Poems about Writing Poetry
#WritingPoetry
Poems about writing poetry examine style, form, composition and language. Also, poetry about the writing process and what it means to write a poem.
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Abstract Soul On The Move
looking for that perfect beat
the soul sonic force
rides me...guides me
through this jagged course
with adjectives objectifying scenic trails
verbs moving interpretations
through fundamental
nouns...
...
sounds flood the senses
in silence
just pen poet and purpose
catching words
wherever they my land
scribble..jot..dab...stab more ink
on tortured parchment
...
today..transcend
make it make sense tomorrow
intergalactic e-mails
avalanche down the bloodstream
with...
the soul sonic force
rides me...guides me
through this jagged course
with adjectives objectifying scenic trails
verbs moving interpretations
through fundamental
nouns...
...
sounds flood the senses
in silence
just pen poet and purpose
catching words
wherever they my land
scribble..jot..dab...stab more ink
on tortured parchment
...
today..transcend
make it make sense tomorrow
intergalactic e-mails
avalanche down the bloodstream
with...
#WritingPoetry
26 reads
0 Comments
Whim
Nothing is as free as thought
Searching for a linguistic home;
An anchorage for hope distraught
Where care no longer has to roam.
Well bound in a definition
We know that meaning tends to be
Safer in the recognition
Of liberated poetry...
Where connotation explains away
Much of what is never made clear
By what denotation has to say
When meaning is what we truly revere,
And thus the poet anon explores
Vocabularies he most adores!
Searching for a linguistic home;
An anchorage for hope distraught
Where care no longer has to roam.
Well bound in a definition
We know that meaning tends to be
Safer in the recognition
Of liberated poetry...
Where connotation explains away
Much of what is never made clear
By what denotation has to say
When meaning is what we truly revere,
And thus the poet anon explores
Vocabularies he most adores!
#WritingPoetry
51 reads
1 Comment
Journey Within
My dear friend, the answer lies not in the destination,
But in the journey that leads to revelation.
Shall I go to my cabin in the woods,
And breathe in the fresh air of the neighborhood?
Or shall I go to the end of the earth,
Where the vastness of the ocean stretches forth?
Perhaps I'll go to the moon,
And see the world from a different tune.
But maybe, just maybe,
The answer lies within me.
The soul is a vast universe to explore,
A journey that requires no passport nor lore.
To sit and visit my inner self,
Is to...
But in the journey that leads to revelation.
Shall I go to my cabin in the woods,
And breathe in the fresh air of the neighborhood?
Or shall I go to the end of the earth,
Where the vastness of the ocean stretches forth?
Perhaps I'll go to the moon,
And see the world from a different tune.
But maybe, just maybe,
The answer lies within me.
The soul is a vast universe to explore,
A journey that requires no passport nor lore.
To sit and visit my inner self,
Is to...
#nature
#WritingPoetry
#learning #SelfDiscovery
#learning #SelfDiscovery
17 reads
0 Comments
Pachyderms
On the cross of time
moments crossed
dimly lit in the alleys
when turning the corners
in the corners of darkness
elephants
that nobody sees
so white
the elephants
and their sinister frankness
..................gray
the elephants
with its immense difficulty
to fold the napkins
and shave eyebrows
in the dark...
elephants are huge
cast giant shadows
have wide flat feet
and lots of love for shoes
elephants bother
with their bodies flashy
in the soft memories ...
moments crossed
dimly lit in the alleys
when turning the corners
in the corners of darkness
elephants
that nobody sees
so white
the elephants
and their sinister frankness
..................gray
the elephants
with its immense difficulty
to fold the napkins
and shave eyebrows
in the dark...
elephants are huge
cast giant shadows
have wide flat feet
and lots of love for shoes
elephants bother
with their bodies flashy
in the soft memories ...
#mirror
#myself
#WritingPoetry #confusion
#WritingPoetry #confusion
28 reads
2 Comments
Horns
I dreamed of Pan's horns
I don't know if it's a fallacy
or if it can turn out to be phallic
but horns, Morpheus, horns?
Yes, Dr. Freud, I dreamed of horns!
I don't know what your interpretation is
but mine is very clear:
Sinful thoughts or actions
of a sleeping person.
A colorful character who acquires
a human form out of guilt
of their own folly and secret vices.
A horn in a dream symbolizes seduction,
sensuality and strong need
of an excellent erotic relationship.
...
I don't know if it's a fallacy
or if it can turn out to be phallic
but horns, Morpheus, horns?
Yes, Dr. Freud, I dreamed of horns!
I don't know what your interpretation is
but mine is very clear:
Sinful thoughts or actions
of a sleeping person.
A colorful character who acquires
a human form out of guilt
of their own folly and secret vices.
A horn in a dream symbolizes seduction,
sensuality and strong need
of an excellent erotic relationship.
...
#mirror
#confessional
#myself
#WritingPoetry
#LifeCycle
27 reads
2 Comments
Thee Madd Poetist
not unlike thee madd scientist
can be found painting raw amethyst
scattering verb like skilled ventriloquists
seeing the world in rays of ultraviolet
pushing the limits, the antagonist
is ever questioning if we exist
seeking purity as a naturalist
and blending words as an alchemist
that form thoughts of a nonconformist
wondering if we can really coexist
in a world ran by violent anarchists
afterall, we’re all just boring tourists
seeking the monuments of the quest
so don’t think of me as a terrorist
for I am not a published...
can be found painting raw amethyst
scattering verb like skilled ventriloquists
seeing the world in rays of ultraviolet
pushing the limits, the antagonist
is ever questioning if we exist
seeking purity as a naturalist
and blending words as an alchemist
that form thoughts of a nonconformist
wondering if we can really coexist
in a world ran by violent anarchists
afterall, we’re all just boring tourists
seeking the monuments of the quest
so don’t think of me as a terrorist
for I am not a published...
#rhyming
#LifeAsAWriter
#WritingPoetry
#PowerOfWords
#philosophical
24 reads
0 Comments
Surrealist Dreamscapes
I open my mouth but the words won’t come out
They feel like supernovas far away in the distance
Thus I restrain my cords while my wild heart shouts
Screaming at the top of my soul about this existence
All I want to do is tear at the fabric of time and space
It consumes me with overwhelming passion and force
Breaking me to the point of nothingness in disgrace
Leaving it to chance and waiting for fate to take its course
Maybe this thing will be the end of me, a frenemy
It haunts endlessly lurking nearby wanting to escape ...
They feel like supernovas far away in the distance
Thus I restrain my cords while my wild heart shouts
Screaming at the top of my soul about this existence
All I want to do is tear at the fabric of time and space
It consumes me with overwhelming passion and force
Breaking me to the point of nothingness in disgrace
Leaving it to chance and waiting for fate to take its course
Maybe this thing will be the end of me, a frenemy
It haunts endlessly lurking nearby wanting to escape ...
#love
#heartbroken
#WritingPoetry #despair
#WritingPoetry #despair
66 reads
4 Comments
"writing" "poetry"
i love it.... i hate it.... it oils the spinning wheels, that at times i want to do away with....
it's a "gift".... it's just as much a curse; dealing with "creatively" arranged words in verse....
sometimes i want to throw it away; it's like an itch in the mind need scratching-which at times unable to erase the fact that it wants Molotov(alcohol beverage)of choice down the hatch or bullet to one's own brain perhaps....
because it's all but one of many copes in the bag; because.......
it's a "gift".... it's just as much a curse; dealing with "creatively" arranged words in verse....
sometimes i want to throw it away; it's like an itch in the mind need scratching-which at times unable to erase the fact that it wants Molotov(alcohol beverage)of choice down the hatch or bullet to one's own brain perhaps....
because it's all but one of many copes in the bag; because.......
#WritingPoetry
#philosophical
35 reads
The Absence of Magic
Crushed under heel, your cigarette smolders in heavy waves of gray, defiant to its last breath. Compare its progress to the formation of debris fields, Saturn's rings, the Kuiper belt. Smaller scale, the same physical principles in play. Force of momentum and attraction, mass and density, light and a path of longitudinal oscillations along the line of propagation. Beauty in the facility of simple movement.
She exhales and laughs bitterly, throws bursts of sound like glass at me that shatters against my face. I wait, let your silence reign, until you will speak again. What isn’t a...
She exhales and laughs bitterly, throws bursts of sound like glass at me that shatters against my face. I wait, let your silence reign, until you will speak again. What isn’t a...
#love
#universe
#memories
#WritingPoetry
#LifeCycle
95 reads
14 Comments
I Write Erotica
I write erotica
Full of lasciviousness
In a virtual world
When I invite you to play
It’s virtually
Only
If my poems have the desired effect
It’s because it’s poetry
Pure and simple
Full of lasciviousness
In a virtual world
When I invite you to play
It’s virtually
Only
If my poems have the desired effect
It’s because it’s poetry
Pure and simple
#sex
#erotic
#WritingPoetry #dirty
#WritingPoetry #dirty
112 reads
3 Comments
Poetic Epistemology
Simple is sleep poetry
deposited in forgotten hand
narrative absence of time
who would dare to call deceit
if the words are not readable
and all the evidence of life is there
slight and oblique, diagrammatic
galaxy evocation
something symptomatic,
like who wants to see
and choose
wait and let it happen
compelled by sonorities
hear the presence of the mystery
emanating from the tied polyphony.
Vocabulary and sound implication
between the random range of meanings
voice in relevant chromaticism ...
deposited in forgotten hand
narrative absence of time
who would dare to call deceit
if the words are not readable
and all the evidence of life is there
slight and oblique, diagrammatic
galaxy evocation
something symptomatic,
like who wants to see
and choose
wait and let it happen
compelled by sonorities
hear the presence of the mystery
emanating from the tied polyphony.
Vocabulary and sound implication
between the random range of meanings
voice in relevant chromaticism ...
#BestFriend
#identity
#mirror
#myself
#WritingPoetry
46 reads
6 Comments
Amalgamate!
The Muse will come and the Muse will go
Often for several days at a time
Contriving thoughts to return and bestow,
Some into rhyme, attentively sublime,
Whereon afflatus I routinely drone
Regarding love in an ornate style
Which no doubt now is so overblown
That scarcely are flirts inclined to smile!
But stranger to me is the verse that's free,
Like motorways without any rules,
And vulgarity obligatory...
Except from the nerds from private schools!
So few can handle the mixing of brows
Whenever the...
Often for several days at a time
Contriving thoughts to return and bestow,
Some into rhyme, attentively sublime,
Whereon afflatus I routinely drone
Regarding love in an ornate style
Which no doubt now is so overblown
That scarcely are flirts inclined to smile!
But stranger to me is the verse that's free,
Like motorways without any rules,
And vulgarity obligatory...
Except from the nerds from private schools!
So few can handle the mixing of brows
Whenever the...
#WritingPoetry
#PopCulture
#tradition #risk
#tradition #risk
54 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems about Writing Poetry