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Though life is as ephemeral as a leaf
That greens in spring and with the autumn turns
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And so I wander once again into the nebulous causeway
of words, trying to decipher the hidden truths
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If I was a poet
I’d write the world back right
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Fickle is the poet, In his expression of his [Self],
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by Hikari Lady
63 lines, 23 comments,
on Aug 7 7:05 AM. In Poetry, Poets, Life, Litriture, Sad, Truth, Personal, Thoughts, Society
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Poets are the bell ringers of the soul
As they depict the past, the present and beyond.
They sound their alarm of what lies ahead
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Contorted forms of linguistic phrase,
Pieced and matched in specific ways.
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My mindset is poetic- Unrecognised and ego-centric;
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not poets, but initiators.
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Personal Remorse is the one thing that makes
A poem stand out from all the rest; a gem
by Beverlynohime
31 lines, 4 comments,
on Mar 7 3:25 AM. In Life, Humor, Thoughts, Society, poem, poets, Personal, Pain, Humanity, Inspirational
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Poets are the bell ringers of the soul
As they depict the past, the present and beyond.
They sound their alarm of what lies ahead
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For all the poets in the world, we all have one thing in common.
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Ah . . . the delicate musings of poets must not be disabled
by drunken politics and books of computerized drivel.
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Your heart can sing It can sing you the world
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alright. i can play your game. we shall see what you have for me
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Powerful words, words of power.
Thoughts and ideas expressed
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What happens when the intangible,
Turns into tremors of feeling?
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Poets are the bell ringers of the soul
As they depict the past, the present and beyond.
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In the land of Cimmeria
things are far scarier
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Poets are the bell ringers of the soul
As they depict the past, the present and beyond.
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Poets are the bell ringers of the soul
As they depict the past, the present and beyond.
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Writing poetry is my art
I write poems using my brain and from my heart
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Always Writing
Seems most of this life is
by JasonFontaine
12 lines, 1 comment,
on Oct 29 1:44 PM 2007. In Unique, Poetry, New, Authors, Poets, Abortion, Pro-Life, Revolution, Thougths, Oughts
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the chill of the fall air
soothes and pacifies me
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They laughed
when I spoke
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To be Blessed is not a talent,
but to have talent is a Blessing.
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Once you've been bitten by the 'muse'
it's a torment that you never lose?
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A poet could be anybody,
Just trying to survive the day...
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Poets / carry a gift / of individual / creativity; expressed in / their Art /
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Oral Poets, deficient of parchment, prayed to the highest Muse. / Memorable words flowed like a living stream and did infuse. / Tapestry words of earthly wonders for the Heavenly Devine. / For eons their pen of love hel
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The best state for a poet to be in Is not in love or hate
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What lies deep within them? What lies buried way down?
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Life is not a painting you're able to finish Not in this life time as your days diminish
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Written down in a manner designed for
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A horrible thing, to live soulless. Not feeling love or pride or bliss.
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