Short Ars Poetica Poems
Short Ars Poetica Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Ars Poetica by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Ars Poetica by length and keyword.
Her plane’s a poem
that dissolves its words behind it
as it flies,
an ars poetica
that takes its chances on blue sky.
Yeah Right
If poetry is so easy to write,
drop a Choka, tercet, or a quatrain slight.
So remember the rules and keep things tight,
let’s see how easy it is to get right.
By
Josehf Lloyd Murchison
Archibald MacLeish 'ARS POETICA'
E E
M P
A
H G
S I
who are you?
I am the burning night
look into my crimson eyes
you want to know me,
take my hand,
I won't hurt you yet
show me where you live,
is it in a poem or a sieve
you fill with bourbon from a jar
hiddee hole beneath the bathroom drain?
are you ars poetica
or are you destined to expire at midnight
shoeless in the rain?
I ask again........
who are you?
I create. And it's more than just
words that rhyme, if I could I'd
write all the time.
I can make words fly or crawl
beg her back, amuse you all.
I build ships that sail the ocean
or fly up to the moon. I help you
feel the wind or help you hear
the greeting of the loons.
I create. And it's more than just
words that rhyme, if I could I'd
write all the time.
an ARS Poetica form ©SamHarty
After Raymond Carver’s “Bankruptcy”
Thirty-seven, trick shoulder &
a sultry appetite still (exempt)
I wait for you
impatiently (exempt still)
listening to the towels tumble
as my hairy belly moans:
we are rebounds
to true pleasure.
Forgive us, (I pray in enormity)
our reckless improvidence.
Today, my heart, like the front door,
awaits unlocked
for the first time in years.
A poem should be smooth and flat
As a jagged rock
A poem should wander
As well as be expected
Wandering through a mind
Still minding it's own business
A poem should laugh and cry
As we wade through tiered rivers
A poem should drown us
As we take in breath
Liquid life forming gills
Filtering our bottled fear
A poem should be intoxicating
As cutting as a broken glass
I'm not sure if I understand the form but I gave it a go.
Form:
you say I am a poet
I tell you I am nothing
you say I craft words
I tell you I build nothing
you look confused
imagine how I feel
that with a mere smile
the raise of an eyebrow
you push the words
right onto me
that's right
don't you see now
I am your paper
you are 1000 words
waiting to be written
100 feelings
waiting to be had
I lay myself bare to you
an empty page
just awaiting the
spill of your ink.
©SamHarty
A poem is like the ripples in a pond,
As the muted sound.
Like the reflection of the sun on an aluminum foil,
As the muddy soil.
Like a rain drop,
Dry as the desert crop.
Like the myriad colors in a shaft of light,
As the imagination takes flight.
Motionless like the shifting sand,
As a marauding band.
Like the glimpse of a familiar face in a milling crowd,
As the flash of lightning in a foreboding cloud.
It should grab you like a snare
As a shooting flare!
Sitting,
Alone and uninspired
Ruminating on my throne
Of the tired
Freezing,
My heater, broken and retired
In a building whose condemnation
Remains desired
Searching,
For some deeper, elaborated meaning
To a poem procrastinated
A cause for my demeaning
Sulking,
I lack muse and direction
I can only imagine the forthcoming drear
Of this poem’s lection
Drinking,
My hot chocolate keeps me company
As I mull over this poetry
And choose a word that rhymes only subtley