Long On writing Poems
Long On writing Poems. Below are the most popular long On writing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long On writing poems by poem length and keyword.
Faved PoetrySoup poems, I've many a favorite
Are such a treasure trove of Joy
Each one so exquisite
I've many, but imagine, I'll have many, many more
I wish they could be bound in books
Purchased through a PS store!
Leaves of golden artistry of poets that I love
A little bit of heaven on earth
Like sunshine from above
I thought to name these poets, that have written
On my heart, but that would take
Me quite some time,
I don't know where to start!
Suffice to say, I'm blessed, I love this precious group
What treasure troves of blessings
These poems on PoetrySoup
Keep shining, keep on writing, your voices like a song
The aroma of sweet fragrance
Gently stirring all day long
For each new poem that's written, a gem within the sea
A gift of golden treasure is your
Precious poetry
My image shared is just a 'dream' book of sorts, an
idea of how it may be easy for PS to create a personalized
book of our favorite file poems from our dear PS poets.
My mother had an old empty scrapbook I inherited,
I applied the gold lettering just for an example.
Maybe Team Poetry could brainstorm an idea of this
sort, I think it would be wonderful. Anyway, just a thought.
<3
When Santa Claus came down my chimney, I thought he was a robber.
I grabbed my baseball bat and old Saint Nick got clobbered.
Santa had some compound fractures and he kept saying ouch.
I made his deliveries while he laid on my couch.
I climbed on my roof and got in his sled.
When I told the reindeers to fly, Prancer kicked me in the head.
I delivered the presents all around the world.
Because of me, there were a lot of happy boys and girls.
The next year I asked Santa for a new bowling ball because I love to bowl.
But when I checked my stocking, I saw that the fatso gave me a block of coal.
Form:
From the twilight of absolution - he spoke in cliché, the fantasy of living his dream
having seen and done all the things he ever hoped to see and do, in moderation.
Yet, moderation, in and of itself, can be self destructive to the inquisitive self within,
fortunately, that nagging search of perfection which we all deniably seek, ended
for him, as the questions affectionately died in the growing of a new relationship.
She answered in riddles, softly smiling, relishing the thought of his consternation
a long distance friendship involving a badminton-like banter of wordmanship
a decade of age separated their experiences, yet, it only enlivened the language,
in all likelihood, they would never meet, surely, he had been part of a past soul group?
Day by day, words pinged and ponged, hopefully, into cyberspace, infinity and beyond!
Poetic Collaberation By Charles Henderson & Debbie Guzzi
All by His grace;
Oh! God be praised;
And tanked for this;
Be praised ALWAYS;
Always be praising to God;
Oh, God be praised;
For all He does;
I give thanks for all He’s done;
May the Lord be glorified?
It's my prayer
One day I will (we will) be by His side;
On the sweet by and by;
All by His grace;
His mercies faced;
He saves me from my fate;
That I keep on writing poems and psalms that exalt God
All by His grace;
Oh! God be praised;
Be praised ALWAYS;
God be praised;
And thanked for this;
Glorified may the Lord be…
It’s my prayer that He keeps me;
For I’ll be writing poems and psalms
That exalt God for always;
For as long as I am on the earth;
All by His grace;
Oh! God be praised;
Be praised ALWAYS;
Always be praising to God;
Oh, God be praised;
For all He does;
All by His Grace;
All by His grace, thanks God bless you
9/19/19
dedicated verse to " Beata Agustin based on her words "
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. and Beata Agustin 2019©
Beata's words in Bold
From forthcoming anthology
“Inspired In boxed Word Write Collabs #1”
No funnier laughter
sounds like this laughter...
when its pitch vibrates as sound;
I may giggle at times, but I'm always kind!
Who will tackle me and make me laugh louder than clowns
by telling me those jokes you heard somewhere?
Were they told by travelers roaming cities and towns,
or were they written down on some rough paper?
Oh, humor you make life sumptuously grand...
when all one needs is the company of some friend!
Sit down and let's tell each other stories that satisfy our literary itch;
let's unearth stories of the famous and the infamous, of the humble and the rich!
No funnier laughter
is heard around the entire globe;
you may hurt your ear's lobe...
when I laugh harder than Cher!
Speak to my heart those words you hold inside
whether they are good or bad why must they hide?
"Let us out we need to breath," I hear them screaming
I wonder though at times if I am just dreaming
of the day you will truly express
your ideas and your true feelings you will confess...
Why do you close yourself off so much?
Why do you flinch and hide from my touch?
If the words run out and the world sees them all
wouldn't that be better than them tripping to fall?
Wouldn't you rather they have freedom to be
rather than being something that's fake just for me?
It's better to be real than to hide in disguise.
It's better to feel than to mask what you despise.
Unleash the bitter hounds to bark and to howl,
let them chase the wind and rip apart the fowl.
The point of it all is to let those words go
if you don't and you hold it in you will never know...
You will never know the freedom of give and take.
It's not something you can pretend or fake.
And those words you fear that will pierce a heart
sometimes have a different effect right from the start.
So take some time and think it all through
if it were me, I would be truthful to you.
Form:
Thursday, 2025.1.16
Happy birthday to my sister.
She turns a mile stone at the new corner.
Now she earns the title of being a senior.
Congratulations to you, my sister.
Congratulations to me too.
Today, I was introduced the Poetry's world.
I started to post my poems,
Few days later, my first piece of work,
Was listed in "This Week's Featured poems".
It was read by many viewers.
I was overwhelmed and flattered.
Initially, the poems were written,
To serve as my diary keeper.
Eventually, the writing got easy and easier.
I was glad, I met this poet,
Who I named "Mr Author",
He introduced me to the poetry's world,
Hopefully, I can continue on writing,
Post them all on the internet.
Thank you "Mr Author"
Thank you all the viewers.
It was all my pleasure.
Pieces of paper stached away
scibbles of a line or two
wanting words to dance in my vision
take flight and weave a poem
of utter delight
Thoughts appearing in my dreams
visions riding in my car.
gazing out at nature's wonders
watching televisions news
words dancing in my view.
I gather each piece of paper
put away with loving care
words would not have been saved
if they were not promonading to and fro
dancing freely inside my head .
I gather these word fragments
inspiration forms within
writing takes fanciful flight
a poem is then created
and dances as I write.
for Carol's contest
I'm looking for some inspiration
Can you direct me to the Inspiration Store?
Heard they've got some real good bargains
Great ideas never used before!
I don't often need to avail myself
Of this vital and humanitarian service
Been quite prolific in the last few years
But now I'm feeling a wee bit nervous!
It's five minutes before the midnight bell
I've come up dry all the day long
Utter panic has grabbed hold of my brain
Thinking suicide would be wrong!
There's other things besides poetry I'm told
On this great big old happy balloon
But none so addictive as rhyming and rhythm
It turns sane people into silly buffoons!
The Inspiration Store has saved many people
From utter and overwhelming despair
So I guess I'll do a search on Google Maps
Before I totally lose all my hair!
The Grandmasters of Poetica
Make the mass of us look small;
While I can’t speak for thee and they
I gladly take the fall.
From goodness grace,
That unfathomable place
Where Emerson begins and ends;
Who among us from cradle to dust
Comes even close to catching
Him?
With all his disguises
And Whitman’s surprises
Each time I pick up and read:
Song of My Measure
Gives me so much pleasure
I’m humbled
Right down to my knees.
What atmosphere of Shakespeare
Quintessential quill undefined;
Confounds and shatters everything that matters
In the Human, make that Divine.
Emily Dickinson, Sylvia Plath
Dear ladies of love – sorrow - pain,
Frost in the woods and everything good
From Thoreau to Stephen Crane.
Why even tarry,
To merge or marry
Anyofourthoughtwordeeds?
Because love is of pleasure
And this writing endeavor
Is as human as eyes to see.