Poets and Poems | Examples of Poems for Poets

Sometimes poetry

Sometimes it seems that 
Poetry is like fiddling
While the world burns,
But I am glad I know about the 
Lemon trees in all the
Places of the world. 

Trancelike Dream

I don’t want to 
Submit myself 
To flashing ads 
And transient script 
From a digital screen, 
I want to hold a real book, 
Lose myself in its pages, 
In a trancelike dream.

Fun Marathon Poetry Inspired By Robert Frost

Two roads diverged on the marathon course
And obviously I couldn’t travel both
And neither were they clearly marked
So I took the one I thought was best
And now I’m far behind the rest

Brian Bilston's Breviloquence

Don't have to be a sleuth

To find ample proof 

 A well worn trampled truth

That to besmirch 

Not be kind

On a pedant’s perch

Scorn and be aloof 

Is quite simply uncouth


Snooty snotty sniffy 

In a jiffy drives me potty

The spiffy getting iffy

You've gotta be pithy

Must be dotty


Semantic severity

Temerity to stifle

Getting a trifle squiffy

Like a lush

Quaffing &

Dead Poets Society

Dead Poets Society 
Right to choose 
Rebellious youth 
No hesitation to voice your own opinion 
“Carpe Diem” (seize the day) 
Unorthodox teachings 
Literature and a master piece 
Paper writer polished 
Ray of light, you only live once 
Timeless poetry 
Show your own identity 
Know who you are 
Stand up for what you believe in 
Dead

Today Is National Bad Poetry Day

That is right August 18,
Today Is National "Bad" Poetry Day.
To all the writers,
here is your chance.
Write something "Great,"
for the world to read.
How about, 
National "Great" Poetry Day???

Remember a rhyme is to rhyme, 
not kind of rhyme. 
A Limerick is to be a five line funny,
not sad or depressing.

A true writer,
writes from their loving and creative heart.
AI writes,
but has no

The Whispering Begins

Boitumelo knelt where no one stood, His hands soaked deep in healing wood. He was not king, nor sought the seat, Just guardian to the village beat.
He'd lived in stillness, left the blade, His spear long buried, peace now made. But winds had shifted, drums were tight, The air grew thick with unseen fight.
A child

Echo and Narcissus retelling Ovid's the Greek poets account

    Oh Echo why, did she beguile.
    Queen Hera with loquacity.
    Thou mountain nymph whose winsome smile
    Did mask Zeus from complicity
    With sylvan nymphs, his sole desire.
    Those dalliances once revealed
    Set jealous

Fun Marathon Poetry Inspired By Basho

water puddle 
marathoners running
soaked sneakers squishing

Fool's Errand

I wonder after his black spectacles,
if I could recognize his phantom's scare
by his bandy left foot, something he'd wear:
constrictor turtlenecks, cowboy buckles
his trials decided by flayed knuckles
his tombstone eyes, the depth of night they bear.
I wonder at the factors of his fear
as I adorn him with cherry jewels.

Your bass breathes, haply, the contents of love;
it

Love Sun

Your love is like the sun, shining bright every day, making my heart warm and giving me a feeling of sweet embrace. 
Forever love, your love is felt, today and always, you're in my heart.

Poets seem ill advised

By just one sharp look if she dares, defies,
You still call a woman vulnerable, 
And casts lethal darts with enticing eyes.
Sure, as poets you seem inscrutable,
When conquer can she e’en gods heavenly,
How helpless, wonder I can she e’er be.
_____________________________ 
Translation (sestet*) | 22.08.2025 | poets, women 
*Wonder, if it can be called a Sestetto Rima--

SSRI

Why do I have to choose between a pill for my sanity and my sexual desire? 
I don’t want to feel ashamed for going weeks or months with no desire. 
I want to be affectionate. 
I want to be intimate. 
I want to want.

Poe

He mourned the loss of his love, for whose support his soul’s survival had come to desperately rely: Lenore!~ the only one less judgmental of his irrational, often self-destructive, passionate nature; who had committed herself loyally to embracing and nurturing Poe's celebratory poetic genius.  Oh!~his tormented heart yearned, hopelessly seeking the peace, rest, comfort,

In ghazal all my thoughts I pen cannot

In ghazal all my thoughts I pen cannot,
All I know, in plain words explain cannot.

There be many a thing I do abhor,
All that is worth my hate, disdain cannot.

Quite often in life I show my dislike,
But when it comes to pen I feign cannot.    

I well can call a spade, as all

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