O, dear poetry, how old are you?
give me a glimpse, The Story of Sinuhe
the art just might predate literacy,
before the birth of the written word, BCE
Tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor the eldest fictious
the Epic of Gilgamesh on papyrus
the world’s oldest love poems, verselets
Homer’s ancient epics
Compositions made for spoken word
I finally found out from all I’ve heard
what my dear poetry means to me
the love of artistic lyrical spontaneity
learning of words using them expressively
or impressively, excessively, whatever it takes
with poetic license, there are no mistakes
Works that lead to electric elucidation
with rhythmic flow, meter and alliteration
my primo priority is; my poem pieces make sense,
with rhyme and my love for classic cadence
having the quality of amatory ambiguity,
steered adrift with ominous obscurity
strapping images of suggestive metaphors
I’ll write to inspire as do the troubadours…..
Let eyes meet eyes, be it mirror or pond,
On own image mirage-like crazy go,
For, today’s youth has grown to be nigh fond
Of self, lessons of Narcissus or no.
Let the English lexicon celebrate
Words which the Greek epics gave -- a long list:
Mentor is one, Medea--- Odysseus’ mate,
Panic from their god Pan, and Narcissist.
The last, a tale of extreme self-regard.
Today’s wars wage, for, we think but of us,
And scarce the green garden of others guard,
Why? Narcissus loves only Narcissus,
The world is surfeit with the tales of narc,
The rest as empaths whilst passively hark.
_____________________________
Tongue-in-cheek | 11.08.2026 | adventure, epic, love, odyssey/journey, self, Sonnet
Note: ‘The Narcissus’ in two parts I am trying to expand into a full Crown of Sonnets in seven parts, if I can.
My brain is racked!
Beside me, a tower of comic books is stacked -
House of X and Powers of X, fresh from the Box -
the epic stories of HOX and POX.
Inside my head, I feel an awful pain -
if I only had a mutant brain!
Then I could read and understand
the story of Krakoa island -
but then, humans will never cease
to war against mutants, and let them live in peace.
So, if I were a mutant, I wouldn't admit it,
and if you think I'm one, please forget it.
Let's just say, I'll put these words in code,
so Nimrod won't catch me on the mutant road,
a path of water on the sea,
to Krakoa, the place that's meant for me.
One day our people will learn to live again,
and keep all our memories and then
mutants like me will all be off the hook
cuz we'll remember every comic book.
I’ve believed in those epics of Love, moments when a man’s mind drifts away from the noise of the outer world and wants only to listen to his beloved — that quiet, tingling sensation in the stomach.
Love doesn’t ask for your attention. It crashes into you, sudden and unapologetic, and before you understand what’s happening — boom — you’re lovestruck. You’re already there.
Love comes first, and then comes the woman, like a butterfly resting on your fingertips. You cannot hold her when you want to; you find her instead, in the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. And somehow, without resistance, you find yourself wrapped around her fingers.
Love, of all things, is what makes you feel a kiss on the cheek that no one placed there. She closes your eyes and opens your heart. She holds your hand just firmly enough to lead you into utopia — a darkness only to the ordinary world.
You will be called a madman. But it is the world that is truly maddened, cursed by its inability to realise that Love resides in a woman — often unheard.
Zin Uru, I Am Ever Of Light
So High Above, like a Heathen of the Night
where the Stars they run, there I take Flight
my Soul Glistens Erudite,
Through Hymns and Quatrains, I Sing Songs
Through Valor and Courage, the Forge of Psalms
Through Epics and Fortitudes, I Carry On
Torch in Hand, I Illumine Strong
Where Diadems they Glisten, no words are Sung
there Heaven has Risen, Under The Sun
and a Great Hymn is Heard, Ever Beyond
where the Celestial makes the Sacred Bond,
Up High, Into the Fetters of Night
I Gleam Electric Like,
I Beam in Rays of Gold and Violet Light
Cuz I'm So Illumined Bright,
Far Beyond the Doors Of Perception
Into the Emerald Gates Of Intercession,
where Dreams become Realms of Greater Things
It Seems, To Be, in Celestial Blessings
and Yes, The Only Way Out, Is Up Indeed
Take Heath, through the Passage Of Sovereignty
where Kings and Queens, take Steeds, To The Sun
and by The Higher Way, find the Omnipotent One
Appears a mysterious land from far,
Dream of vermilion sky at mystic dawn
Prayers heard from boats on holy river,
Mythical chants floating in consciousness.
My birthplace - ancient city reminding
Of vedas and epics, saints and hermits,
A land of literature, poetry,
Music, art, picturesque architecture...
For thousands of years verses flow in air
land of Kalidasa and Valmiki.
**
In realms of mind, where fancy roams,
Imagination's wings take flight.
No logins, no fees, it's at your call,
A boundless tapestry of dreams, so tall.
With nimble fingers, AI's embrace,
Guides your thoughts, enhances every trace.
From sonnets sweet to epics grand,
Your inspiration, it'll gently hand.
With options vast, your vision's free,
Customize your verse with artistry.
Rhyme or rhythm, meter or flow,
Your imagination's embers glow.
your words with ease,
Spread your creations like a gentle breeze.
From whispers to shouts, let your voice soar,
In the digital realm, forevermore.
So let your mind explore, without refrain,
With Imagination's AI, your dreams will reign.
Free from constraints, your thoughts take flight,
In a symphony of words, bathed in light.
Bee Happy
With Blondebee Humble was always searching,
Forever looking for the answers;
But with Bee Bee it was easy learning,
He already knew she was his enchantress.
At last Humble knew what it was to bee loved.
Bee Bee, he knew, was truly good.
Life seemed so easy now with her heart.
He couldn’t beelieve the struggle had been so hard.
Every day they grew with each other.
First came the kiss and now they were lovers.
Forever bound to love eternal.
Epics would bee written in endless journals.
Humble wrote poetry; Bee Bee wrote stories.
Each of them spoke of despair and glories.
They loved to tell tales and in each other found home.
They were two parts of one heart; no longer alone.
Their journey together had just beegun,
But already had passed many moon’s and sun’s,
And at the end of each day they lay together.
They fell asleep holding hands, like his father and mother.
Humble thought back to when he had first thought about love.
Never beelieving it could bee so good,
But at last he had found what his parents had.
In Bee Bee he had found a love that he knew would last.
(C)2020 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
In the realm of timeless verse and thought,
Where poets' dreams and visions wrought,
Lies a world of beauty, untold,
In the finest poems, hearts unfold.
Each crafted line, a work of art,
A masterpiece from a poet's heart,
Words like music, flowing free,
Echoes of truth in harmony.
In sonnets, ballads, epics grand,
Wonders of language at their command,
Capturing moments, emotions raw,
In the finest poems, awe and flaw.
Through metaphors and vivid scenes,
Poets weave intricate, complex themes,
Unveiling truths with gentle grace,
In the finest poems' sacred space.
Emotions penned in ink and sighs,
Echoes of laughter, tears, and sighs,
In each stanza, a world anew,
In the finest poems, souls imbue.
So let us revel in poetic lore,
In the finest poems, always more,
For in these words, we find our kin,
And a universe within
I AM a Warrior, I AM a King
I AM a Soul of Sovereignty,
I AM a Champion, I AM Unique
I AM a Product of my Beliefs,
I AM a Conqueror, I AM Pristine
I Rise Upright Spiritually,
I AM a Solar Zenith, I AM Divine
I AM a Touchstone Apex of Empyreal Light,
I AM the Epitome of Glory, Royal by the Fire
I AM a Solar Storm, Burning Ever-Brighter
Golden by the Virtues, Heroic by the Blood
I AM Triumphant, Sound the Trumpets and Drums
New Year Same Quest, I AM Resilient
I AM Persistent, I AM Ebullient
Never Ceasing, I AM Perpetual
Ever-Enduring, Ever-Unconventional
Against the Grain up the Mountain Tops
Ascending Peaks like a Juggernaut,
I AM a Paragon
I AM a Luminous Phenomena,
Forging Epics on this Quest Like...
I AM Iron Legend, like Ancient Times
A time of togetherness
with entire family.
The unwrapping of presents
under Christmas tree.
My father telling stories
about to birth of Jesus.
Christmas Eve trips to the store
accompanying Mom.
My relatives visiting
and I'd join them in singing
popular Christmas carols;
wondrous memories!
Pining for a white Christmas;
sometimes going to movies
or driving around with Dad.
Oh, those were fun times!
Watching biblical epics,
especially "King of Kings."
The first time I saw Santa
I'll never forget!
Cage & Ligeti comprise a musical pair
experimentalist artistes with rare flair
Simplistic sounds expressed in numerics
silence & metronome monotony epics
Lawrence Alma-Tadema
Greco- roman his genre crema
Paintings like Hollywood epics
with delightful tricks
"Oh' What should I call you
my darlings letters gather
O'together with all of you
sisters and brothers what
what is and what are that
So the shape of things to
O'Come words rhyming in
designing to make a poem
So in this chosen verse this
form first a poem of words
structure patterns waves
-strictest rule links rhythm
rhyme what is poetry form
I am a blank line of precise
meter that does not rhyme
O' poetic thought that I am
rhymed poetry I am but of a
A Free Verse sometimes full
So of Epicsa Narrative poem
Might be Haiku Pastoral poet
Master rhyme and schemes
So words come off the paper
The form of the letters word
O'so intermix affix rhyming nix
Oh! darling forms me a poem..
--Read on as I drop this Rhyme
Words inspiring spiraling down"
3/5/22
For Brian Strand Form Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
My pleasure is in creating my own mythology.
I have read the saga's, the legends the great epics,
and they have made a garden for my spirit to walk in,
yet, they are the 'other' stories, ones told for so long now
they seem like the often played grooves
in an old vinyl record.
Better to unfold my own myths, better to believe
and speak boldly of impossible things,
for only the impossible can be transformed.
I am a story, you are a story, why tell those tales
in any stale or pedestrian way when we can
reveal a new parable of truth, make it fly?
The new legends are waiting to be narrated;
they are imagined collectively or dreamt of
in a dream within a dream.
Remember, words are symbols of symbols,
there is a power in every poet and story-teller
that cannot for long live in the dark.
Your visionary flowers need sunlight, your legend
waits for your heroic self to publish you.
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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.