Learn More

Writing Poetry

Post a message
  • Rookie - 10 Points Niki Nicholas Nkuna (5/29/2013 8:38:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies
    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.

    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

    Replies for this message:
  • Rookie - 7 Points Jan Sand (5/21/2013 7:28:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    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.


    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:
    • Rookie - 7 Points Jan Sand (5/29/2013 5:51:00 AM) Post reply

      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

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

      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

  • Rookie - 111 Points Roger Horsch (5/17/2013 11:32:00 PM) Post reply

    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

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

    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:
    • Rookie Roger Horsch (5/17/2013 2:22:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      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

    To read all of 2 replies click here
  • Rookie - 792 Points Soumita Sarkar (5/15/2013 11:34:00 PM) Post reply

    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

  • Rookie - 111 Points Roger Horsch (5/12/2013 11:49:00 PM) Post reply | Read 6 replies

    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

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie - 111 Points Gulsher John (7/20/2013 11:56:00 PM) Post reply

      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

    • Rookie - 111 Points James Kastner (5/25/2013 7:46:00 AM) Post reply

      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

    • Rookie - 111 Points Myla Rose Gigante (5/16/2013 1:38:00 AM) Post reply

      definitely.. thanks for that! :)

    • Rookie - 111 Points Myla Rose Gigante (5/16/2013 1:35:00 AM) Post reply

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

    • Rookie - 111 Points Donnaj York (5/15/2013 11:20:00 PM) Post reply

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

    • Rookie - 111 Points Greg Davidson (5/13/2013 7:25:00 PM) Post reply

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

  • Rookie - 8 Points Sharron Stephenson (5/12/2013 5:41:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    I am going through a problem with writing at the moment it is not the wall I just cannot write what is in my head what can I do

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie - 8 Points James Kastner (5/25/2013 7:59:00 AM) Post reply

      Roger is right in that if you are trying to force a poem, it usually only leads to frustration. Sometimes a break is what you need. There are some other ideas to help you break out of your block. T ... more

    • Rookie - 8 Points Roger Horsch (5/12/2013 1:18:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

      Hello Sharron, This has happened at several times to me and I am sure it has happened to others. First take a break from writing just to put your thinking mind at rest. You are like many others that ... more

  • Rookie Jepri Ali Saiful (5/12/2013 3:41:00 AM) Post reply

    An angle dove

    A dove flies above this trinity’s Buddhist temple
    Whom do I have to say to..??
    I hope Brahma can change the dove to be an angel
    To avoid Siwa to hate to..! !

    it is my poem, please give some opinions

  • Rookie Sophia Engel (5/11/2013 10:54:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    The Black Stallion
    By Sophia Engel

    Aloft the wind
    I ride the night sky
    I see the world through a much different eye
    Rural, black and Deadly I am

    Power, beauty
    Strength and grace
    I feel the spirits of ancestral space
    I speak the unspoken word
    of mother natures brutal world
    Rushing winds
    And tearing storms
    Threatening yet not achieving
    To bring me down

    Pride of herd
    The leader
    The stallion
    Sisters and brothers
    I live ever-watchful standing by others
    Watching, listening
    For threat and danger

    We run and gallop
    Through wind and rain
    Never stopping
    Never resting
    A kaleidoscope of colors
    Flying through the forest pride
    Through nettles, thorn and deadly tide
    The short, the tall, the long of mane
    No two ever the same

    I know the chance
    I know the fear
    I know the forest ways
    I live on the edge
    For death crouches near
    I feel its breath on my neck

    On my back I carry a load
    Through storm and calm
    Ever vigilant and bold
    Strength and bravery rage inside me
    Natures will always guide me
    Through wind and rain
    To high and low
    Over cliffs and Mountain tops

    I have died in battle twice already
    Killed by man
    Hunted by predator as I roamed the land

    Yet I survive
    I take each step with pride
    I am ever loyal to those who seek
    The free life, the wild life
    For I am feral and wild
    For I am the Black stallion
    The King of the wild

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie James Kastner (5/25/2013 8:08:00 AM) Post reply

      There are a lot of very nice things in this poem, particularly in the first two stanzas and in the repetition in the fifth stanza. I'd be happy to give you more specific notes which, of course, you c ... more

  • Rookie - 29 Points Badboy Vibes (5/9/2013 2:01:00 PM) Post reply | Read 3 replies

    Discuss ways to improve your poetry.....THIS DOES NOT MEAN POST YOUR POEMS HERE.
    Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas about how to write better....AGAIN, THIS DOES NOT MEAN POST YOUR POEMS HERE.

    It is so annoying to see these self obsessed attention seekers destroying these forums.And even more pathetic the few who reply to them and encourage it.
    Get help and stop posting ya crap here ffs

    Replies for this message:
    • Rookie - 29 Points James Kastner (5/25/2013 8:30:00 AM) Post reply

      If you don't like a post or the responses to a post, just move on to a post which interests you. Others have a right to post what they want to, as you have a right not to read it and move on. Comment ... more

    • Rookie - 29 Points James Kastner (5/25/2013 8:16:00 AM) Post reply

      I guess I have too responses to your post. First of all, if you don't like a particular post and attached comments, don't read it and move on to a post that intrests you. That is basically my respons ... more

    • Rookie - 29 Points Donnaj York (5/10/2013 10:10:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      What is worse in my opinion, is that when someone does use the forum for its intended purpose, no one will respond. Is communication a dying, (or dead) , art?

[Hata Bildir]