Poetry about Books
#books
Poetry about books, here you'll find poems about, or inspired by, books. Poems about the power of words and books to influence, move and inspire. Poetry by avid readers of books and those for whom a book, or books, have had a profound influence over their life, and their writing.
MartenHoyle
Poem Published
21st Jan 2022 5:37pm
21st Jan 2022 5:37pm
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Be sure to grab your copy of (...) for a chance to receive a handwritten poem as well as a personalized letter from Eglantine West. Both will be written with raw ink from a real quill and on classical-style scroll paper. Limited to the next SEVEN (of ten) people who purchase a copy (whether in paperback or in hardcover). Just send proof of purchase to my Messages along with your mailing address. MEANWHILE...for just $30 (PayPal accepted only--and offer limited to the United States), you can receive a signed copy with a personal dedication of your choosing (limited to 100 words), as well as a...
#heartbroken
#breakup
#books
#LifeAsAWriter
#WritingPoetry
36 reads
0 Comments
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
17th Jan 2022 11:43pm
17th Jan 2022 11:43pm
I was sixteen; it was comforting
sitting in bed reading a book
on hydrangeas, with black and white photos of no doubt
colourful flowers, and I
skimmed over things I couldn’t
possibly grasp gardening ..
on hydrangeas, with black and white photos of no doubt
colourful flowers, and I
skimmed over things I couldn’t
possibly grasp gardening ..
#books
38 reads
1 Comment
MrDunnePoetry
Poem Published
10th Jan 2022 12:30pm
10th Jan 2022 12:30pm
Haunted London
Haunted London"
All Hallows By The Tower, lives The Lady In Black/
Barnes Common, for The Exploits of Spring Heeled Jack
St Bartholomew The Great, for Footsteps In The Night/
Burlington Arcade in Mayfair, for Percy The Poltergeist
A night at Highgate Cemetery, for The City Of The Dead/
West Smithfield, for Death By Fire & It's Ghostly Effects
Bank Tube Station, lies A Stench From Beyond The Grave/
St James's Park, for The Headless Lady Of The Lake
Theatre Royal, for The Clown and The Man In Grey/
Handel House Museum, The Spirit That...
All Hallows By The Tower, lives The Lady In Black/
Barnes Common, for The Exploits of Spring Heeled Jack
St Bartholomew The Great, for Footsteps In The Night/
Burlington Arcade in Mayfair, for Percy The Poltergeist
A night at Highgate Cemetery, for The City Of The Dead/
West Smithfield, for Death By Fire & It's Ghostly Effects
Bank Tube Station, lies A Stench From Beyond The Grave/
St James's Park, for The Headless Lady Of The Lake
Theatre Royal, for The Clown and The Man In Grey/
Handel House Museum, The Spirit That...
#dark
#books
#ShortStory
#WritingPoetry
#historical
40 reads
0 Comments
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
3rd Jan 2022 1:36am
3rd Jan 2022 1:36am
chaucer
I see geoff as a modernist
in his scepticism and humanity needs more
of his tales on the telly
in his scepticism and humanity needs more
of his tales on the telly
#books
35 reads
1 Comment
Spanker
Poem Published
1st Jan 2022 2:24am
1st Jan 2022 2:24am
Scene
Lovely romantic thing
I saw Ted there
As Heathcliff
On your moor
Having climbed over
An ancient stone wall
Avoiding the Brontes
For some reason
Unknown to me
Old flames perhaps
Too tender the heart
Or out of respect
For what is given
And what is received
I saw you there too
Running wildly
Through joy & tears
Your dress cold & damp
But flying willingly
In a wicked gale
Of driving rain
And you’re smiling
And he’s laughing
Like the wolf
At & for the fox
Who...
I saw Ted there
As Heathcliff
On your moor
Having climbed over
An ancient stone wall
Avoiding the Brontes
For some reason
Unknown to me
Old flames perhaps
Too tender the heart
Or out of respect
For what is given
And what is received
I saw you there too
Running wildly
Through joy & tears
Your dress cold & damp
But flying willingly
In a wicked gale
Of driving rain
And you’re smiling
And he’s laughing
Like the wolf
At & for the fox
Who...
#love
#books
#Britain #Romanticism
#Britain #Romanticism
49 reads
1 Comment
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
11th Dec 2021 00:57am
11th Dec 2021 00:57am
saturday morning in bed
richmal crompton, enid
blyton, hugh lofting, conan doyle, kenneth grahame were the authors I loved as a child, he said
blyton, hugh lofting, conan doyle, kenneth grahame were the authors I loved as a child, he said
#books
36 reads
2 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
10th Dec 2021 8:07pm
10th Dec 2021 8:07pm
Cézanne Illustrates Carmen’s Diary
Cézanne Illustrates Carmen’s Diary
“My diary is written in liquid words which steam into the mist in maiden eyes whose secrets lack only the brushstrokes of a Cézanne for the words to find a home.”
“I appreciate the compliment but I am a dilettante painter. My art would splash into your script and cover the written memories that are so precious to you.”
“If I lose a jot or two it is of no consequence. Just be careful and do your best. Your pigment on my paper will make my scribbling art. My inking will be anointed by the stain of your palette...
“My diary is written in liquid words which steam into the mist in maiden eyes whose secrets lack only the brushstrokes of a Cézanne for the words to find a home.”
“I appreciate the compliment but I am a dilettante painter. My art would splash into your script and cover the written memories that are so precious to you.”
“If I lose a jot or two it is of no consequence. Just be careful and do your best. Your pigment on my paper will make my scribbling art. My inking will be anointed by the stain of your palette...
#love
#romantic
#books
#art
#sensual
60 reads
5 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
8th Dec 2021 11:28am
8th Dec 2021 11:28am
the end of a friendship
The end of a friendship
I sat in the kitchen of the flat mother had left me,
trying to write a poem, when heard my former friend
coming up the stairs, I had locked the kitchen door
didn´t want them in or talk to them anymore.
They knocked on the door, let us in Joe, we know
you are in there, I didn´t answer.
When the knock stopped, they stood in the communal
hallway, cursing me, calling me shit and much more.
Once I had been one of them drifting through life
that has no purpose other than sitting in cafes drinking beer
wasting...
I sat in the kitchen of the flat mother had left me,
trying to write a poem, when heard my former friend
coming up the stairs, I had locked the kitchen door
didn´t want them in or talk to them anymore.
They knocked on the door, let us in Joe, we know
you are in there, I didn´t answer.
When the knock stopped, they stood in the communal
hallway, cursing me, calling me shit and much more.
Once I had been one of them drifting through life
that has no purpose other than sitting in cafes drinking beer
wasting...
#books
#LifeAsAWriter
#MyInspiration #passion
#MyInspiration #passion
38 reads
0 Comments
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
7th Dec 2021 00:30am
7th Dec 2021 00:30am
dickens of a mess
brought his books out in instalments via monthly magazines and some
informants in the press
said that there were quite
a few last minute scenes
informants in the press
said that there were quite
a few last minute scenes
#books
37 reads
0 Comments
Em-ily
Poem Published
5th Dec 2021 6:23pm
5th Dec 2021 6:23pm
Day 17,683; Reading list
abebooks.com ፡ day
My point is 7.
Menu drop-
Home My cart
My shopping cart
The arrival of the ship
Continue recording
By A Cappella Books, Inc. Written. Parts of Atlanta, Georgia, USA, Jamaica
Text - Product:
Jordan Bruno Hermetic Tradition (V-546)
Frances A. Yatlif
Ask the seller a...
My point is 7.
Menu drop-
Home My cart
My shopping cart
The arrival of the ship
Continue recording
By A Cappella Books, Inc. Written. Parts of Atlanta, Georgia, USA, Jamaica
Text - Product:
Jordan Bruno Hermetic Tradition (V-546)
Frances A. Yatlif
Ask the seller a...
#books
56 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
29th Nov 2021 11:16am
29th Nov 2021 11:16am
random journey
Random Journey
Is the inception of a voyage the end of abstract nothingness?
Or the beginning of conscious life as driving to town buying the papers.
I remember a song, “Set sail at Sunset.” humming the words.
A red sun and calm sea, this not the crossing of Styx after sundown
ss it immaturity making fun of me again you can’t sail to Afghanistan?
I can sail there in a balloon and land where the Taliban shoots holes in the sky
smoke American cigarettes, we can drink coffee and have a natter.
The problem is, you can’t see any women like they do...
Is the inception of a voyage the end of abstract nothingness?
Or the beginning of conscious life as driving to town buying the papers.
I remember a song, “Set sail at Sunset.” humming the words.
A red sun and calm sea, this not the crossing of Styx after sundown
ss it immaturity making fun of me again you can’t sail to Afghanistan?
I can sail there in a balloon and land where the Taliban shoots holes in the sky
smoke American cigarettes, we can drink coffee and have a natter.
The problem is, you can’t see any women like they do...
#books
#WritersBlock
#WritingPoetry
#passion
#reading
31 reads
0 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
17th Nov 2021 9:13am
17th Nov 2021 9:13am
the foreigner
The Foreigner
What does one do when your pension is small?
He lived in an industrial town in England not green and pleasant.
Rows of brick houses, a tiny front yard too narrow for a car.
He could not thrive here; going back to Sweden was out
too expensive he would need help from the state to hand him accommodation.
He settled in Portugal, a country he knew little about
low wages, and he could get by with his modest pension.
He bought a ruin, fixed it up, and had a home of his own.
He never learned the language, can go to a café, no need to...
What does one do when your pension is small?
He lived in an industrial town in England not green and pleasant.
Rows of brick houses, a tiny front yard too narrow for a car.
He could not thrive here; going back to Sweden was out
too expensive he would need help from the state to hand him accommodation.
He settled in Portugal, a country he knew little about
low wages, and he could get by with his modest pension.
He bought a ruin, fixed it up, and had a home of his own.
He never learned the language, can go to a café, no need to...
#books
#MyInspiration
#passion
49 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Poetry about Books
