Poetry

Although most hardly notice,
My words are those of a poet.
Touching, much of it was.
Wasn't it?
Most of us loving it ‘cause

Of the love that wasn’t thought of enough.
Or taught

To the daughters of husbands and such.
Causing even to harden the hearts of us sons.

 

So, pardon the pun,
But creative was my creation.
Or when my creator created me;
Creating me a creature
More creative than creation.
See?

 

I'm as vivid as imagery.
As fluid as music beats.
And as fluent as the notes you see
On music sheets.

 

So, when you see me,
A poet you may label me,
But, a poem I was formed to be.
So formless, I am, in each form
That I chose to speak.

 

Forming forums and stanzas
Each time I stand up.
With a standard so demanding
It'll make men man up.

 

I'm a feeling, when close enough,
Most can't touch.
A process most approach
But can't rush.
A feather that those who boost
Can't budge.
And, at times,
A both minus and plus.

 

And plus, I love to personify my person.
I am a rhyme I've noticed.
So, when I rhyme, I'm perfect.

Though at times my insides get nervous.
When mixing and matching words
In ways most of the world
Has never even heard yet.

 

Yet, I know

My words proclaim a stronger courage.
Making sense where sentences can't.
Answering answers to questions asked
When trying to understand.
Infusing prose with metaphors
That were meant of course
To force hearts to talk.

 

And that gift was mine by choice.
But the choice was not mine to choose.
It was He who chose me
To use a deeper voice
Turned hoarse after being beaten,
Tortured, used, and abused;
Forced
To use noise as a means to commune.

 

 

So, excuse me, but it is true.
I do complicate simple similes
That were meant to compliment,
And soothe the senses of the common men.
Hence, I am common sense.
Bringing others through consciousness.

Reviews

[Blue Bard]

I'm a feeling, when close enough,
Most can't touch.
A process most approach
But can't rush.
A feather that those who boost
Can't budge.
And, at times,
A both minus and plus.

Art, You are my favorite poet on this site and you know, if you read my reviews, I don't blow up anyone's a*s. I have some on here who have felt cut up by my reviews, though that is never my intention. Here's my prediction. Somewhere down the line, somebody's going to be teaching how to write poetry using your work. Your the best word player I know personally. The stanza abover is a wonderful example 'A feather those that boost can't budge." The simple irony. It should be light, but for some it is o so heavy. Then there's this little part,
Yet, I know
My words proclaim a stronger courage.
Making sense where sentences can't.
Answering answers to questions asked
When trying to understand.
Infusing prose with metaphors
That were meant of course
To force hearts to talk.
So many people want to rhyme and end up sounding like Edna St. Vincent Milay if she were on crack. Man, I wish others on here would listen to word sounds and realize that they don't have to rhyme to move a piece and make it have a sound resonance. I HATE FORCED RHYME and never once have I seen you force it. "My words proclaim a stronger course, making sense where sentences can't. I can think of no better description of poetry. That coming together of word sounds, same sounding letters, etc. This is absolutely fantastic. Keep sending them man, please. I can wait to read them.

[David P. Eckert]

Art, this is just excellent. The rhythm, rhyme, alliteration, you've got it all going here. And on top of that you masterfully describe how the poet is, what the poet does, and perhaps from whence the poet's gift derives. Bravo!

David

[R. Torres]

Damn! You have evolved within yourself, from artistic to 'soulistic'. Without question one of my favorites. Thank you Art. I am very glad you sent me this. Brilliant!

[R. Gene MacDonald]

That was cool. You use words so fluidly and have such a touch that it all flows perfectly. I like the idea also, though common sense is anything but common.

[Poetic Lyricist]

I'm as vivid as imagery.
As fluid as music beats.
And as fluent as the notes you see
On music sheets.

I love the way you quoted this piece in the story. Something I would use. Keep it up sweetie! I love it.

[H. A. M.]

Okay ,,,,this was awsome!
"Forming forums and stanzas
Each time I stand up.
With a standard so demanding
It'll make men man up. " This was funny.
"So, excuse me, but it is true.
I do complicate simple similes
That were meant to compliment,
And soothe the senses of the common men.
Hence, I am common sense." ,,and I like the word play! This was too cool! Thanks for sharing this!

[R George]

To force hearts to talk...that is always my intention, and it seems lost most of the time.

you indeed are Common Sense.

love, love, love

[Joi-zulema]

Flows so well. It is as if I actually hear you speaking it!

"I'm a feeling, when close enough,
Most can't touch.
A process most approach
But can't rush.
A feather that those who boost
Can't budge.
And, at times,
A both minus and plus."

I love this stanza. It expresses how words can mean so much and so little to a variety of people. The art of interpretation and perception is so well expressed in this stanza!

-j

[Maria Retz]

This poem goes straight to my favourite.

I love it.

This is so well written and poetic that it made me freeze of joy

Thank you for sharing this, wow, wow, wow

GOOD JOB :-)

[SolomonSavant ~ The Rog..]

"So, when you see me,
A poet you may label me,
But, a poem I was formed to be.
So formless, I am, in each form
That I chose to speak.


Forming forums and stanzas
Each time I stand up.
With a standard so demanding
It'll make men man up."

That's truth right there. Poetry is one of the most powerful mediums. Troubadors and traveling minstrils spoke more than sang. They were orators, and in rhyme history was passed from generation to generation. Poets spread the news at the kings decree, but the same poets twisted it to SAY the kings message while hiding the truth within... Like you did with this poem. Yeah... You're not a poem. You are poetry.

[Bubo]

And that gift was mine by choice.
But the choice was not mine to choose.
It was He who chose me
To use a deeper voice
Turned hoarse after being beaten
Tortured, used, and abused;
Forced
To use noise as a means to commune.


So, excuse me, but it is true.
I do complicate simple similes
That were meant to compliment,
And soothe the senses of the common men.
Hence, I am common sense.

Why can't I write like this?
I have to say I found this a very emotional trip, a trip that began with a man who was very boastful of his talent, but eventually we see in side why he is so...........I felt like crying, because how i feel you have displayed in words.This is without a doubt the best poem I have read since i joined........because I don't drop tears easily.
Thank you for sharing with me.