Below is the poem entitled A POET'S LAMENT recited which was written by poet
Strand. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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A poem is never merely still born,
It has its creator's eyes,ears and nose
Yet,unique it lives a life of its own
Independent,well able to stand alone;
On others it can,influence,affect
Energise,direct or initiate
A response,unforseen and immediate
Or lie dormant,yet not dead,but waiting;
Watered by another's mutual bond
resurrected,to live again,again.
A WORDS WORTH
I recite and read aloud,
wander, lonely as a cloud,
then emulate and create
as memory stimulates;
Swim against poetry's tide
therein,an enigma hide,
perhaps,a step too far,with
Tennyson,crossing the bar;
I dream on Will's sonnet verse,
figuratively,sweet and terse,
lazing life away,with songs
compared to a summer's day.
To conjure an opening line
A POETS PROGRESS
Through a personal lens I think,then write
Perspective's gaze alters,from night to night,
As blotting paper,absorbs impressions
Of poetry's learned and unlearned lessons;
my anthology,my journey's log book
From mainstream or the back lanes I took,
An emphasis upon a favoured form.
Those endeavours which I,on reflection mourn;
I change,I alter or perhaps stand still
In retrospective of a fogotten will,
And yet,driven by this creative itch,
Each day,I,this word tapestry must stitch.
Listen to me read these poems on youtube under the name ichthyschiro