poems about poets

Beggar | Lucia Daramus - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Beggar | Lucia Daramus

I am alone. Alone. Alone!
I’m crying in the middle of the street
and my howl is green
the madness which I am growing is black
my father kept my hand
and he said me
you will eat a bread from the place
where is your soul !
How truth and how untruth
I’m hungry
truly hungry
my soul is in poetry
the poetry fill the brain and heart
I’m writing poetry from my dark loneliness
I’m writing with blood and
and –
with my horses herd from my mind
waiting the death
as a blue- red pillar of fair
and over these the white bird
from my soul
but I am a beggar, a poet- beggar

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We Will Not Go Gently | Tamsen Grace - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

We Will Not Go Gently | Tamsen Grace

Polite people do not become poets

We, the unmannered
offer no apologies,
for blaspheming love in our soliloquies,
scavengers of wisdom,
measuring out the world
with our metaphors,
step by step

with our words,
we can wipe out dysfunction
and create a new anthology

death will come,
someday,
for all us poets and our words,
but we will not go gently

Poet's Son | Carl "Papa" Palmer - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Poet’s Son | Carl “Papa” Palmer

The poem may have been about you,
though it didn’t mention you by name.
So the you could actually be any you.

And the me. I admit the me is me
or was me when I wrote the poem,
not necessarily the me I am today.

It’s just a poem about a poet’s son.
I have poems of a poet’s daughter,
wife, father, mother, sister, brother.

Poems of my grand boys, grand girls,
with hopes that someday I’ll write
poems of my great grandchildren, too.

The Songs of the Poets That Fill Their Hearts with Longing | Rising of the Sun - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

The Songs of the Poets That Fill Their Hearts with Longing | Rising of the Sun

When are we to be saved when we disregard helpful fact?
When are we to be free from misty mind?
Folks of today!
When are we to consider not the truth?
Truth afore our plain eyes…. less important.
When’ll our mind be clear from ash and cinder?
When we disregard our past… our “Now” near perplix miles.
Answer placed at the socket of our hearts.
Why do we fancy not tips that helps brownish teeths look attractive.
Junks everywhere…. placed beneath, hang in altitude.
Why do we waste our goody assets on blinks?
It won’t last!
Why do we keep our eyes to deadly poison?
You know how it hurt and the burning pains wrath on skin.
Why do we keep our eyes to enmity?
World are destroyed.
Globe are unsold.
Lifes are lost and tears of blood that gleam on slow track in sad rudiment.
We wreck ourselves everyday, we wreck our help, we wreck our hope in help and can we wreck the wreck that hope no grace in us.
See tears.. evryday it grows like sour fruits of Eden.
Why do we keep all our sensory organs to what wreck ourpeace?

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