Some are written to tug at heart strings;
Some are written to tickle funny bones;
Some are written as romantic love themes;
Some are written about being all alone.
Diversity is my objective;
Creativity, my artistic aim;
I am just your regular average Joe,
With no credentials or writing fame.
I hide behind the mantra
That I write simply to please myself;
Not admitting out loud to anyone,
Dreams of poems adding to my wealth.
There are many others out there
Who behave just like me;
Pouring their souls into rhyming words
And calling it poetry.
Very few will be successful
And achieve wide acclaim,
But lacking recognition
We’ll all keep writing just the same.
So I’ll keep creating average poetry,
By a regular, average Joe,
And hang on to my day job,
But of my dream I won’t let go.
These days my mind is a blank page.
This dreary weather offers no inspiration.
I dream of sun and warm sand on toes
And having fun in a far off destination.
I need some heat in my body and soul.
Someone to revive the spirit within me.
Too long I've lived under these overcast skies.
I long for the spring to set my heart free.
I wish for romance to blossom in spring.
To renew my soul with the budding new season.
It's time for some changes in life and attitude.
I've let this gloomy weather affect my reason.
A mental shake I will give myself,
No longer blame the weather for the state of my mind.
Around the corner spring is waiting for me
And just maybe a special someone, I will find.
My writing has been on a shelf for days now.
The pen left idle with nothing to do
But I need to dust it off and focus my mind
On lifting my spirits, start writing anew.
Don't much like poetry
just can't see what purpose
poems are supposed to serve.
Why all the hype
about similies and metaphors
and iambic pentameter?
Or trying to rhyme
each and every cursed line
to describe an object
or a place or action
in flowery descriptive words
doesn't seem very realistic,
just overly idealistic.
It is quite an ordeal,
can't begin to express
just how I feel
having to compose
a poem that to me
just doesn't have a purpose!
A little explanation about this! Haven't suddenly turned anti-poetry ... This was the very
first poem written by me, at university for a writing course. At the time, I was miffed at
having to write a poem, something I despised at the time. Had no idea what to write, even
after a week, and with just a few hours to spare, finally came up with this poem...about
hating poetry. It is so hilarious to find myself many years later, writing poetry...and loving it!
As darkness falls, strange and eerie things begin...
Maybe it's the alcohol consumption, for something happens to my writing pen
A flame of dark blue engulfs the pen in my shaking hand
Deja vu happens all over again and a picture frame falls from the night stand!
My head starts to spin and I close my eyes, hoping the dizziness will stop
The sin within becomes harder to disguise and down my cheek rolls a tear drop
A metamorphosis starts to take place and I see inside me, the raging energy
I feel the anguish, upon my face and emerging from obscurity comes my dark
poetry!
Like the color of hot blood, the ink becomes dark red
The sentences have begun to flood like written bloodshed!
Stanzas formulate and I concentrate on what I see in my mind's eye
My pen don't hesitate as I decapitate this poetic samurai!
I know I'm out to annihilate any foe that crosses my spiritual plane
The ink illuminates, setting this pad aglow and another poet is slain!
My writing pad catches fire as I commit the last barbaric homicide
The flames burn bright as sapphire distinguishing my poetic dark side...
*Visit me on MySpace, FaceBook and Poetry Pub (Jimmy M. Anderson)
*****"Ink Raindrops" would be the title of my poetry book. It would contain poems about my
journey in life, the lives I've touched, and how I would like to perceive life in general, all
intertwining it with how writing has been a part of my life, so much like rain...
*****my favorite senryu in that book would have to be...
dreaming, writing soul
a wanderer by nature...
raindrops follow me
*** for Linda's poetry book contest :)
That's what writing is
A gift from God
Expressing one's heart
Being a poet is getting your very first start
Whether you write books, poems or articles
It's all the same
But watch out
Because you just might seek fame
Using your gift will help the world
Your writing will up lift many
So enjoy the moment
Of a life of plenty
Remember though to always keep God first
If you don't your life may be worse
Writing is a busy task
One that's difficult to do
But if you have faith in God
He'll give you the strength to
Continue to let the words flow
Whether they come out fast or slow
This creative art is one of a kind
Flowing gently from the heart and the mind
By: Donielle Smith
I have trouble writing in free verse
As though my Minds stuck in reverse
Every time I think of a rhyme
It is defiantly writing time
That’s something that will cause a stump
The rhythm can’t go bumpity bump
I am a simple country girl
Few fancy words go in the whirl
Not ignorant or uneducated
Just to my life style dedicated
I write from what is in my heart
Experiences that I played a part
Of faith and love and family
The things in life that we all see
The end result will be of my best
Anything less isn’t worth your request
It took me longer get Microsoft word open
than it took for me to get my first line typed
Approximately 3-4 minuses from start to finish
but I type 24-30 per minute due to physical
and visual handicaps
My poetic life will be inspiring,
After the death of this poet.
I have been writing for years,
For the one’s who don’t know it.
My contributions to the writing world,
Will endure generations to come.
As I flow the words from my heart,
To let people know where I’m from.
Writing is my passion, it’s therapeutic,
And my vent from the hardships of life.
I take my notepad with me to jot down,
The things that inspire me to write.
The world’s beautiful to the eye,
I seldom pass a moment to observe.
I’ve written thousands of poems,
Please accept my donation of words.
The beauty of writing is
not knowing which words will
stumble gracefully across the pages
which sounds thoughts ideas
will find themselves inscribed on paper
or palms where seven digits can
connect two souls 'til they entwine
my inclination is calling writing a religion
preach that to congregations like
"and so it was written"
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.