Anyone write poetry?

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    poetic harpist on #215399

    I started about 7 or 8 months ago. I think I’ve got about 210 poems so far. Mostly in English but a handful in Irish.

    poetic harpist on #215444


    snoopy lee on #215453

    I’ve been writing off and on for four years, but you’ve already written twice as many poems as I have! Care to share one of your favorites?

    poetic harpist on #215462

    This one is “True Love True Loss”:

    He may not have meant me to take it the way I did

    Robin Williams once said that true loss is only possible if you love something more than you love yourself

    Loss is unnatural — as people, we are not to lose
    We were never supposed to lose anything
    We are to know no feeling of loss

    We love and we do so in abundance
    In surplus even
    And ultimately we are to love ourselves supremely

    We are the apple of our own eye
    the object of our own affections
    the auto-pursuit of our own searing desires

    As we love ourselves supremely, beyond all measure
    beyond reasonable doubt and beyond doubt unreasonable
    then how on earth could we ever love anything in excess of this?

    For you see, true loss is only possible if you love something more than you love yourself

    If you truly love yourself, then truly you have nothing to lose

    snoopy lee on #215502

    Hey — free verse! (That’s what it’s called, right?) A lot of my poems come out that way, too. I like yours a lot.

    And I know you didn’t post it for feedback, but I wanted to say that you’ve made good use of spacing here and I really appreciate it! Some free verse poems that I’ve read are disjointed at odd places, which may be okay to some people, but just makes the whole thing feel unnatural to me. I think it’s important to emphasize each part of the poem and not cramp it, but the writer shouldn’t chop it up either. You made this easy to digest. I like how it is plainly written, yet is still thoughtful and reflective.

    So are your other poems in this style, or does it vary? I don’t know anyone in my life who writes… I’m really curious (and maybe over-excited). Sorry!

    poetic harpist on #215557

    It’s rare that I start with a particular rhyming scheme, or any kind of idea at all for how to write a poem.

    Mostly I just write the words as they come to me.

    hearpe on #215561

    I used to write some – I never got far trying to get them published back before the internet and e-books. I read a lot of poetry-my favorite is “Jaberwocky”

    Here’s a very short one I wrote in 1985, the year before my “birth”.
    somewhat telling I think:

    We grab me out of thin air
    And pull me closer
    to the invisible infinite
    to disappear

    Well, not my best- but maybe shortest.

    hearpe on #215562

    Anyone doing much poetry recitation to harp?- I’ve got a great volume o Irish poetry I’ve thought about trying to “score” somehow, But downloads take so long now that I’m getting more decrepit.

    snoopy lee on #215563

    I’ve never been able to plan my poems either, they like to write themselves. If you want to share more poetry I’d love to read it!

    hearpe on #215564

    I found this one that mentions harp long before I ever took it up


    Within the trees
    the wind is a gentle sound
    with invisible fingers uncounted
    caressing the leaves with a beckoning lilt

    From afar you hear her coming
    swirling in sedate serenity
    A wispy ghost musician
    delicately touching her forest harp
    dancing as an unspoiled child
    linear with invisible ageless purpose
    and yet always with a personage and mood all her own

    The wind and I have had many conversations
    although it is not English she speaks
    Her accent is the scent of her perfumed foliage
    that resonates with the chirping of her winged children
    As she lifts them from their timber, to timbre

    Within the trees the wind has a lover:
    The water and rain from the sky
    Here they merge and linger
    And as he dews, he dresses her in hues
    As they nurture all their forest children
    and all the forest life

    Yet, Within the City
    The wind becomes a force
    As through the rigid corridors
    of brick and steel
    She is funneled and stampeded
    To buffet in vain all that’s sturdy
    And to rock and shake all that yields

    Like a cat, she’ll pounce upon you
    her exhausted claws attacking your eyes and nostrils
    while she shrieks and moans
    abetting the voices of the roaring warring dinosaurs
    that swirl and twirl and scatter her
    to here and there (like common air!)
    and stain her tones
    with the burnt blood of their own

    Within the city
    The wind and water are seldom more than passing strangers
    The water is quickly channeled
    to the gutters and sewers
    or whipped and bounced by her caged animal fury and frenzy
    To prematurely evaporate and disappear
    back into the misty clouds on high
    she drives with impunity across the cloudy sky.

    • This reply was modified 3 years, 4 months ago by hearpe.
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