O Poetry Poem by Valerie Dohren

O Poetry

Rating: 4.6


O poetry, you fickle thing
You bring both joy and suffering
And some may say I am obsessed -
You give me neither peace nor rest

Each verse that in my mind is born
If not quite right leaves me forlorn
And so to ponder through the night
If all the lines are ‘loose' or ‘tight'

And will the meaning full connect
A challenge to my intellect
If not, then in the light of day
Adverse critique shall come my way

And furthermore each line should be
Designed to work in harmony
With words selected as to rhyme
Along with rhythm beating time

O poetry, you steal my mind
To heed your call I am resigned
Within your world obliged to dwell
And spend my time bound by your spell

Friday, April 11, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Poetry
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Bill Cantrell 11 April 2014

Wow, this is a masterpiece, this is a path that many poets find themselves on, I know this has been the case with me, BRAVO! !

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Tirupathi Chandrupatla 11 April 2014

O poetry, you steal my mind Through your poem you have rightly pointed out the burdens that the poet carries. Every line becomes a great responsibility. It is not like writing something and get away with it. One has to face the readers who tend to believe what is printed or posted. One must note these realities. In spite of all this trouble an appreciative word provides relief to the poet. Great poem. We get inspired by your poem. Thank you.

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Dave Walker 11 April 2014

A great poem, we are slaves to poetry, no matter how long we stay away we always end up coming back. The words have us under a spell.

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Look what you have done Val. You have imprisoned your self as a free captive of poetry. Yet you refuse to walk our of your own poetic imprisonment. Yet you are free-, yet you are great! Well done my friend!

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Thomas Vaughan Jones 12 April 2014

I strongly suspect that you have a muse on your shoulder, who pops out at regular intervals and dictates a poem to your id. Little sonic echoes from deep within your subconscious. Then you reflect on it a little, marvel at where it came from, add a few refinements of your own, tone up the meter and away you go. Is that not so, Poetess?

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Chris G. Vaillancourt 07 May 2014

Intriguing poem...i liked this allot...well done!

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Mihaela Pirjol 22 April 2014

Such a lovely poem on Poetry!

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Unwritten Soul 19 April 2014

Sweets and candies for readers! _Soul

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Ray Quesada 17 April 2014

Fantastic, as usual, Valerie!

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Sandra Feldman 16 April 2014

So true, so beautifully and well expressed 10/10 Poetry is the master and we are her slaves, But who would not drown in her fantastic waves?

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