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Two poems on poetry
1)
"A POEM IS LIKE A GEM"
20th September 2010.
A poem is like a gem, the saturation of a text,
so complete, and being shorter than prose text,
beautiful as such.
In the readers mind, while reading,
it dances in unison with his own thoughts,
his gathered knowledge, his word associations,
his joys and sorrows,
He uses this symbiosis as a harmony,
or marriage of perception, that gives his reader,
a different experience, just as the poet himself,
has had his own unique experience in the writing of it.
** ** ** ** ** **
2)
"POETRY"
Margaret Ann Waddicor
10th February 2012.
Poets
put the same old theories
and hypotheses
in new ways.
Show facets
that spark connections
in others minds.
Creates an art
that fascinates the brain,
gives play to the mechanics
of the cells,
intensifies concentration
on the core of a problem,
a joy.
Fixes an image
that can be taken out
and enjoyed,
like a Chinese puzzle,
being never so clear
as to state an absolute.
Suggests
a myriad possibilities.
Style / type:
Free verse
Last few words:
What are your thoughts on this subject? Ann.
Editing stage:
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Comments
loved
Sat, 2012-02-11 14:40
Should I dare to be the one, who comments first
Well to my semi dwarfed mind
without knowing the nuances
of concoction of poetry,
save verbal criticism
I feel the power of sharing
what one knows or deems to know,
with ones brethren
Poetry is the emergence of a natural thought
out of a vessel constrained
stifled as you may say,
for you always tell me,
I speak of,
in riddles least understood
And
so as many can't understand
what the poet had in one’s mind
at that anointed hour,
when poetry flowed down his nervous mind
that itself becomes a reason
to converse on
WHAT THE POET
Actually meant
Life's discourse is such
It manifests in forms unknown
un- understood by many
and this effulvesence (new word)/effervescence
One calls inspirational poetry.
Hope I have conveyed some sense,
else garbage it as non –sense
If not any sense
loved
Nordic cloud
Sun, 2012-02-12 04:23
No nonsense
No non sense no sense as sense
it scribes
your words describe
in perfect sense the lives
of poems
stressed to turn a page
in archives
sometimes beyond the grave
that stir the senses sudden
swished its effulvesence
squished out through subtle seams
to make a poem as it seems.
I enjoyed your comment here.
Ann.
"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.
author commentloved
Sun, 2012-02-12 06:39
Many would love to see
Loved...
archived,
ere the end ,
but will it so be ?
if I have Ma'am
and
Esker
and
Joe
to hold my shaky hand .
I am too bold to say ,
Nay ,
be it prose or semblance of poetry
If I say so,
it may...
loved
Esker
Sat, 2012-02-11 19:18
Love the new words sparked by this trippy poem
I love orators and presentations I can see you beneath a pine
explaining the beauty of why the glacier is to be loved and
examined as alive Not in staid repose the bare rocks not
death but of a new fertile scape for forests to fill in time
Your pointer stick whirling and twirling on the benifits of
opening ones mind Or on the stage the lecturn
telling poetry You would tell it like the dancing
Ontario Television choreographed numbers that
turn my mind into jellow...I know it means something
I know a glacier is something and Poetry is more
then just soup for the soul
I know you have told me about Truffles
yes all that like a grocery list of magic
spun and wound in the pot
and then the breaks to listen to the wind
in the branchs
and rest our pacing minds
Thank You
Nordic cloud
Sun, 2012-02-12 04:40
You see, you feel you understand
You see, you feel you are a poet.
I remember an old Spéléology man, Zafrilla -Mexican in Spanish Civil war, escaped to Corsica; he planned a long tour seeking holes in the ground, we were not so interested in that an as he planned that as his car wouldn't take us all three, we had to be picked up and taken, then the other fetched, this many times on the way to the places, phew! (I had to translate all he said in French into Norwegian for Erik-they became good friends!!) We ended up with him standing on the top of a hill, pointing with his walking stick to a sculpted Déesse in a stone lower down in- a thorn full Maquis ( Also "A Chilean evergreen shrub (Aristotelia chilensis) bearing edible purple berries." which we afterwards called Acupuntur, tur meaning walk in Norwegian.
I love this image:-
"I know you have told me about Truffles
yes all that like a grocery list of magic
spun and wound in the pot
and then the breaks to listen to the wind
in the branchs"
Like sugar stretching
to breaking point.
Crack.
Smile
Ann. Takk.
"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.
author commentGeezer
Sat, 2012-02-11 20:06
I must show...
this to Sir Gee. He is intriqued by the thought that all things are alive in their own way and without the all, there will be nothing.His Queen is always in his thoughts. He is about to embark upon another quest and will return soon to tell you of his exploits. ~ Love to my Queen, ~ Geezer
There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.
Nordic cloud
Sun, 2012-02-12 04:42
Sir intelligent Geezer
Mercy for you gallant words I await your presence in court.
Queen questionableAnn
"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.
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