Writing Poetry


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  • Doris Cornago (1/9/2014 8:14:00 PM) Post reply

    This is the way I would use my free time...

    Tiring Day
    By: Doris F. Cornago

    My mind is like a stairway to the stars
    It goes up and down when I need to climb
    Or it can be like a ship floating to see
    Nowhere but still everywhere, I am there
    But also here, working on tasks, bondless...

    Sometimes my mind can hide behind a door
    None can explore what I feel or think
    But when a man's word touches me, water
    Pours out, in trickles and then in streams
    Unceasing, boundless, flowing without a care...

    Sometimes my mind cuts me off, lost in space
    Spaced out, tearfully angry and inconsolable
    I can lash out with my mind and strike you
    With a sharp spear conjured with my anger
    I'll cut you in pieces and bring much pain...

    Seeing you hurt, covered with oozing blood
    Be repentant and wash you up with tears
    Crooning a song, a lullaby, tuck you in
    With soft hands, lightly pat your cheek
    Give you rest for another tiring day.

  • Doris Cornago (1/9/2014 7:53:00 PM) Post reply

    I like to think of poems as like everyday conversation in the streets. I stop by a corner and a poem is at the tip of my tongue. A man looks and he speaks indistinctly but my heart catches the end verse and I hastily memorize the words for typing on my Samsung. What you feel or hear is according to the setting of your own heart and mine. So, what comes out every time is a poem. So, a poem should speak fluently, and should touch people. The emotions it contains must be distinguishable. At least, from my own perspective. If I have garbage, I won't throw it in my neighbor's backyard, but make a compost of it to fertilize the ground. Whatever you read from me, I assure you that all has been composted and ready to fertilize your own mind and heart. If you want. The following are the opening lines from my recent poem " Bungee Jump" which tells of two types of man. Choose who you want to be. I did not dump the whole poem here as you can see.

    Bungee Jump
    By: Doris F. Cornago

    This morning the cold wind slapped me awake
    Slept late viewing videos of hunk with spunk
    Don't mistake, it is all for you as instructed
    My mind is full of icicles with your detachment
    and now I see viciousness covered with a thong.

  • Mary Amrutha (1/9/2014 6:29:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    I am not lost

    My mind being empty
    and it is hard to write something
    from an empty mind.
    Where did all the letters go?
    where did all the words go?
    what I can find inside me is nothing
    but an empty soul

    who stole the things
    that I had in my mind,
    I don't know!
    but it is all gone,
    that is what I thought
    I thought it is gone for ever
    but it is not.

    I can,
    I still can
    write something
    I can talk about things
    which I thought that I'll never remember
    I can still speak up my mind.
    I still can write from my mind.
    I am happy that I am not lost...
    Mary Amrutha

    Replies for this message:
    • Doris Cornago (1/9/2014 7:57:00 PM) Post reply

      I feel deeply for you, it seems to me you are about to get where you feared you are going. Turn around woman, and take hold of what you still can. If you want. Live your life the way you have imagined ... more

  • Sagar Rao (1/8/2014 12:28:00 PM) Post reply

    If I post poetry here, is it guaranteed that a dated record will be kept?I'm afraid of copyright infringement.

  • Doris Cornago (1/8/2014 9:07:00 AM) Post reply

    Are you looking for love?Beware that you might find something else if you keep looking in the wrong places. Or sometimes not, who really knows what you want?This poem expresses one side of togetherness...Actually, another apology...

    Looking At Same Moon
    By: Doris F. Cornago (Phoenix)

    If you walk with such heavy feet
    stay out my way because I can't
    So silly playing a game of chance
    faking romance, do you think life
    can be played out as a dying tune?

    Step nimbly, talk funny, make me laugh
    Love a man who is unmindful of time
    Not looking at watch losing control
    of mind almost looking like a fool
    but yes, responsive to sliding touch...

    Your fingers stepping up in a jazzy
    beat, horns weaving a magic tune
    like a snake entranced by sinuous waves
    of feelings, my mind reeling
    from mistaken recognition of a man.

    Are you with me, am I with you?
    Let's stay companionably together
    You in your corner, me in my own
    seeking warmth from same thoughts
    Together tonight looking at same moon.

  • Rose Nazar (1/6/2014 6:50:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    I'm new to poemhunter, and don't know how it works that much. But I've some poems you guys would like.... Please leave a comment or rate... I'd appreciate that... Thanx :)

    Replies for this message:
    • April Tambling (1/6/2014 12:07:00 PM) Post reply

      I'm new to Poemhunter also but I think we'd all really love to hear your poems!

  • Jack Growden (1/6/2014 12:59:00 AM) Post reply

    Please feel free to read my recently updated collection, and rate and comment as you wish. It would be greatly appreciated, Jack Growden.

  • Terrance Tracy (1/5/2014 10:16:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Writing Poetry

    A poem is born of the inspiration
    and filled with perspiration
    and sometimes precipitation.

    Those who don't understand
    precipitation in the poem I am
    referring to tears that comes
    from writing from ones heart.

    Those who don't understand perspiration
    It is the hard work that's put into verse.

    You have brought nothing new to the table; if you
    keep writing these verses, they are rehearsed
    and won't contribute to your purse.

    I thought it best to get it off my chest,
    before I am put to rest with repeated rhymes
    used too many times.

    Writing poetry is like painting a picture
    using words instead of charcoal, oil, water color,
    or pastel.

    It seems that they prefer words used by muse,
    divine inspiration has no room they may have met
    their fate. It is a supernatural discourse
    that is preferred.

    I don't care if it rhymes too much or has
    been well rehearsed; either you like it
    are you dislike it, it really doesn't matter,
    we all have our own style that will be with
    us for a while.

    I do not mind constructive criticism
    so let's not call for a poetical exorcism.
    I think it's fair to say it appears poets
    have no sense of humor when you try
    to amuse a muse.

    If you are still reading this poem
    and it does not meet your expectations,
    or qualifications I apologize for
    using the wrong media to relay the frustrations.

    I have read beautiful poems in this forum
    however some of the poems are downright weird,
    such as this one.
    Terrence Tracy

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  • Doris Cornago (12/30/2013 8:59:00 PM) Post reply

    Should a poem pass a " standard" to qualify as a poem?Is lofty language or artistic form be some of these criteria for a poem's acceptance by the tribe of poets?What do you think tribal poets?

  • Doris Cornago (12/29/2013 3:22:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Hello, Poets. I just want to repeat a warning by my publisher that once I post a poem in PoemHunter, I cannot publish the same in amazon.com or any other publisher on account of SELF-PLAGIARISM. Would anybody care to confirm or refute this?I will be grateful for any authoritative view on this matter and I feel, most will be grateful for guidance. Can anybody from PoemHunter comment?

    Replies for this message:
    • Andy C (12/30/2013 11:09:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      I googled self-plagiarism and found a decent white paper on it at ithenicate.com. It is new and complex law. My best assessment is change your work a bit if you are going from publication to publicati ... more

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