Writing Poetry

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  • Rookie - 1st Stage Anteaus Berryhill (2/11/2014 7:52:00 PM) Post reply

    You just misunderstood
    You know what you want but its never good.
    Like a dream that never come true.
    So now you feeling so blue.
    Because the man you love wasn't honest.
    And now you being modest.
    But he still don't understand.
    Because you just asking for a simple demand.
    You find out this relationship never work out.
    And now you eating Ice cream and pout.
    You watching a love story.
    And finding that love is your only glory.
    You are pouring out your tears.
    Because men been hurting your for years.
    You ask yourself why you went with them?
    You now have trust issues.
    Crying with a box of tissues.
    You got that fear about love.
    And all you need is just a hug.
    All you need is a hug love one.
    A broken heart torn by love.
    The men treat you good at first.
    But then they treat you like animal.
    Mate after mate and you was just a bait.
    And all you want to do is just wait.
    And wonder if God send you someone good.
    Someone that is not hood.
    But someone good............

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Sandip Goswami (2/9/2014 4:07:00 AM) Post reply


    Who is the Poet

    Poet is a different personality in the universe,
    Whose voices come from soul
    Not lip, throat, heart, brain....

    Truly voice of the Almighty

    And every voice is universal truth

    Poet is not a part of any country, political parties and ism

    Poet creates different universe and true-ism

    And true leader, guide of the people in the universe.


    Known, nothing will be written about me
    In any poem, story or essay

    Known, will not receive any co-operation from Governments
    Any honest or dishonest award...

    Nobody will burn incense on the day of my death
    Except my wife!

    Nobody will celebrate my birthday
    My birthday celebration will not happen...

    Although I am walking...thinking...creating...

    Only for You....Only for You...
    Only for You...My dream future...

    God And Woman (English & Bengali)

    God And Woman

    I did not want anything from The Almighty
    Sacrificed untouchable realization
    Which is symbol of myself
    And dedicated emotions, silence.

    I did not demand anything from the woman
    Allowed her into the corner of my mind
    Which is the center of bleeding
    And presented my intuition.

    The Almighty and the woman repeatedly call
    Destruction in my lonely life
    It's the ability to do more by them...

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Aziz isa (2/8/2014 9:40:00 AM) Post reply

    The full moon over Ayvalik

    Aziz Isa
    Translated from Uyghur by Abdusami Sadir

    The shadow of the full moon over Ayvalik1
    Is drifting on the Marmara Sea tonight.
    It is dancing with the lively fish,
    Singing praises of love!

    On the opposite shore
    I am subject to solitude.
    With yesterday’s thoughts and feelings
    Only adding to my sorrow and confusion.

    This evening, which took shape before my eyes
    and captivated me, is exhausted.
    My heart is pierced by the wild feelings
    Newly born within me tonight.

    The moon-like siren at Ayvalik
    Is singing on the Marmara Sea,
    Urging me forward towards her.

    From the closest shore to you
    Cannot wait until you come,
    So I catch your shadow and make a boat,
    Wishing to set a-sail.

    I wish to take you,
    Bind you,
    Carve you
    Onto my parched heart,
    burning like fire in the Teklimakan.2

    O, Moon…
    Have the pearl-like eyes in the sky
    Made a place for you to stay?
    Have the precious stones in the sea
    Fallen down from you?
    They are twinkling and cutting through the horizon,
    On this mysterious night.

    O, Moon…
    Together with the stars you become a torch,
    A warship between the darkened clouds.
    You are unmatched in this world
    So I obey you in silence.
    The night, which kisses the horizon,
    Also pays homage to you.

    O, Moon…
    The full moon over Ayvalik,
    I have begun to recognise you now,
    I have made a mark on you.
    Have you been here before?
    Have you come from my own distant sky?
    From the nights of
    And the six cities?7

    “O Moon,
    You moon of mine…”
    I wish to shout out with all my heart.
    Born as a diver upon the beach of Ayvalik,
    Questions have come to me and
    I wish to find the answers:

    A place in Turkestan,8 far from the sea,
    Which saw you this very night.
    Did you recognise the people from Ayköl?
    Was darkness enshrouding Aydingköl?9
    Were the dogs barking in Aqsu?10
    When young men became martyrs in Lükchün,11
    When vultures filled the evening skies of Yilqa,12
    Were the doe which disappeared from Maralbéshi,13
    Crying by the Tarim River?14

    Full moon over Ayvalik,
    Did you recognise on your trip today;
    The people, who love the crescent moon and stars,
    Who say: “We are not a white flag”?
    Those who believe in Khan Tengri,15 which every evening
    lays out like a white carpet onto your path?
    And the Teklimakan,
    A mystical place with an ocean of sand,
    Capturing precisely your own reflected shape?

    Since I have gone through so much
    My feelings are rushed,
    Moving in every direction.
    The early arrival of God’s light
    Adds sorrow to my peaceful heart.
    It wishes to steal it away,
    so drags the full moon over Ayvalik
    away to the west!

    Life continues as normal in the streets of Ayvalik,
    The sound of Adhan16 in the loudspeakers,
    Calling us to the morning prayer…
    In the amusement arcades on the seafront
    Foreign music is playing.
    The barking of dogs,
    The clucking of hens,
    Sweethearts on the street corner being driven away.

    Full moon over Ayvalik,
    I am an artist tonight
    So I shall paint on my heart
    The shadows on the Marmara Sea.
    My pen has drawn a chain to tie you to the ocean,
    Yet the ink became blood and I scribbled you out,
    Staining your face!

    O, Moon…
    If you leave at this very moment,
    Then I beg from you on your return
    When you see the Teklimakan,
    When you kiss the Tengri Mountains,
    To bring greetings from your slave who loves you,
    From this exiled Uyghur,
    From Ayvalik!

    O, Moon…
    I was waiting for you in Ayvalik,
    But is life really this romantic?
    I cannot smile,
    I do not even have a smile,
    So how is it possible to force one?!

    O, my moon…
    The full moon over Ayvalik,
    I shall never give up hope.
    I shall never abandon my desire.
    Through this night,
    Through your light,
    I am in love with you.

    Ayvalik, Turkey
    23rd August 2013

    Source: http://www.uyghurensemble.co.uk/en/?p=223

    Read the original version of this poem in Uyghur language:




    1. Ayvalik (Turkish: Ayvalik) is a sea-side town on the North-Eastern coast of Turkey.

    2. The Teklimakan (Uyghur: ??????????) is the world’s second largest shifting-sand desert, located in the current Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, China.

    3. Ayköl (Uyghur: ??????) is a town currently in Aqsu Prefecture, Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, China.

    4. Aybagh (Uyghur: ??????) is a township currently in Awat County, Aqsu Prefecture, Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, China.

    5. Küybagh (Uyghur: ??????) is a town currently in Poskam County, Kasghar Prefecture, Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, China.

    6. Altay (Uyghur: ??????) is a city currently in Ili Kazakh Autonomous County, Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, China. This city is named after the Altay Mountain Range, which holds great symbolic meaning for the Turkic people of the region.

    7. The ‘Six Oasis Cities’ (Uyghur: ????? ?????) is a traditional name for the major oases towns of the region, namely: Khotan, Yarkand, Kashgar, Üch-Turpan, Yengisar, and Aqsu.

    8. Turkestan is a Persian word, literally meaning ‘Place of the Turks’. It refers to the cultural and linguistic sphere of the Turks, used generally to define the region of modern-day Turkic Central Asia.

    9. Aydingköl (Uyghur: ?????????) meaning ‘Moonlit Lake’ is a lake, currently situated approximately 30km from Turpan City, Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, China.

    10. Aqsu (Uyghur: ?????) is a major city and seat of the Aqsu Prefecture, currently in Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, China.

    11. Lükchün (Uyghur: ??????) is a town currently in Pichan County, Turpan Prefecture, Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, China.

    12. Yilqa (Uyghur: ???????) is a township currently in Kargilik County, Kashgar Prefecture, Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, China.

    13. Maralbéshi (Uyghur: ?????????) is a county currently in Kashgar Prefecture, Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, China. Its name literally means ‘Doe’s Head’, hence the reference to the doe in the text.

    14. The Tarim River (Uyghur: ????? ???????) is the main river of the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, China.

    15. Khan Tengri (Uyghur: ????????) is one of the tallest mountains in the Tengritagh Mountain Range, situated between the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan. The name Tengri refers to a deity in Old Turkic and Mongolic belief, literally meaning ‘sky’.

    16. Adhan (Arabic: ???????) is the Islamic call to worship, which is called out from mosques five times a day.

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Timmy Long (2/7/2014 4:03:00 AM) Post reply

    hey i just wanted to share a poem i written in class
    its call " Midnight Skies"

    The stars above gives glimmers of light
    to the darkness of night
    ripples paint the skies

    beneath a river lies
    and on its shore a city subsides
    and set ablaze by city lights

    but far from sight
    stand two together
    frail and fragile
    they lean on each other

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Jm T (2/7/2014 2:20:00 AM) Post reply

    I find that certain structured rules of poetics confines, restricts and stifles the more purer imaginative forms from inspiration as it limits innovative originality. Of course not to do away with technicality but to take away the assumed academic expertise of what constitutes poetry for poetry cannot be constituted to only linear forms. As the inspiration comes from beyond its forms.

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Terrance Tracy (2/4/2014 7:50:00 PM) Post reply

    To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you and your private heart is true for all men, – that is genius. Speak your latent conviction, and it shall be the universal sense; for the inmost in due time becomes the outmost, and our first thought is rendered back to us by the trumpets of the Last Judgment familiar as the voice of the mind is to each the highest merit we ascribe to Moses, Plato and Milton, it's that they set at naught books and traditions, and spoke not what men, but what they thought. A man should learn to detect and watch that gleam of light which flashes across his mind from within, more than the luster of the firmament of bards and sages. Yet he dismisses without notice his thought, because it is his. In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts; they come back to us on with a certain alienated majesty. Great works of art have no more affecting lesson for us than this. They teach us to abide by our own spontaneous impression with good-humored inflexibility then most when the whole cry of voices is on the other side. Else tomorrow a stranger will say with masterly good sense precisely what we have thought and felt all the time, and we shall be forced to take with shame our own opinion from another.

    A dose of reality I could have not expressed this any better than Emerson

    Terrance Tracy

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Madhab Rudra (2/2/2014 12:28:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    ???? ??? - ?

    ?? ??? ???? ???? ???
    ????? ??? ???? ???
    ????????? ???? ??? -
    ??? ?????? ??? ???? ????
    ?'?? ??? ?????????? ?? ??;
    ?? ???????? ???????? ???????
    ???? ???? -

    ???? ???? ???????? ?
    - ???? ????? ?

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  • Rookie - 1st Stage Emma Field (2/1/2014 5:09:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    hey can i have some tips on this poem i have made plz its called " your loved"

    Laying there day and night
    Not ever feeling happy or alright
    You fake a smile for your family and friends
    You make it look like a popular trend
    All you want to do is cry and weep
    And all you want is to be free

    You get called names by people at school
    So you made a blade a cutting tool
    You used the blade on your skin
    You wanted to destroy the pain from within
    But I hope you know that your not alone
    Call me by picking up the phone

    Stop cutting with that horrible blade
    No one wants you too fade
    We all love you so very much
    We all no you so we wont judge

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    • Veteran Poet - 3rd Stage Khairul Ahsan (3/3/2014 12:36:00 AM) Post reply

      The poem seems to have been written on someone you know so well, a school friend perhaps, who is depressed being subject to bullying or unkind behaviour. I appreciate your efforts at cheering him/her ... more

    • Veteran Poet - 3rd Stage Har Srishty (2/8/2014 10:32:00 AM) Post reply

      EMMA. A WONder ful poem successfully conveyed ur feeling. Please edit your poem. " to fade" not too fade it is because i read ur poem carefully. I AM NOT A CRITIC BUT A FRIEND. Thanks

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Shelley Stanworth (2/1/2014 3:09:00 PM) Post reply

    When paper,
    meets ink it highlights,
    little things that don't matter
    Often splits,
    society into rich or suffering,
    oblivious all are the latter
    Baffled when,
    confronted with random,
    puzzle pieces to be connected
    As life,
    is like a jigsaw,
    except the end result is the unexpected
    Like a ripple,
    on the surface
    let unfold through us whats meant to be
    Calm still,
    waters below watches,
    peacefully, true love is let free
    Caught in,
    turbulent rapids
    by limits put on our existence
    Deep eternal
    empty, engaged but
    to perciece is our substance
    Blindfolded we are,
    in life, hidden from our eyes,
    our pure true power within
    That the world,
    is just our mind
    which creates, suffers from and plays in
    And it drains,
    our spirit that we dont
    grasp with our fingers
    the chains,
    on the door, control isn't gone,
    yet anxiety lingers
    In insecurity,
    we wont open,
    conditioned to block
    Out the light,
    inside ourselves
    has always been the key to the lock
    These strict,
    limitations on life,
    minds came together and insisted
    Physical life,
    is short yet
    time endless so we have barely existed
    We needed,
    rules and regulations
    to give life and death importance
    To strive,
    use time and get
    presumed born lacking self acceptance
    Spitting fire,
    regardless of the human
    races, the planets great fatality
    It is our
    mind that keeps
    on dreaming, circling this reality
    Our conflicted,
    involvement in ever
    changing surroundings unrefused
    within the already
    present power and strength, confused
    We keep on
    living a dream we're unaware
    we're in, sleeping is our waking
    What is,
    considered real,
    our known, is just us mistaking
    That control,
    isn't ours, each going
    rouge fighting in battle alone
    Against fate,
    mind created when a path
    was already laid out in stone
    True reality,
    is waiting,
    in the unknown, not the dream which is fake
    We're dreaming,
    all night then
    to dream again, never choose to wake
    And simply,
    forgetting the truth
    inside that we have known
    And to
    remember all in life,
    all we become attached to or are shown
    Is ever
    changing, inconsistent,
    yet has already been and died
    Our true,
    self is before,
    time and space had its title, meaning or divide
    Light, pure,
    love using our lives
    here to express, engage and pursue
    A harmony
    we and all life crave,
    a unity and not to be split in two

  • Rookie - 1st Stage Doris Cornago (2/1/2014 3:11:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    In my opinion, you need interaction to write powerful poems. This poem is in response to LP's poem 'Blowjob By The Tracks'. Whether this poem is autobiographical or not is a matter for creativity. One should never question the motive or the background for the poem. Just allow me to make a statement on this matter of 'paid love'. Men look for love in the most unlikely places, but women find it everywhere, and help themselves to it. Many might disagree, but such is my observation of the difference in the genders and their quest for that be-all of existence. If I can hold on to one thing before I go, I would choose that person who has shown me the utmost example of love - without boundaries and definitions, no commitments, no measures, just the pleasure of being together. If you have found such a person - hold this person tight, he/she is the one.

    Utter Ignorance
    By: Doris F. Cornago

    What do you know of love
    Something that is peddled
    As wares on a side street
    by perfumed women in tights
    and low cut bodices - their
    dead eyes fastened on bread.

    Or the course one takes
    Upon seeing a new face
    Meeting eyes in a crowded room
    a nod of understanding
    hurry out of the room
    before somebody senses.

    An excuse from boredom
    A rubbing of flesh
    A grapple, a cry of pain
    She has mistaken you
    for somebody more gentle
    Now she is screaming poison.

    We are strangers from start
    we pretend we need love
    to unmask others, make them
    conform to the person we want
    In our utter ignorance, love
    turns from unmasking to deception.

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