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GOOD FRIDAY in my heart! Fear and affright!
My thoughts are the Disciples when they fled,
My words the words that priest and soldier said,
My deed the spear to desecrate the dead.
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All the words that I utter,
And all the words that I write,
Must spread out their wings untiring,
And never rest in their flight,
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A face that should content me wondrous well
Should not be fair but lovely to behold,
With gladsome cheer all grief for to expel;
With sober looks so would I that it should
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My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still,
While comments of your praise, richly compiled,
Reserve their character with golden quill
And precious phrase by all the Muses filed.
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My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still,
While comments of your praise, richly compiled,
Reserve their character with golden quill,
And precious phrase by all the Muses filed.
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Fear ye not the stormy future, for the Battle Hymn is strong,
And the armies of Australia shall not march without a song;
The glorious words and music of Australia's song shall come
When her true hearts rush together at the beating of a drum.
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What would I give for a heart of flesh to warm me through,
Instead of this heart of stone ice-cold whatever I do!
Hard and cold and small, of all hearts the worst of all.
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THE indications, and tally of time;
Perfect sanity shows the master among philosophs;
Time, always without flaw, indicates itself in parts;
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THE words of the lips are double or single,
True or false, as we say or sing:
But the words of the eyes that mix and mingle
Are always saying the same old thing!
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Is it not brave to be a king, Techelles,--
Usumcasane and Theridamas,
Is it not passing brave to be a king,
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When words we want, Love teacheth to indite;
And what we blush to speak, she bids us write.
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Words are treasures that should not be misused.
When we choose to express ourselves words are
the tools that we use. Words can tell a story about
the past, spread the news of a current event or
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For all that lies behind the words.
Words of comfort to the sorrying heart.
Words of cheer ringing in the ears.
Words of anger troubling the soul.
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Gritting my teeth
I bite my tongue under my Mona Lisa smile.
Grating words intensify
The glare of the grin and glint of my eye.
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From beyond the grave
We hear them speak
Words spoken to us before.
Words of laughter
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Words are the most natural
Influential characters.
Try to write without one.
Words are the most spiritual
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I learned as a child
That Wisdom and Knowledge
Is not obtained
Through how many
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Be careful talking to a fool
Their words may entice you to become one.
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Shattered pieces have consumed my thoughts.
Strong words keep manoeuvring around this spirit.
You left with no words to say, but the wind hitting your feet and the dust shattered your lost soul.
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words beautiful words
choice chosen polished pebbles
lifestyle practices words
scholars may practice words
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Perfect Birth
Upon this blank page, before the whispers of the letter is spoken into the weave of the word which spells the meaning, the message born within, through which, intertwined with the next letter and the next, comes joined together with another word weaved, through which their conjoined meanings combine and align to create words in sequence, as the poetry begins to give birth before the fertile womb of the blank page, as the words weave and intertwine into the next word and the next. Creating a poetry seething, beautiful, intricate, intimately complex, as the meanings of the words come together to create a poem that breathes the life of inner meaning, in the depth of their sacred inner sounds, with deeper depths of meanings profound, as they abound upon the blank page, as if written by an ancient sage, as they weave and intertwine in a paragraph made with lines; of words with voices strong and true, that speak to the depths inside of you, as one word joins another, and those words are two, and then another comes and the verse flows free, the words now a trinity, and as the verse is borne from the sacred power of the silence before the storm of the poetry seething within, the birthing pains of the muse are the sounds of a lover giving birth, to the beauty found within the chiming fetters of the blank page, as I rue and sing a lament for the death of sweet silence, as the story unfolds before the words broken silence, and in the music that is born, from the birthing cries of the muse with love in her heart and tears in her eyes. She cry's, calls to the pen, and the child's hand, holds him like a lover, bows to a king, crowns him a man, in the delicate fateful stroke of her graceful sovereign hand, with which in love she pours forth to entwine within his soul a verse, filling his heart with new birth, as the inspiration flows from her jeweled heart, shinning light to entwine upon his art, that begins as he starts to write first the letters then the words, spoken before the power of the blank page, that whispers of promise so sweet despite its age, the king crowned child with steady hands, hears the whispers of his muse sing upon the lyre in his heart, louder than the lion, champion to the music in his soul. As she bestows. Words begotten from the deepest corners of time itself, to dance with poetry amongst the fairies and the elves, that they might join in chorus, in the middle of the forest, with the music that graces their ears, as the music sings a melody to the deep and the wild, a poetry seething, in the heart of a child. That sung his song, pen in hand, upon the sacred power of the blank page, that he might wage war upon the silence, with a sovereign providence, of words of deeper depth, that as he pens his poem in melodic verse the fairies and angels do rehearse, the many colors and notes of this poetry alive, which breathes with a music from deep inspiration, that comes from the titillation of the music of the muse, her heart strumming the strings of the lyre, into the listening ear of her lover so dear, the child, her king, and the poem their child. As verse after verse the poem is compiled, by the wits whim and whiles of the muse and her lover, as each sings a song to one another, and in heated hearts the song is heard, as if the sound was the song of angelic birds humming to the music of words written upon the soul, that they may find lovers of their own, as they wrap, the two lovers, the muse and her king, under the brilliant white feathers of their wings, to raise in chorus, as the fairies sing, and the many bells the angels ring, the trumpeting music of heaven, that sings as notes as soft as mist, to intertwine in the poetry of this. that as the poetry seethes and burns with life, the muse, with lips locked upon the child's heart, consecrates herself as his wife, and the two lovers, form a dance in verse, which upon sheets of the blank page they give perfect birth.
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Mes poèmes/ My poems
I am lost in my poems
From Strangers to Strange things and strangest
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Words can implore, words can plead,
Words can fail, but also succeed,
Words can empower, when at their best,
Can help to clear, what is on your chest,
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POETICS: EAST AND WEST
Origins and evolution of poetics the World Over
Although poetry appeared in many countries of the world from times immemorial, it was only in India that an enquiry started on the questions as to what is poetry, how it could be treated, and why it should be written. In the wake of this enquiry, a large body of scientific knowledge regarding the mechanics of poetry and its purpose developed and began expanding through the centuries. We have a plethora of evidence about this in the Vedic literature, Ramyana and Mahabharata. I don't wish to go into all that here. I shall only give one instance from Mahabharata (chapter 207 of Rajya lambha parva)Narada is described as "Paribhushaitaa vaachaam varnatah sarvatorthatah". It means Narada is also a poet. In those days, evidently, according to the scientists of poetry, a poet is one who adorned the word letter-wise and meaning-wise (i.e. word-beauty and sense-beauty) . These words remind us of the great Bhamaha of the later period and his theory of Alankara. Those books of poetics are not available to us today. However from the Natyasastra of Bharata onwards, all the literature on poetics in not only available but also remains intact with a tradition of being read by scholars and taught to the students of literature (in Sanskrit) .
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Introduction:
By Dr. Gary Miller
About the Author
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Greetings to each of you my dearly beloved brothers and sisters in God's name. Please read these twenty-one blessings rendered for you in God's grace:
I. May God's love for the new year grant you joy and inspiration overcoming trials and tribulation with patience and prayer. His words state "Not slothful in business; fervent in spirit, serving the Lord. Rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation; continuing in instant prayer" (Roman 12: 11-12) .
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Words can hurt, Words can heal
Words can even make you feel
Words can shape, Words can sway
Words can even make an appeal
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Writing a poem is not about bringing some words together to create some charming sentences. It's so much deeper than that. Writing poetry is a bridge that allows people to express their feelings and make others live every single word they read. Poetry is to educate people, to lead them away from hate to love, from violence to mercy and pity. Writing poetry is to help this community better understand life and live it more passionately. PoemHunter.com contains an enormous number of famous poems from all over the world, by both classical and modern poets. You can read as many as you want, and also submit your own poems to share your writings with all our poets, members, and visitors.