When ideas are locked in a cage,
The bot frees poetry of its rage,
Like analgesics on a fresh wound—
A turbulent sea where pains are drowned.
The goal’s not to write, but to refine,
To make each rhythm, form, and word align;
Quick to shape poems to perfection,
Bringing finesse to art’s reflection.
Yet its pen drips with glib emotion,
It revels in stale, putrid notions,
It loots old clichés in broad daylight,
With its spies embedded on every site.
It hums in all ears with tone-deafness,
For its inkwell is void of freshness;
From the poems of the past it steals,
And copyright claims trail its cold heels.
Far better—a creative ally,
With clear, firm bounds to which all comply—
Than crowned as a human replacement,
Or seeking the poet’s mind displacement.
innate aliveness pulsates
renewing soul’s creative urge
inspirations inflow by resonance
heart radiates bliss beats upsurge
all of creation then is a collaboration
between the soul and the universe
no entity can claim authorship
over the final emoted verse
Science may surpass mankind
And the universe
But even with an x-ray
We see only the organs and the skeletons
We can't see any truths and logics
But with a book of religion
We will gradually see with our naked eyes
And the book is copyright
No one can pirated
No one can stain
Science may surpass mankind
And the universe
But even with an x-ray
We see only the organs and the skeletons
We can't see any truths and logics
But with a book of religion
We will gradually see with our naked eyes
And the book is copyright
No one can pirated
No one can stain
History of a country
Will not be copyright
And forced to make an alteration
Whenever a big mistake is found
As it's so controversial
But the words of God are flawless and copyright
We can't change them
Neither the words nor the meanings
Don't ever misread and misinterprete them
Follow the words and teachings of God sincerely
Sincerity deep in the heart and soul
Is better than
Worshipping with ignorance or careless interpretation
Sometimes people like to change their meanings
Because of greeds and selfishness
Until they forget
God's words are copyright forever
I made a bargain at the crossroads
With that conman we all know.
He might think he’s sealed the deal,
But he’ll never get to spirit me below.
For when he comes to claim his prize
At the fading of the final light,
He’ll find a book of poems
Where my soul used to be,
And I’d made no deal
To sell the copyright.
THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR
OLD NICK
I
Love in a time of Corona is best
Expressed between a loyal couple
We have time on our hands, rest
Cannot be overdone, neither should sex (Love-makin')
II
Love in a time of Corona is wisest
In your private premises; stay away from exotic places
Keep it simple, keep it humble (Humble? you ask) -
"There will be time enough for exotica, places and races."
III
Love in a time of Corona will pass, and then
Will you have great memories? A foretaste of retirement?
We are blest when we have a loyal love, Christian even,
And Fate has given us time - for catching up, prayer, enjoyment
IV
Now, if you easily pass the test, of humble home-rest
Will you go beyond borders? Pray for others less blessed?
Even those foes ("the enemy,") for the children's sake?
I, for one, surprised myself, by blessing my teachers, professors ....
D-ivine
E-xpression's
N-oble
N-ote
I-s
S-cribed
D-enoting
E-ssence
O-f
C-opyright
A-s
L-aw
E-mploys
S-tatute
Topic: Birthday of Dennis Deocales (April 12)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
WORD FOR TODAY: COPYRIGHT
Never make a business decision because a Partner is FORTHRIGHT
Ensure that all the right boxes tick; and the conditions are ALRIGHT
It is not wise to claim exclusivity of an idea because of BIRTHRIGHT
Ensure you talk to the experts, especially in the areas of COPYRIGHT
Such matters are delicate and are not related to any HUMAN-RIGHT
Pirates are merciless; selfish; vision killers; anything but UPRIGHT
© Wole Popoola 2016
I don`t care at all what you do with my poems....
you can steal them,laugh at them or cut them up to make blackmail letters for your boss,you can eat them or smoke them ( as long as you bake them for two
hours in an oven),you can sing them in the toilet,kiss them, spray them on a wall
in the underground in Berlin,burn them,cover them with paint, leave them at midnight in front of a poem orphanage,or make love to them on the backseat of
an old Ford.
you can even ( if you have nothing better to do) read them..
and I hope one day my poems will grow up
and run about the park on a Summer evening.
Creativity in the soul
Obsession for goal
Passion in the heart
You have a start
Relax in the mind
Inner strength defined
God in the thought
Help is never sought
Think clear, No fear
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.