Best Blake Poems


Premium Member Blake An Isolated Genius

like a dying flame
            looking down
from
a 
fired coloured
                      sky
a visionary
    in his earthly
                        life

mysterious
in every detail
          tempetuous
and yet
subjective

a lonely genius
mused
     by fierce 
           inspirations
                tearing
imaginations asunder

visions
     of paradise
     in near
        abstracted clouds
                               of colour
delicate
detailed
      often sombre
the spirit
of a willing mind

writing
       designing
             engraving
printing
     copper plates
on a rolling press
&
a poet
       so sublime

     none-the-less

Premium Member Cornish Eye

I watched
A Cornish chough,
Flying so Cornish high,
Over Cornish cliffs,
In a Cornish sky,
All Cornish observations,
Made by my Cornish eye.

I watched 
The Cornish sun,
Masked by a Cornish cloud,
I thought my Cornish thoughts,
My Cornish thoughts were loud,
I viewed the Cornish landscape,
And I felt so Cornish proud.

I watched 
The Cornish waves,
Roll into the Cornish bay,
I saw the Cornish sunset,
At the end of another Cornish day,
For I am forever Cornish,
And forever Cornish I will stay ...

An Ode To William Blake

An Ode To William 
Blake
----------------------------------
He when Painted, 
Printed or Wrote,
His face always wore 
a grave grin.
THAT Soft in heart 
and hand,
The sculptor, stones 
had ever seen;
Sitting by the lonely-
lake’s shore 
Portrayed the 
playing cherubs. 
For me his shop 
would have been,
For Pope, Dryden’s 
coffee 
shop.	
 Loved who little-
boys, herders and 
sheep,
And praised country 
and for lambs prayed.
An artist lived there 
unknown,
 Unnoticed, ahead of 
his time.

(contd...)
© Fayaz Bhat  Create an image from this poem.


William Blake (1757-1827)

He saw too far, too deep
To linger long
Amid the zombie throng
Of men who are asleep.

He spied the angels near
Enough to touch;
He painted such
Exquisite visions clear.

He painted them with lines
And with his words:
Immortal birds
That fly in dream-designs.
© Steve Eng  Create an image from this poem.

Blake Lively

Not much can match Blake Lively in nineteen sixties attire.
I'm looking for a path way to hire
That leads me to some type of perfection
That is emulated
In that image
In the scene
I am amazed by how serene
A woman can be.
Like my fondness of trees
A special one makes it easier to breathe
In this highly polluted world
A girl of your dreams is also Lady Liberty in discreet
She saved you from your long search
And your long absence of something greater.

Letters To Dead Poets; Chapter 1: To William Blake

In that endless night
we heed; cold and bitterness
unto the morning light
Sightless vision binds our eyes
madness disembarks into our lives
A cold dark prison earned
is the bittersweet sentence served
A life stolen and a life lived in hush
tis golden silence upon that burning bush

Trembling utterances on the grave
it's the human heart that we poets save
In this final night and in that coming day
let all that you dream become what may
for once the fires lit, the dream is here to stay.

--------
In response to:

"Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to Endless Night"

From Auguries of Innocence, by William Blake


Premium Member Creature of Doom

What creature is this that cometh near
His luggage filled to the brim with fear
Crushing our lives, crushing our beliefs
O whence for me shall bring only griefs
What of the men whom now weep?
What of the woman buried alive in their sleep?
What of the children who once stood brave?
Their minds controlled their souls enslaved

The baneful trumpets sound one by one
Can you hear them or are you numb?
Will you fear the creature of doom?
Come undone?
Or shall you overcome?
Overcome, overcome

Filled to the gunwale are the guns
The creature of the swamp now runs
He runs all things and everyone
The children now walk the plank
All hope sank, hopes sank

The baneful trumpets sound one by one
Can you hear them or are you numb?
Will you fear the creature of doom?
Come undone?
Shall you overcome?
Overcome, overcome

Will you fear the creature of doom?
Will you come undone?
Shall you overcome?
Overcome, shall overcome
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

Paul Blake

Paul was born with cerebral palsy, 
Deprived of blood in the womb, 
And his father, also called Paul, 
Acted in Starwars, in the 1977 film.

He was born in 1990, 15 January, 
And is a most consistent runner, 
He must get fitness from his mum, 
Who was a dancer, Royal Ballet.  

He races in T36 middle distances, 
And at the London Paralympics, 
He won one silver and one bronze, 
Owning the WR for 800m and 1500.

Then in 2013 at the Worlds, Lyon,
He took a gold and a silver swiftly,
In both the 800m and in the 400m,
Where his rivals did not glance.

In 2014 at the IPC Europeans,
Which were held in Swansea,
He collected silver and bronze,
This time in the 400 and 100m.

And in 2015, Doha at the Worlds,
Paul won gold in the 800 metres,
And took silver in the 400m charge.
As the co-captain of the GB team.

Premium Member Oracles

A secret is granted
any curb captain
listening.

To speak rarely and
with roots.

Blake wears a hardhat,
drives a forklift for
Metal Products.

Whitman collects
unemployment in the mail.

New words
are mined coal.

They are the drink
from bags,
the suicide in jail,
and
the housekeeper
called only by her first name.

Keeping pace
with a secret at
the speed of light
is the wisdom felt on crowded subways.

Andrew Marvel, William Blake To Wordsworth

I
 What immortal hand or eye
Could frame mysteries in the sky!

II
When the world is too much with us
 He sends visions, Ramanujans, Christ

III
 Shakespeare had dreams, even awake
When humanity was poor in tea & cake

IV
God gives words to poets: leaves sailing -
To begin - loving a pet, sky - urge growing
© Anil Deo  Create an image from this poem.

Blake

to think he finally found his answer to 
releif,
would only leave pain and greif.
to end his own suffering and 
pain.
what would friends and family have to gain?
his life felt pointless thanks to past pain,abuse, and lifes trials and tribulations.
suicide was not tha answer,
if he only knew he shoulda been thankful.
what he went through was horrible 
yes
but staying possitive was tha 
test.
everything happens for a reason,
to find strength in god to breathe another season.
this was not destiny nor 
fate.
he had a whole life ahead of him now its to
late.
now near a casket they sit at his wake.
maybe it coulda been prevented if he knew he wasnt alone
instead of taking a life in his own home..
Reach out your not alone
god has a purpose for all us.....
© Tyler Lara  Create an image from this poem.

Blue Eys Blake

Wrote this for the biggest Blake Shelton Fan contest

With a "Hillbilly Bone" down deep inside
There is no way Blake can hide
How country that he can be
He's a little "Honey Bee"
With eyes that are bright and blue
Singing with a voice so true
Serenading wife Miranda
They cuddle on the cabana
"The More He Drinks" it gets crazy
All his thoughts become so hazy
But "On A Good Day"
Miranda's "Love Get's In The Way"
With a love that's coming true
She whispers "God Gave Me You"
A "White Christmas" there will be
As kids gather around the tree
"Night Before Christmas" being read
Kids question every line that's said
Troops are always on his mind
He writes songs so sweet and kind
Wishing them "Home" everywhere
Showing just how much he cares
A proud and loving grandson
He remembers "Granddaddy's Gun"
He takes care of with such grace
A smile shines upon his face
He is full of fun and smiles
Always wearing different styles
He's "The Baby" of his mom
She has lots of special charm
No matter how far he roams
Its "Always Time For Him To Come Home"
A cowboy with lots of class
Who says "Kiss My Country Ass"
If you don't like what he stands for
He will fight and he will claw
With his friend Toby so true
Courtesy Of The Red White And Blue

Premium Member Critterature: Critiquing William Blake

"Tyger, tyger burning bright
In the forests of the night…"
Archaic spelling set aside,
And not intending to be snide,
But really, Mr. Blake, I take exception.
While a tiger's luminosity
May pique your curiosity,
What the beastie's wattage is, you've no conception.
But who am I to judge you?
And so I'll not begrudge you
This "poesy" that was your lifelong passion.
But could it be that you were smokin'
A little "weed" the night you spoke in
That weird and kinda highfalutin' fashion?
Oh, we'll debate it, if you want to,
But it will come back to haunt you,
And the tiger, in the end, will defeat ya.
'cause metaphysical or not,
If a tiger's light is hot,
That's a sign he's getting ready, pal,
To eat ya!

Natalie Blake

Natalie has been to five Paralympics, including Rio, 
And recently took the bronze at World Powerlifting, 
In Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia 2016, IPC World Cup -
It paralleled her Glasgow silver, Commonwealths. 

She lifts in the 61kg class, but in Malaysia lifted a PB
Of 98kg. In 2013 at the Euros, Russia, she won silver, 
And in 2015 at the Euros in Hungary she won bronze. 
She’s competed longer than any other in powerlifting.

After finishing sixth at Rio she remarked: “I’m happy
with how I've done, I was hoping to get 3 good lifts
but just missed out on my 2nd. I'm pleased to clear
93kg, overall it was an amazing atmosphere, brilliant.”

William Blake the Scientist of Art

A scientist is suppose to do 
A scientific work 
And develops science 
For the betterment of mankind 

His contribution is treasured 
And venerated by all 
As he pushes up our knowledge 
On matter and life 
By leaving a legacy of 
Much better method and technique 

A poet is not in any way less 
If he is like William Blake 
And develops the branch of poetry 
Like a branch of science 

His method and technique 
Push up the art of writing poetry to a height
Equal to the invention of nuclear energy 
By the scientists  

To have a chain of reactions 
You need not any nuclear materials 
As his poetry is enough to set your mind 
To work like a reactor 

Inventions in the craft of writing poetry 
Centuries after centuries 
What mankind fails to achieve
In laboratories of art he invented those 
Like a scientist.

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