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Writing Poetry


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  • Ethan French (6/4/2013 6:10:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    I find that poetry is a calming, yet intense, art. When you write what you're thinking of you get some amount of closure. However, if you are writing about something you are passionate about you get an intense feeling of anger, fear, happiness, etc. That is why poetry is the most unique of all arts.

  • Donnaj York (6/2/2013 8:57:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    My writing is my therapy.

    Life is painful & joyful, stressful & pleasurable, difficult & marvelous.

    Conflicting experiences and feelings get tangled together in my center, (where it feels that my soul resides within me, and morns for the mess that I am) .

    Sorting out the different ideas; emotions; and subjects; separating this hodgepodge of feelings into appropriate words, then giving myself permission to put them into print for others to see, to read, critique, like or dislike, feels clarifying and brave and liberating.

    And if anything I write might happen to be helpful or encouraging to anyone, it can be left behind when I'm gone. I like the idea of leaving pieces of myself scattered about the earth after I've left it.

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    • Karen Gonzalez-videla (6/14/2013 1:06:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      I really admire what you said. I love expressing my thoughts through words, and I believe it is fantastic to show the world part of you through poems. This is literally the best comment I have seen in ... more

    • Greg Davidson (6/7/2013 7:00:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      I too have found writing poetry to be a great catharsis. Its a way of overcoming the frustrations that life builds for me, to vent the hurts I have and sometimes provide the joy of being creative. A ... more

  • Donia Voss (6/2/2013 2:53:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

    Poetry is art of words. There are no rules with poetry, feel and allow yourself to express whatever it is you feeling.
    Some of the best poets were unmasked after heartbreak.
    story of my life.

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    • Itai Oscar (6/16/2013 12:47:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      This website has unveiled the poet in me. I used to use my imaginations and keep them to myself but now I express myself through poetry.

  • Kanniappan Kanniappan (6/2/2013 4:36:00 AM) Post reply Stage

    Hi,
    I think the poetry should have a good idea and subject.
    It should be formed in paragraphs with equal lines.
    It should not be a long one or paragraphs with unequal lines in each.
    We can write first, we should not post immediately.
    Look for suitable words, suitable rhymes, take some time, even a few days.
    You can arrange, rearrange and finalize the poem.

    I am interested in writing poems of Shakespeare style, but I think it needs lot of training.
    V.K.Kanniappan

  • Niki Nicholas Nkuna (5/29/2013 8:38:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    Hi! i'm Niki Nicholas Nkuna, a novice in the poetry writing field. I would very much appreciate comments on my poems. I had comments that are encouraging but with no tips. As a new comer I believe my poems can't that great. Comments will be very much appreciated. Please have a look at one of my poems below:
    Hazy view
    I’m wide awake in the sphere of my capability,
    Hazy brain, Hazy vision,
    I manoeuvre in the sphere of my capability,
    Wobbling and falling,
    My mother’s hands, my trestle and guide,
    I’m wide awake in the sphere of my age,

    Out of all I see, I see my mother clear,
    My eyes and brain stretched,
    To fathom maternal teachings,
    I see through the mist all things,
    And people around me,
    My mother always in the clear,
    Clad in angelic white dress,
    I’m wide awake in the sphere of my height,

    I hear so many voices around me,
    Some melodic, some monotonous,
    All meaningless to my brain capability,
    Their smiles louder than their singing,
    Unlike my mother’s lullaby song,
    Louder, clear and fathomable to tender age,
    Only in her presence,
    Do I see clearly with my insipid brain,
    I began to smile back to the apparitions,
    Sometimes laughing like a Chinese shaken teddy bear,
    I’m wide awake in the sphere of my brain,

    My excitement belie understanding,
    Of what’s happening around me,
    My laughter camouflage my poor,
    Attentiveness all the time,
    Laughing at nothing like nutting,
    Becoming a joke in the face of clarity,
    I’m awake in the sphere of my attentive level,

    In some environments my small eyes,
    Ears and brain were respected,
    I saw nothing and heard nothing,
    That could damage my age,
    Occasionally I would defy respect,
    And got myself hurt,
    In the present and long time to come,
    Some things my parents let freedom reign,
    Letting me see everything,
    My brain muddled in the flood of events,
    Parents’ car taking me to the shop or to church,
    Everything else moving backward,
    I never understood it and never asked,
    Thanks to the years of brain growth,
    That coincides with the steadying of the objects,
    That moved backwards,
    While my parents’ car moved forward.

    I began to talk, see better,
    But with less understanding,
    A nuisance I became with my small motor mouth,
    Answers I sought but with no patience to hear,
    I shot not with shrapnel of bullets but a staccato of bullets,
    I became a laughing stalk or a derisive object,
    All I heard louder was, puerile,
    Knows nothing, stupid, nutting,
    Too small to understand,
    My small brain became a glutton,
    Gulping at everything bitter and sweet,

    My reaction clownish assuaging intended pain,
    Giggling in hidden places and crying at times,
    Being overwhelmed by disregard and aplomb,
    Bitten at times for encroaching on forbidden deeds,
    My fragile age was to blame all along,
    That forced everything to recoil into my tender brain,
    It never let loose the ill-gotten contents,
    For I’m the only one who held the key,
    I’m wide awake in the sphere of my capability,

    Inquisitiveness brought me light, thus I cling to it,
    Despite the thorny answers I got at times,
    Beatings, scolds and chasings, I grew up nevertheless,
    Nobody could prevent that,

    Reaching adulthood I came to know,
    How to distinguish the colours,
    What to ask, what not to ask,
    And grew up with hidden feelings,
    Nevertheless persevere in the storage of goods,
    I dispensed the goods with the age of courage,
    Received what I bargained for,
    Or short changed at times,

    Now I’m faced with the same situation,
    My mother myself, my parents myself,
    I have become, with horror I realised,
    Let the tender motor mouth blabber,
    I will answer them in the sphere of their brain,
    In all respects, small, medium and large,
    Now I know they never threw away anything,
    That got through their eyes, ears into their brains,
    They have small brains but complete in make,
    That should be respected like a small car,

    N Nkuna, May 2012

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    • Obi Yindal (6/11/2013 11:18:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      I love your poem. Advice.

    • Niki Nicholas Nkuna (6/8/2013 3:43:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      Hi! Roger Thanks for the advise, I normally write poems of various lengths, not because I want my poems to look impressive, it depends on the story I'm telling through the poems. yOUR Friend in ... more

  • Jan Sand (5/21/2013 7:28:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    Although this is an area that might be full of personal viewpoints my own feeling is that poetry is where language intersects communication in a very special way. Many of the poems I see here are, to my mind, prose arranged in lines to mimic poetry. The visual shape of a poem must, in my opinion feel out the vocalization of a poem and there is a musical quality out of rhyme, rhythm, alteration and a sort of spacial sculpture of ideas that reach across each other with the various mechanics of language. Most of my poems are conceived by my unconscious mind and the words emerge in a kind of zen automatism. The actual writing usually takes about ten or fifteen minutes.
    Here is an example of one of my better pieces.

    Formation

    The patterns of the world wash in
    Across the sands of mind
    And ripple through the thoughts which drift
    And scatter unaligned
    'Til gently rocking back and forth
    Their edges catch and bind.

    They bind and mat in patterns that
    Echo those outside
    To map the weavings of the world
    That glisten, slip and slide
    And change in forms extremely strange
    Which shatter and collide.

    We construct ourselves upon
    These waves of sight and sound
    Collecting from these drifting thoughts
    An entity that's bound
    To shifting inside structures
    And whatever runs aground.

    Replies for this message:
    • Jan Sand (5/29/2013 5:51:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      Although rhyme and metaphor and rhythm come naturally to me I would be careful about ruling out all variations of form. There are quite a few variations of the sonnet form that still engage other and ... more

    • James Kastner (5/25/2013 7:17:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      I agree fully with your thought about most free verse (even by some well respected poets) really being prose broken up into lines withoout any apparent thought to rhythm and sound. Rhythm is what ma ... more

  • Roger Horsch (5/17/2013 11:32:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    Here is a good observation. I have read many of your poems. Some are good, some are great and some are just poems that could be great, but are lacking in the love and emotion that I know could make them great. It is as if some of you are writing just to get as many poems out and posted as you can. With hope that a good one will appear out of the bunch. Always Remember this. All of your poems can be a masterpiece if you only take your time, write from your heart with full emotion and maintain good flow. You must have good flow. Without these things they are just another OK poem. Most of you and you know who you are, have been blessed with a wonderful gift of writing poetry. Always write as if the blessing you have been given is worth everything you are.

    Your friend in poetry

    Roger Horsch

  • Donnaj York (5/16/2013 9:11:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies Stage

    Not normally one to post poems in the discussion forums, but this one kind of tells " how" , and why I write. Not that I think I am in any way am worthy of advising anyone..........but sometimes I just feel like sharing.


    Inside Out

    A delicious secret will yield to a smile
    And amazement makes you gasp out loud
    Anger’s intensity necessitates screaming
    At sleep, you can’t prohibit dreaming

    As tiredness will compel a yawn
    Darkness must give way to dawn
    Hilarity, with abandon spills out a laugh
    Curious as a cat, you can’t help but ask

    An aching inside gives flow to tears
    Pounding heart coincides with fear
    Deep satisfaction sets free a sigh
    When grieving you can’t help but cry

    Fertile emotions can’t be suppressed
    Poignant outpourings spilling into script
    The pouring out, is the filling, of the lyricist
    Cleansing by disclosure of consequence

    Replies for this message:
    • Roger Horsch (5/17/2013 2:22:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply Stage

      Donnaj York, This is a very good poem. I can tell that it comes from your heart. It flows so good with great description. We need more poets in this world that can write like you just did. Keep ... more


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  • Soumita Sarkar (5/15/2013 11:34:00 PM) Post reply Stage

    hi............I invite and request to read my poems and tell me more about their genesis and effect..................i will be grateful.Thank you. Soumia Sarkar

  • Roger Horsch (5/12/2013 11:49:00 PM) Post reply | Read 6 replies Stage

    Hello everyone, Here is some information that could help a lot of poets
    .
    To make your poems great you must always make sure that they have good flow. What I mean by flow is. Picture in your mind how water flows smoothly downward and over rounded obstacles. The flow seems to be uninhibited and everything flows together smoothly. But if there is an obstacle such as a sharp rock or a tree branch in the water it can cause ripples thus causing the water not to flow smoothly. The difference between good, very good or great can be nothing else but the flow of your poem. Always go over your poems over and over again changing what is necessary to make them flow. Always remember that if your poems motivate you and they are drawn from your emotions and your heart to the point that you can feel them. And they have good flow. You will always have the best.

    Keep writting and I invite all to read my poems to see what I mean about the flow of a poem. Roger Hoesch

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    • Gulsher John (7/20/2013 11:56:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      Your views regarding FLOW (form) is much appreciable..... and i would like to add something that will turn this flow into a paragliding....flow is much better but if your thoughts glide then fancy th ... more

    • James Kastner (5/25/2013 7:46:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      Depending on the tone of the poem and the theme and subject matter, sometimes you want an easy, natural flow without enjambed lines. However, other times you may want those tree branches, sharp rocks ... more

    • Myla Rose Gigante (5/16/2013 1:38:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      definitely.. thanks for that! :)

    • Myla Rose Gigante (5/16/2013 1:35:00 AM) Post reply Stage

      definitely... thanks for that! ! ^_^

    • Donnaj York (5/15/2013 11:20:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      Just as some " singers" are to ... more

    • Greg Davidson (5/13/2013 7:25:00 PM) Post reply Stage

      Such very good advice. How often do we ... more

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