My steps sketch themselves in charcoal on this sunlit path.
My brushes lose their way upon the open canvas of life.
Shadows are rare this morning, and yet still awaited.
A white merges with the vast blue of the sky in a blessed instant.
Creation is an alchemy that opens the gates of paradise.
The palette, a deep breath unfolding its wings of color.
Poetry, the blender of life’s hues, shapes a shelter.
Letting these sparks of brightness slip away warms the heart.
Feeling a breeze of emotions invade us then fade.
Performing a light and steady gesture that touches the heart.
Weaving a cloth of colors to finally watch it soar.
Opening the sky to the vibrations of the purest sounds is flattering.
Perceiving a silence laying its imprint as it withdraws.
Watching this universe of tones glide quietly toward the invisible.
Sensing this lesson unfold in a hesitant gesture.
To the arpeggio of light is bound what is born unspeakable.
— Joël Charvillat
My heart resonates to the language of poetry
where lines on a page are painted by degree.
Like an artist creating with his brush
vision and precision never must rush.
Poetry is a collage of well selected words
that promote freedom on wings of birds.
Poetry delivers a message in every stanza
be it a delicate subtlety or vivid extravanganza
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
If there were no one else
I, the only remaining inhabitant
If there were only me in the world
I would write poetry daily
At the moment I picked up ideas
they looked clear but they weren't
disappeared from my scope
well verses, no rhymes... nothing
, my work was useless
much to my astonishment...
poetry has its moment
It's a bird, a wandering lightning... !
How to understand poetry?
6 tips for interpreting poetry for...
1 Read the poem at least twice. ...
2 Identifythe figures of speech. ...
3 Don't let your opinion interfere with the interpretation. ...
4 Get to know the authors' lives briefly. ...
5 Keep in the habit of reading and interpreting poetry.
6 Don't have any prejudices
social, political and so on ... !
Least but not last, try to read every kind
poetry as much as possible and remember poetry is not prose, nor technical text... poetry is a dream, a spiritual flight... good luck my dear reader...!
La Danse de la Poesie
In writing poetry, a magical
happening occurs.
I completely lose track of
time, age and space.
And become a child of the
universe, the entirety of it all.
I can run, dance, make ravishing
love till dawn.
All ....if lost in a poem.
I can become whatever I want
to be.
And that, my friends, simply stated,
is the most dazzling and most delicate,
intricate, dance of poetry.
July 5, 2019
9:45pm PST
poesie slumbers
quietly breathing
swathed in white noise
deep in reverie
poesie trances
in an English garden
picture windows
take after an Anglian sky
poesie rolls over
on freshly cut grass
hedged in by Japanese Quince
the color of wild things waking
poesie sighs deeply
someone's pestering
a spiny shrub grows taller
a pond furthermore darkens
poesie tosses and turns
throws back the covers
lavender makes its entrance
into a parasoled cottage
poesie shivers
someone's cuddling
icy rain babbles against the leadlights
like a lot of raucous stones
poesie comforts
between loud mirth
and crushing sadness
fluffy visions inquire
poesie is awoken
drowsily recalling
a dream of a nightmare
a downy rousing to alertness
poesie rubs her eyes
yawns an aspiration
and utters a fact
the dream's gone too fast.
~~La Danse de la Poesie~~
The Dance of Poetry
A great dancer knows, the pain and practice
Of stretching, all the body, every limb.
A great dancer never disses a great dancer
as a lesser being.
I will never be a Baryshnikov with divine
style and grace.
I am lucky, if I get my feet in first place!
I am but a beginning poet, like a dancer who,
knows it's best to follow master poet's cues.
Without reading and knowing classic poetry,
I'm just a punk rock poet blowing my own horn.
at the poetry tree.
Dissing past masters as ignorant will in no
way improve my performance.
No, not in the least.
So if I want to tour jate or batmanteaue,to
fly with art across the page to you~
The classic poets, indeed will I read.
And never insult them as lesser than me.
That's cutting my own poetic brain and
not allowing the fullness of my growth
In this grand terrain, we call, poetry.
Panagiota Romios
4/17/2019
a
measure
without
undue
tenure,
a
process
to tend
to screen
to enclose
to corner...
....so fragile..
in the mist
of my
mind
adjectives with nouns,
that do not belong-
imagery
to make a little song..
...aloud
Don’t ever bare your soul,
Conceal your psyche’s role
Behind your metaphors and metric lines.
And don’t undress your heart,
Disguise the tragic part
It plays inside your poetry’s designs.
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.