Started Poems - Poems about Started

Just getting started

Just getting started 
Who left the lion free cos
God took away my sorrows 
Now I bounce back 
The love is obvious 
The feeling is clear
My heart is open 
Forward ever 
My soul is willing 
Their is no holiday for a poet 
Everyday is an inspiration 
The energy never mute 
Either do my frequency die 
One

The pen which started it all

I traipse my fingers delicately across spiralled letters of each written word and dated times 

The clumsily transitioned Thoughts are transferred on to pages full of Passion and expressive rhyme.

Splattered,stained and ink spilled journal, with it's torn ridge spine ,misspellings and crooked lines ,  

Reading the moment a daydreaming story teller and her poetic

It Started With A Promise

It Started With A Promise 



 

It started with a promise 
A sacred trust we made when we were young.
Through happiness and tragedy that 
Sacred bond enabled both of us to carry on.
Standing beside me with your hand in mine
You helped me face my darkest days,
And your promise you would stay by my side 
Forever

Who started?

One day I decided a book I wanted to write, 
,,Waiting on the back of the line" 
- pushing myself backwards.

But everything has to need sense set me of, 
writing structure is though.

It isn't natural to me.

Every Story aligns with me but it doesn't make sense, 
while people take the chance by grabbing the pen.

It's

The Towel in the Ring Started to Swing

  He threw the towel into the ring
    It bounced back up and started to swing
  Realizing he had no right to quit
    He pulled himself up and landed a hit…   

  He waved a white flag at the challenge, plain to see
 

Come Back And Finish What You Started

Looking back on when we were Young so long ago
It's so sad 
When I think of all the things we had
And magical things we used to do
Fate and providence Brought us together
Fate and providence tore us apart
I gave you the world
And you took my heart so true
Forever and ever it belongs to you
No one has

I've started wearing a wig in the car

It's thrilling
But so is this poem

I want to take up a most profound authority
Throughout the neighbourhood

A village pastor
And various pursuits of a similar kind

Give me my own planet
My own earf

Postmodernist scumbag
And cowboys from hell days

I want to hear the new Beyonce album
Between the buried and me

I am a cloud cuckoo lander
And wear a wig when

It Started With A Blank Canvas

The master artist stroked with his brush of beneficence
The canvas relented. There, hence, blossomed magnificence.
Each stroke gave birth to a rainbow of multi-hued images.
Each dot gleamed, as though waiting to be alive for long ages.

Trees, shrubs, and herbs; hills, mountains, fountains, rivers, and oceans
The galaxies, heavens, and Hades each depicted his notions.
Ponds, lakes, and waterfalls—

It started with a blank canvas

They say the sun has a way with searing our sights, 
maybe it just might,
But stars could swoop through the obscurity,
blazing in a sea of absence, 
Broadcasting its beams and banners like a school of piranhas diving into the deep, 
What is it about love that makes bravery such a charming challenge, 
Why do your

my mate Jericho has started writing poetry

he throws snowballs at buses
but now is able to memorably convey experiences
using iambic dimeter
creating an impersonality
vidya games and spondee
he threw my bicycle in the river
now juxtaposing contrasting stuff side by side
heroic couplets

passive aggressive ballads
caesura; and brexit geezer
he said my inflections and monosyllables 
were slick and sick; cowboy poetry
his first poem is called "no one understands

It Started With A Blank Canvas

It started with a blank canvas when I was twelve.
I started seeing this vision and I knew it was not a dream
for I always saw the vision when I was awake and about.
It started blank, all white, just like a blank canvas. 

Soon there were sketches of images, images that soon
turned into blue skies and

IT STARTED WITH A BLANK CANVAS

Love is a blank canvas, a phantasmagoric fantasy,
to pucker up with glossy lips, the subtle soft brush
against the opposite sex, with eye-shades drawn.

Love doesn’t know the body yet, still sizing it up.
It doesn’t know the femininity and masculinity of art.
O Leonardo…O Romeo…Ah Juliet…O Venus!

Love craves the parts that match up, some the same,
others staining the

It Started With A Blank Canvas

It started with a stamped canvas
Long, long ago, long, long ago
To be prettier than dianthus
Finished it'd put on a great show

Long, long ago, long, long ago
The embroidery done in detail
When finished a lesson bestow
Remembering now the tales I could tale

A few stitches remain to be sown
'Pon that piece started when you were born
Long, long ago,

It Started With A Blank Canvas

I stood in front of the canvas,
I had a story to tell,
I had images impressed in my chamber,
Visions in my night’s sojourn.

I started stroke by stroke,
I painted brush by brush,
In the hush of the night,
In the symphony of the silence.

I was startled to see the tempest in me,
I had gone to the depths of the

It Started with a Blank Canvas

Placed second in:
It Started With a Blank Canvas Poetry Contest:
Sponsored by Silent One


                                   It Started with a Blank Canvas

  

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