Creativeness Poems | Examples

South Bank Centre

Nestled among the shining peaks
of flashing glass and girded steel,
gilded mansions enjoyed by sheiks;
who queue for nearby Ferris wheel;
near Parliament’s Gothic seat,
Shakespeare’s Elizabethan Globe,
It sits, grey, brutal, pure concrete
shameless without a cladded robe.
It’s naked beauty clads itself
around creativeness within.
I am it shouts, I am myself
without a falsifying skin.
With jutting angles, edges hard,
it’s beauty is more honest than
the Pickle, Telephone, or Shard
I will forever be a fan.

Nurturing Nature of Mother

calling upon her
light of the day
dark of the night
with change of any season
relationship of any kind
happy or sad
crying or laughing
lying or sitting
whole or broken

dwells within me
accepts me as I am
listens without judgement
replenish my depleted soul
nourish my imbalance body
heal my fragmented heart
reboots my scatter mind
revitalize my creativeness
nurtured me throughout my journey


gifted with her beauty
growing with her grace
created with her resilience
equipped with her communications
stored with her wisdom
bestowed upon with her love
beheld with her memories
strong with her strength
still with her peace

Who Am I

So, who am I?  A woman with a soul
that honors God- and feeds my artful role.
Creativeness set in from a young start
to capture life through poetry and art;
with vivid words or strokes of brush- my goal
to image well- life's beauty as a whole.

Born to observe, then transfer to technique;
let thoughts on paper- or on canvas speak
my sights in oils or rhythmic words that rhyme-
moved by my soul and spirit paradigm.
Pray gifts portrayed will honor God's mystique-
and shared with some to savor and critique.

Faul is as faul does

I crave the creativity of imagination
Conceiving an idea that excites the idle soul
To toil it for value and purpose
As Aristotle intended it to be.
But waiting for the time to do 
Limits the glory of accomplishment
As the idea rots in an imagined grime.
But to strike beyond this negligence of my apparent talent
Could my purpose come to fruition
And creativeness oozes its milk and honey.
Let me seek the sage in my troubled soul
To defeat the self-inflicting inquisitor  
Plaguing the catalyst of my destiny to prosper.

Blossom In Snow

I have seen the fire blossom in snow
on the Himalayan peak
wondrous meteoric dust
rise in hymnal flames

Rode on shoulders of snowy giants
on heights untrod by human feet
bathed in mighty energies
released by countless contemplating seers

Erect they sit in hurricane and hailstorm
fortified by the valor of spirit
exerting hard to safeguard the cultural treasure
the time capsules embalmed in the racial memory

Light-bearing is the language of all creativeness in Art
the pan-human tongue, which every one understands
a peaceful all-unifying stream that flows in every heart
as the vehicle of the creative light into all recesses of life.

(Yayati poem)

Author: Madan Gandhi.

Screaming Bards of Mu Mu Land

life it seems
is not without its irony
for the screaming bards 
of Mu Mu Land

.. on lounging chairs
.. on deep-piled rugs
.. just laying round
.. reciting verse

.. my bards were still
.. and known to all
.. in whispered words
.. as mild as mauve 

and when they showed me to the door
I could sense within 
creativeness 
the un-ravelling of their pain

Seclusion An Open Form

SECLUSION
observed
patterns
 transcribed
in
creativeness
&the
reception
 in paradoxes
o
literal
originality

quality
fragmented
with
mandatory
fidelity
inwith
the
existence
to
preserve
a
 willingness
 undertaken
in
textual
      alternate
deviation

Rainy Days

Those stormy, rain-filled days can sadness bring-
   since sunny ones are known to be the best.
And yet, those brighter spans, to which we cling,
   may sometimes fail that day's creative test.

For, when those sun rays paint a brand new day,
   we're lured to venture out to take things in.
External joy is felt and stored away; 
   our minds are closed to what lies deep within.

But, dark and cloudy rain-filled days present
   that special time to visit inner views;
with no distractions in our mind's descent,
   we stir creativeness- which clouds our blues.

Yes, solitude- at home on rainy days-
   helps the uncluttered mind to fully blaze.


November 6, 2022

Contest: Inspiring Rainy Days
Sponsor: Sotto Poet

Figments of One's Imagination

Figments of one's imagination  transformations and inconsistent dreams postponed images of one's  mind's eye.
Creativeness and non realities  of one's
imagination a fairy tale, a made up story?
Passions and inquisitiveness into existence 
being bearing  and imaging it into actuality and
materalization figments of one's imagination

Just Me: Part 2, Sitting On the Shelf

Just Me: Part 2, Sitting on The Shelf

I am just me.
That's all I am.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
I am me!

Who else could I be?

But me. 
No one else I want to be.
But me.

And I then.
But what am I?
I only believe it to be.
No one else in me. 
But I you see, I.

Seeing this:
Can you see,
In this life, being me.
I live indeed in reality.

Sitting over there:
I'm up on the shelf.
Right there, write I. 
I said to myself.

I'm the writer, 
So, why am I sitting on the shelf?
My experiences in which passed.
I, a writer, usually write about,
Events that are shadowed hence. 

I'll try to write, 
The once-shared write, 
I've written right.

The writing I have done,
It's made me who I've become.
I, today that's me, a writer.

Don't ask me: 
Why this writing I must write.
But, if I'm mistaken, 
Then, this writer will be right.

Edited: 01/09/2023, 10:00 AM (EST)

Voodooed By You

You stab at my manufactured beatless heart,
and tear off my tattered burlap textile.
Puncturing the weakened breath from my tight lungs.
To you, I’m just a naked doll’s unsexed part,
while enduring revenge pain for your feigned love.
Taking mock death with a bent smile from the start. 
Your list grows longer, my devotion stays true.
Our creativeness shown like expensive art.
Sharp pins and needles make me feel worthwhile,
from the tight breath puncturing my weakened lungs. 
Us two, hand-in-hand, this world we must depart. 


Contest Name: A New Abracadabra Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor Name: Emile Pinet
Style: Rhyme (Abracadabra)
Date: April 14, 2021

A Flame About Bum High

D'ya know what burns this guy's ass
A flame about bum high sometimes ignites the gas
An explosion follows closely
The odour is quite grossly
For creativeness I go to the head of the class

Don'T Be Discouraged

We tend to dwell on what we are not,
And fail to notice that which we've got.

You've talents and skills that you haven't tried,
Abilities that others have tried to belie;

Skills and strengths, imagination,
Creativeness, determination,

So many reasons to believe,
That we can actually achieve,

The things of which we've always dreamed,
Those things are closer than they seem.

In fact it's practically guaranteed,
You have it in you to succeed.

Preparation is the key.
Don't try to grasp all that you see.

One goal at a time, don't be in a hurry,
And you can avoid un-needed worry.

It's a lot of hard work and you'll feel like a drone;
But you just keep on keepin' on.

A Flame About Bum High

D'ya know what burns this guy's **** (donkey)
A flame about bum high sometimes ignites the gas
An explosion follows closely
The odour is quite grossly
For creativeness, I go to the head of the class

Necessity Is the Mother of Invention

Necessity is the mother of invention

Leave us to our creativeness
Cos our necessity 
Is our drive 

We he nothing to lose 

Yes nothingness means 
Something 
Were necessity is obvious

So leave us to our creativeness
Cos is obvious you can save 
Us from our foolishness 


Our deformity 
Was from your failures

And now your lack of 
Leadership is obvious
To the world 

So leave us to our creativeness
Let our time be the beginning
Of a chance of our old 
Era 

Our necessity is obvious
To the world 
So leave us alone 
We are  pregnant for an invention
From the womb of the necessity
Your impregnated through your 
Failed leadership

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