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Writing Poetry

Discuss ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas about how to write better.
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  • Rookie - 0 Points Latavia Green (12/10/2014 5:06:00 AM) Post reply
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    that was a truly beautiful poem

  • Rookie - 54 Points Riii La (12/7/2014 3:58:00 AM) Post reply

    Children of the Slums

    Imagine waking up on a filthy, uneven floor -
    light coming solely through the flimsy wooden wall.

    Imagine trudging through the mud barefoot -
    mud merged with remnants of God knows who.

    Imagine breathing in thick layers of sooty dust -
    the colors sullen, lifeless and dull.

    Imagine smelling the scent of faeces and decay,
    of diseases and of death every single day.

    Imagine your belly gurgling with hunger and distraught,
    sniffing glue - the only way to delude.

    Imagine walking on rickety bridges -
    a step amiss and drown you will in these murky watery ditches.

    Imagine wearing the same old rags - all tattered and torn,
    being beaten and battered, no rights of which to call your own.

    Imagine having silly daydreams of going to school
    but there's not a penny to spare - not even for a worn-out book.

    But alas, imagine no more for such children exist,
    with ghosts clouding their starry dreams
    And death hanging heavy upon their tiny, little feet.

  • Rookie - 14 Points Sam Medley (12/6/2014 3:44:00 AM) Post reply

    Timothy Winters is a great poem

  • Rookie - 14 Points Sam Medley (12/6/2014 3:42:00 AM) Post reply

    How do I make a poem in this website

  • Rookie - 5 Points Antonio Cabral Filho (12/4/2014 4:39:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply


    Casalzinho na cozinha
    discutindo asperamente
    " que eu te isso, qué?!
    eu te aquilo; vem, vem! "

    Aí um casal de caga-sebo,
    passarinho vagabundo
    que nem se encontra na feira,
    pousou na janela
    e ficou catando piolho
    um no outro
    ao som de pequenos pios,
    quase sussurros,
    arrumando as peninhas
    um do outro,
    numa cena tão cheia de paz
    e com a maior fartura de amor
    tão grande que o casalzinho
    parou a briga selada aos beijos.

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  • Silver Star - 8,825 Points Heather Wilkins (12/4/2014 2:07:00 PM) Post reply

    trash talk has no place in poetry this detracts from a writers work we as writers should hold our poetry to a high standard something to be proud of as it represents us as people.

  • Silver Star - 8,825 Points Heather Wilkins (12/4/2014 2:03:00 PM) Post reply

    presentation is very important when reading a poem correct spelling and proper spacing makes the poem easy to read. writing in quatrains is a good example

  • Freshman - 1,739 Points Elizabeth Padillo Olesen (12/2/2014 5:03:00 PM) Post reply

    Very beautiful poems you have posted here, Tom. Thanks.

  • Freshman - 1,317 Points Tom Zart (11/23/2014 8:42:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies


    Poets as a rule are high on adventure
    Like wondering bards or prophets today.
    Embracing hearts and minds with wisdom
    Casting through verse their visions at play.

    Poets have their dreams and their nightmares
    Of love, life, death, faith and war.
    They feel the pain and tragedy of others
    Even those they’ve never met before.

    They fan the flames of human compassion
    With their stories of the failings of man.
    Professing to follow a higher power
    As they recruit whomever they can.

    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
    As the missteps of man live on.


    Poetry blossomed long before Shakespeare, Milton or Poe.
    It thrived prior to Solomon and the languages of old.
    Poetry today offers itself more often in the form of music
    Then in sonnets and poems as the legends of life unfold.

    Man has his fear of loneliness, death and the hereafter
    As authors compose his doom, desperation and glory.
    All hear the words of both good and evil
    With too many that fall for the wrong story.

    The falsehoods of life find it hard to hide
    From the word of God’s poets and poems.
    Sharing their joy, frustration and sorrow
    By voice, Internet, radio, or books, in our homes.

    Poets and poems help man become more human
    As the storms of life proliferate their toll.
    Poets and poems were put here for a reason
    To help tame the savage that dwells in our soul.


    I’m God’s most humble poet
    Whose poems have meter and rhyme.
    Stories of love, faith, hate, honor and duty,
    Obedience, war, heroes, history and crime.

    I’ve performed my gift on T.V. and radio
    Before millions I’ve never met.
    Preached my praise of God and country
    With 750 poems on the net.

    Satan’s soldiers, shepherds and bards
    Spew forth their foulness and grief.
    They attack the joy and goodness of man
    Dishonoring life, family, country and belief.

    Prospering through work, love and conviction
    Enables us to remain whole and how we should be.
    Fortifying our soul with fulfillment of faith
    Lets our worst tribulations be shouldered by Thee.

    Moses, Samson, David, Solomon and Jonah
    All failed God in their own human way.
    He chose to forgive them and bless their powers
    So they might dwell in hearts of man today.

    Without God’s grace, wisdom and glorious domain
    There’s no doubt all would soon cease to survive.
    Through purpose, morals, faith and conviction
    We are able to transform and keep goodness alive.


    One of America’s most famous writers
    Was born in Boston, January of 1809.
    Both his parents were failing actors
    And his father was drunk most the time.

    In 1810 Edgar’s dad disappeared
    His mother died soon after.
    A childless couple took him in
    Raising him with love and laughter.

    Edgar had a Negro nurse
    Who brought him to her quarters.
    There he listened to ghost stories
    Far beyond Earthly borders.

    The strange tales he later wrote
    May have come from her inspiration.
    The words she used to describe death
    Gave Poe his taste for sensation.

    The Allan’s moved to England
    Where Poe attended boarding schools.
    There’s no doubt his time spent there
    Sharpened his skills as tools.

    Returning to Richmond and back in school
    He began to compose new verse.
    Heavy debts forced him to leave college
    As his life took a turn for the worse.

    Poe caught a ride on a coal barge to Boston
    Where he was unable to find employment.
    A young printer agreed to publish his poems
    Giving him hope and enjoyment.

    Penniless, Poe enlisted in the army
    And was accepted to West Point in 29.
    Poe couldn’t stand not being a writer
    Self-imposing his dismissal from The Line.

    Afterward he became an editor and critic
    And married his cousin who was thirteen.
    Six years latter he discovered she was dying
    Suffering once more the unforeseen.

    He went through periods of insanity
    Caused by grieving and functional fall.
    He smoked opium and drank too much
    Till at his doorstep death would call.

    Edgar Allan Poe the master of verse
    Still lives in our hearts today
    Famous for The Raven and other great works
    May his soul rest in peace we pray.


    The prize jewels of any nation
    Are the philosophers of the heart.
    How they think is universal
    For it’s God who makes them so smart.

    Most poets tell the truth of life
    Though they may wrap it in beauty.
    It's their passion, not their purpose
    To compose is but their duty.

    Poets have no reason to lie
    When the truth is always so clear.
    All that others say and do
    Is but food for the poet's ear.

    One merit of a poet's work
    Which most cannot deny.
    They say more and in fewer words
    To illuminate you and I.

    God sent His poets down to Earth
    With words of wisdom and of worth.
    That they might touch the souls of men
    And bring them back to Him again.


    A good poem paints a picture
    For both your heart and brain.
    It doesn't need a second chance
    To make its meaning plain.

    A good poem is like the flower
    The lily or the rose.
    God plants it in a poet's brain
    And there its beauty grows.

    A good poem like a cardinal
    Is pregnant with song
    You can’t help but hear its message
    As it sings what's right or wrong.

    A good poem helps us remember
    What the joys of life are for
    It makes us want to love someone
    Till death comes knocking at our door.

    By God's Poet
    Tom Zart
    Most Published Poet
    On The Web!
    Tom's 750 Poems Are Free To Share!

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  • Rookie - 638 Points Marieta Maglas (11/20/2014 11:50:00 AM) Post reply | Read 3 replies

    The essential rules of poetry are: to keep the poetry coming, to read poetry by others, to study the poetic forms, to attend open mics (listen to the spoken word) , to look for other rules to bend, to revise, to connect with other poets, to share your work, to submit and to publish on your own.

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