatures,
 with, strange little, "names".
 
The, crazier his story,
 the saner he'd feel,
 and, the more that we heard
 convinced us they were, "real"!
 
His poems, were genius
 as he weaved us, a tale;
 with, nonsensical rhymes
 that did so, without..."fail".
 
"Old Doc", has quit writing
 he's up in heaven,
 this year, his birthday'd ...
 make him, a hundred, and seven!
 
He's given advice,
 taught what we must do,
 he said, "Be who you are...
 ..no-one's youer, than....you!"
 
He's maybe still writing
 in, heaven....you see,
 that'd be just like him
 as, that's who he must, be!
 
That, silly old doctor...
 ..as silly, as a goose;
 we all loved his poems,
 for, we loved Dr. Seuss!
 


Details | Sonnet |

The Poetry of Yeats


His words calm me when I'm restless
bringing beauty to my world.
I get shivers, I must confess 
when his passionate verse is unfurled.

I once threw a penny of brown
to see if love, I might find.
Like a princess with jewelled crown,
my dreams of starry nights shined.

Soft words of romance, he brings to life
with every stroke from his gifted pen.
Of sunlight, moon shadows, peace and strife,
I read his poems time and again.

His words bring smiles and move me to tears.
He inspires me to write of feelings, sincere.

By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders,  June 20, 2012
Tribute to WB Yeats



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