poet selvakumar

Rookie (world human)

The Great Poem - Poem by poet selvakumar

In the
World
The great
Poem is
? ? ? ? ?

In the
World
The sumall
Poem is

In the
World
The old
Poem is
? ? ? ? ? ?

In the
World
The new
Poem is
? ? ? ? ?

In the
World
The sweet
Poem is? ? ?

In the
World
The bad and
Good poem is
? ? ? ? ?

I LOVE YOU....
Yes
I LOVE YOU....! ! ! !

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Comments about The Great Poem by poet selvakumar

  • (9/5/2005 1:11:00 PM)


    too many? ? ? ? ? ? in your poem.....peace, david
    A perfect poet 41505

    Send not to know for whom these bells toll?
    My soul is paying full toll… a fee to set me free…
    I love and I am loved… I am a perfect poet…
    I am a perfect poet, for I love and I am loved.

    I am a perfect poet, because I have learned,
    Beyond the words and worlds of many others,
    A perfect poet has just two tasks to meet perfection,
    With ease, one of these twins is won, simply achieved,
    Compared to the immeasurable challenging nature, stricture,
    Stature, scripture, structure, complicity, complexity of the other…
    First, with simple words works scrambled, blindly maligned
    Aligned occasionally rhymed to her/his satisfaction,
    Rich or poor, in sickness or in health, for better or worse,
    Ignoring all curse, taking whatever is in store, finding the score,
    A perfect poet translates from the prosaic mosaic,
    Refutes, computes, disputes, dilutes, imputes, minutes
    All the life of process, to a sharp, poetic pitch,
    A high degree of poignancy, being significant,
    Her/his bas-relief regales, towering over all other scales,
    On bails of joy and grief…

    Bound in a second round, without a second,
    Minute, hour, day, week, month, year,
    Decade, century, millennium to spare,
    The rare second chore to score is,
    To become integral, to be a poetic soul…
    The feat depends not on fame, recognition,
    threats of perdition, any sedition, petition,
    Cognition, nor being seen as a celebrity…
    The stasis may be a purely singular, peculiar
    Secret to a perfect poet, alone…

    Send not to know for whom these bells toll?
    My soul is paying full toll… a fee to set me free …
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Poem Submitted: Monday, November 15, 2004



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