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Poetry In The Mature 21st Century

ဧရာ၀တီ:
hand is a hand.poetry is poetry.poems have titles or untitled titled but poems are poems; a problems of not being to conceptualize the differentiate name or genre is a problems of technique and subtance of a poem which itself has no substance; a paradoxical depths of simplicity on being-becoming-doing- process- product pradym of contemporary culture.

poem by Nyein Way
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A Map Of Culture

Culture

Contents

What is Culture?

The Importance of Culture

Culture Varies

Culture is Critical

The Sociobiology Debate

Values, Norms, and Social Control

Signs and Symbols

Language

Terms and Definitions

Approaches to the Study of Culture

Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?

What is Culture?

I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .

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poem by Nyein Way
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Consumed Within the Process

Consumed within the process
That process we call life.
Immuned? Not from this process.
It keeps the vision near yet uncompromised.
And far enough to become realized.

Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!

Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!

Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!

Consumed within the process.
That process we call life.
Immuned?
Not from this process!

It keeps the vision near yet uncompromised.
And far enough to become realized.
Closing its eyes only when it wishes,
To call itself out!

Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!

Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Catholic Contradictions

This Poem will speak to Peter,
Of the priest and the folly,
This poem doubts not the sincerity of true worshipers,
It will speak to the cult, the club, their Peter, the images of idolatry
This poem will address the indoctrination, the assumptions and contradictions,
This poem will expose and explode,
This poem will speak of the council of Valencia and the “forbidden book”
This poem will speak of the mass “hoc est enim corpus meum'
And the continuous re-enactment of the Death of Jesus
This poem will smite the conscience, rend the hearts, and heal the willing
This poem will speak of purgatory
Of priesthood
Of indulgences
Of penance
Of confessions and the “confessors”
Of papal decrees
And of the mortal and venial sins,
This Poem, this poem will speak of the “Virgin Mary” and the harlot,
This poem will confirm the marriage of Christ’s Peter
Of the Roman Universal contradictions and papal infallibility
This poem will speak of the assurance of salvation
And the curse of the Council of Trent
This poem will speak of the “Arian heresy”
Of “Cyprian and the lapsed”
Of the works of “Athanasius Contra Mundum”
Of Athanasius to the Bishop of Egypt
This poem will speak of the incarnation of the divine word
Orations against the Arians and against Apollinaris
This poem will speak of John Chrysostom, (golden mouth)
This poem will speak of his ethical applications and the trouble with the emperor’s wife
This poem will speak of Augustine and his forgotten works,
“In the spirit and the letter”, “Confession”, the “city of God “
The battle against the “Donatist” “Manichean” The “Arians” the “Pelagians”
This poem will speak of the Theology of “Anselm”
Of “Thomas Aquinas” and the Sum of Theology
This poem will talk of the “council of Nicea”
This poem will speak of Constantine and his cross of battle
The grandeur of “St Peter’s Basilica” the glory of man void of God’s presence
This poem will speak of the “Patriarchal City” and the protagonist
This poem will be persecuted, burnt, torn and ridiculed
This poem will never be read by Catholics,
It will not be verified to see the deception of Rome and the Pope,
This poem can read your mind, how you think Pope can never do wrong
This poem sees your bent determination to resist Truth
This poem will talk of Martin Luther, Ulrich Zwingli and John Calvin
This poem will be rejected by America, Britain, France, Russian, and Africa
This poem must be hated, by worshiper of Dead Mary and his statue
This poem will be scorned and attacked
This poem will bring shame to the writer; he will be sick or insane in the mind of the readers
This poem will not be read in Jerusalem, Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch,

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poem by Macaulay Akinbami
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Sola Christos, Sola Scriptura, Sola Gracious, Sola Fide' and the Priesthood

This Poem will speak to Peter,
Of the priest and the folly,
This poem doubts not the sincerity of true worshipers,
It will speak to the cult, the club, their Peter, the images of idolatry
This poem will address the indoctrination, the assumptions and contradictions,
This poem will expose and explode,
This poem will speak of the council of Valencia and the “forbidden book”
This poem will speak of the mass “hoc est enim corpus meum'
And the continuous re-enactment of the Death of Jesus
This poem will smite the conscience, rend the hearts, and heal the willing
This poem will speak of purgatory
Of priesthood
Of indulgences
Of penance
Of confessions and the “confessors”
Of papal decrees
And of the mortal and venial sins,
This Poem, this poem will speak of the “Virgin Mary” and the harlot,
This poem will confirm the marriage of Christ’s Peter
Of the Roman Universal contradictions and papal infallibility
This poem will speak of the assurance of salvation
And the curse of the Council of Trent
This poem will speak of the “Arian heresy”
Of “Cyprian and the lapsed”
Of the works of “Athanasius Contra Mundum”
Of Athanasius to the Bishop of Egypt
This poem will speak of the incarnation of the divine word
Orations against the Arians and against Apollinaris
This poem will speak of John Chrysostom, (golden mouth)
This poem will speak of his ethical applications and the trouble with the emperor’s wife
This poem will speak of Augustine and his forgotten works,
“In the spirit and the letter”, “Confession”, the “city of God “
The battle against the “Donatist” “Manichean” The “Arians” the “Pelagians”
This poem will speak of the Theology of “Anselm”
Of “Thomas Aquinas” and the Sum of Theology
This poem will talk of the “council of Nicea”
This poem will speak of Constantine and his cross of battle
The grandeur of “St Peter’s Basilica” the glory of man void of God’s presence
This poem will speak of the “Patriarchal City” and the protagonist
This poem will be persecuted, burnt, torn and ridiculed
This poem will never be read by Catholics,
It will not be verified to see the deception of Rome and the Pope,
This poem can read your mind, how you think Pope can never do wrong
This poem sees your bent determination to resist Truth
This poem will talk of Martin Luther, Ulrich Zwingli and John Calvin
This poem will be rejected by America, Britain, France, Russian, and Africa
This poem must be hated, by worshiper of Dead Mary and his statue
This poem will be scorned and attacked
This poem will bring shame to the writer; he will be sick or insane in the mind of the readers
This poem will not be read in Jerusalem, Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch,

[...] Read more

poem by Macaulay Akinbami
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Z. Comments

CRYSTAL GLOW

Madhur Veena Comment: Who is she? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ....You write good!

Margaret Alice Comment: Beautiful, it stikes as heartfelt words and touches the heart, beautiful sentiments, sorry, I repeat myself, but I am delighted. Your poem is like the trinkets I collect to adorn my personal space, pure joy to read, wonderful! Only a beautiful mind can harbour such sentiments, you have a beautiful mind. I am glad you have found someone that inspires you to such heights and that you share it with us, you make the world a mroe wonderful place.

Margaret Alice Comment: Within the context set by the previous poem, “Cosmic Probe”, the description of a lover’s adoration for his beloved becomes a universal ode sung to the abstract values of love, joy and hope personified by light, colours, fragrance and beauty, qualities the poet assigns to his beloved, thus elevating her to the status of an uplifting force because she brings all these qualities to his attention. The poet recognises that these personified values brings him fulfilment and chose the image of a love relationship to illustrate how this comes about; thus a love poem becomes the vehicle to convey spiritual epiphany.

FRAGRANT JASMINE

Margaret Alice Comment: Your words seem to be directed to a divine entity, you seem to be addressing your adoration to a divinity, and it is wonderful to read of such sublime sentiments kindled in a human soul. Mankind is always lifted up by their vision and awareness of divinity, thank you for such pure, clear diction and sharing your awareness of the sublime with us, you have uplifted me so much by this vision you have created!

Margaret Alice Comment: The poet’s words seem to be directed to a divine entity, express adoration to a divinity who is the personification of wonderful qualities which awakens a sense of the sublime in the human soul. An uplifting vision and awareness of uplifting qualities of innocence represented by a beautiful person.

I WENT THERE TO BID HER ADIEU

Kente Lucy Comment: wow great writing, what a way to bid farewell

Margaret Alice Comment: Sensory experience is elevated by its symbolical meaning, your description of the scene shows two souls becoming one and your awareness of the importance of tempory experience as a symbol of the eternal duration of love and companionship - were temporary experience only valid for one moment in time, it would be a sad world, but once it is seen as a symbol of eternal things, it becomes enchanting.

I’M INCOMPLETE WITHOUT YOU

Margaret Alice Comment: You elevate the humnan experience of longing for love to a striving for sublimity in uniting with a beloved person, and this poem is stirring, your style of writing is effective, everything flows together perfectly.

Margaret Alice Comment:

'To a resplendent glow of celestial flow
And two split halves unite never to part.'

Reading your fluent poems is a delight, I have to tear myself away and return to the life of a drudge, but what a treasure trove of jewels you made for the weary soul who needs to contemplate higher ideals from time to time!

IN CELESTIAL WINGS

Margaret Alice Comment: When you describe how you are strengthened by your loved one, it is clear that your inner flame is so strong that you need not fear growing old, your spirit seems to become stronger, you manage to convey this impression by your striking poetry. It is a privilege to read your work.

Obed Dela Cruz Comment: wow.... i remembered will shakespeare.... nice poem!

Margaret Alice Comment: The poet has transcended the barriers of time and space by becoming an image of his beloved and being able to find peace in the joy he confers to his beloved.

'You transcend my limits, transcend my soul, I forget my distress in your thoughts And discover my peace in your joy, For, I’m mere image of you, my beloved.'

Margaret Alice Comment: You are my peace and solace, I know, I am, yours too; A mere flash of your thoughts Enlivens my tired soul And fills me with light, peace and solace, A giant in new world, I become, I rise to divine heights in celestial wings. How I desire to reciprocate To fill you with light and inner strength raise you to divine heights; I must cross over nd hold you in arms, light up your soul, Fill you with strength from my inner core, Wipe away your tears burst out in pure joy How I yearn to instill hope and confidence in you we never part And we shall wait, till time comes right. the flame in my soul always seeks you, you transcend my limits, transcend my soul, I forget my distress in your thoughts And discover my peace in your joy, For, I’m mere image of you, my beloved.

RAGING FIRE

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poem by Praveen Kumar
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This Is Not A Confessionam Poem

This is not a confessional poem
I confess that I have written this
Not a romantic poem
Under the watch of the archangel of Blake’s vision
A l=a=n=g=u=a=g=e= p=o=e=m=
A loaf Of poem a gallon Of words a pint Of letters
A so-so go for broke poem
So so son and so said
An acrostic poem
None near Aim to be called
Mindfully toward the Eternity of the thing
An epitaph poem
He lays David E. Patton
Never one to believe in heaven
So when he dies he did spy

A free verse poem
A sonnet poem
A know it all poem for the masses
This is not a minute poem
A didactic poem
A tongue poem
A villanelle poem
A sestina poem
An epic poem
A quinzaine poem
A rondelet poem
This is not a rondel poem
A cascade poem
A trijan refrain poem
A tanka poem
A taridet poem
A quatrain poem
If I lie this is not a list poem
To pin upon the sky
Set before the poet’s eye
I confess that I have written this
But this is not written to deceived anything but what is desired by the greediness of the eyes
This is not the growth of breath focused on the words with their mindful meaning stalled by the stack of sounds held in the syllables
This is not a sijo poem from the land of the morning calm
I confess that I know not what this is but all that it is not of what it would be forgot in the mispronounced want of the bony wants of the skin bag of my self
This is not the not of a poem trying to be born from the keyboard’s click and the memory of my hands
This is not an every man poem to understand it dose not caters to the common man
This is not a poem about Gods caught up in my mentioning of them they have taken their holy toys and gone home till the kingdom will come only the prelists priests are left to protest their secret order for getting into a heaven where nothing changes nothing like the rot of earth that feed upon the rotting of the living
This is not a this is not poem all that I have said can be washed away with the rain of your brain this poem can not save can not heal can not trill you into action
This is not a solitary crowed poem a cut-up poem feeding off itself
I have written it but it will not tell me what kind of poem it seem to be
This is not a poem to make you rough or pure or proud or increate your intellect to beguile the world with its new found wisdom
This is not a poem to set you free from the common drudgery of your day to day life it can not fend or feed you with the not of its substance can not set you to dance naked beneath the full moon can not fill you up with the pleasure of the pen
This is not a poem that seeks to befriend it has no mouth to consume you no hands to caress you no tongue to lick the words from your tears

[...] Read more

poem by David E. Patton
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Poetry...Poetry...

Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.

Poetry...Poetry...

Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.

Poetry...Poetry...

Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.

Poetry...Poetry...

Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.

Poetry...Poetry...

poem by Akash Agrawal
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Problems

I wont take no lies, hanging out all night
The gig is up, enough, its enough
Youre wrong, dead wrong, wont take no more
Cause I see your game and dumb is not my name
Pack your bags, call you a cab
No more laughs
Cause Im not the one that youre gonna play on
Move along, sing a song
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
Got love for you, but I cant stand you
I page you, you wont call
Whats a 2-way for
Strike one, strike two, strike three, no more me
Cause I see the game and dumbs not my name
Pack your bags, call you a cab
No more laughs
Cause Im not the one that youre gonna play on
Move along, sing a song
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
We can do this any way that
You want cause I dont care
Its no problem and Im not the one
Pack your bags, call you a cab
No more laughs
Cause Im not the one that youre gonna play on
Move along, sing a song
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
[over chorus]
Its plain to see, you cant have me

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song performed by Nivea
Added by Lucian Velea
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Youth Culture Killed My Dog

Youth culture (youth culture)
Youth culture (youth culture)
Youth culture (youth culture)
Youth culture (youth culture)
Youth culture killed my dog
And i don't think it's fair (i don't think it's fair)
And his suicide can be justified
By the tastemakers, how they cried and cried and so
Bacharach and david used to write his favorite songs
Never, never, never would he worry, he'd just run and fetch the ball
But the night lights and my dog's life aren't exactly one and the same
Youth culture killed my dog
And i don't think it's fair (i don't think it's fair)
And the judgement made in the city of hate
Just broke his spirit so
Bacharach and david used to write his favorite songs
Never, never, never would he worry, he'd just run and fetch the ball
But the hiphop and the white funk just blew away my puppy's mind
I don't understand what you did to my dog
And i don't understand what you did to my dog
I don't understand what you did to my dog
I don't understand what you did to my dog
Youth culture killed my dog (youth culture killed my dog)
And i don't think it's fair (i don't think it's fair)
And his suicide can be justified
By the tastemakers, how they cried and cried and so
Youth culture (youth culture)
Youth culture (youth culture)
Broke his spirit so (broke his spirit so)
Broke his spirit so
Youth culture (youth culture)
(youth culture)
Youth culture (youth culture)
(youth culture)
Broke his spirit so (broke his spirit so)
Broke his spirit so

song performed by They Might Be Giants
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An act of poetry

Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry

A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art

Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation

Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:

The pen be our salvation.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Pop and Culture

Peeps peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There's a peep on pop and culture,
With not a poop to stop.

They peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There is a peep on pop and culture,
Without a poop to stop.

Lady Gaga got that pop.
People peep on pop and culture.
Taylor Swift's got Country Rock.
People peep on pop and culture.
And Kanye's a social poppa.
People peep on pop and culture.
With Beyonce and Jay-Z,
Seen on top in magazines.

Peeps peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There's a peep on pop and culture,
With no poop to stop.

Peeps peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There's a peep on pop and culture,
With no poop to stop.

We feed on Beatles.
Those songs of Beatles.
We feed on Beatles.
And...
Prince is there with beats.
And Michael Jackson's Pop is sweet.

We feed on Beatles.
Those songs of Beatles.
We feed on Beatles.
And Lady Gaga just rocks.

We feed on Beatles.
And they introduced this culture shock.

Peeps peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There's a peep on pop and culture,
With not a poop to stop.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dj Culture

(tennant/lowe)
--------------
(attention! attention!
Trente-neuf, quarante)
Imagine a war which everyone won
Permanent holiday in endless sun
Peace without wisdom, one steals to achieve
Relentlessly, pretending to believe
Attitudes are materialistic, positive or frankly realistic
Which is terribly old-fashioned, isnt it?
Or isnt it?
(dj culture) dance with me
(dj culture) lets pretend
Living in a satellite fantasy
Waiting for the night to end
(dj culture dj d)
Lets pretend we won a war
Like a football match, ten-nil the score
Anythings possible, were on the same side
Or otherwise on trial for our lives
Ive been around the world for a number of reasons
Ive seen it all, the change of seasons
And i, my lord, may I say nothing?
(dj culture) dance with me
(dj culture) lets pretend
Living in a satellite fantasy
Waiting for the night to end (dj culture)
(dj culture) dance with me
(dj culture) lets pretend
Living in a satellite fantasy
Wondering whos your friend (dj culture)
Now as a matter of pride
Indulge yourself, your every mood
No feast-days, or fast-days, or days of abstinence intrude
Consider for a minute who you are (consider/who you are)
What youd like to change, never mind the scars (change)
Bury the past, empty the shelf (bury the past)
Decide its time to reinvent yourself (its time)
Like liz before betty, she after sean
Suddenly youre missing, then youre reborn
And i, my lord, may I say nothing?
(dj culture) (dance with me)
(dj culture) (dance with me)
Living in a satellite fantasy
Waiting for the night to end (dj culture)
(dj culture) dance with me
(dj culture) lets pretend
Living in a satellite fantasy
Wondering whos your friend (dj culture)
(dj culture) and i, my lord, (une foix)

[...] Read more

song performed by Pet Shop Boys
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This Poem

THIS POEM

This poem
This first poem
This last poem
This poem that invented Poetry
This one and only one poem
This fictional poem
This ideal poem
This perfect poem
This would – be holy poem
This unreal poem
This poem which is not a poem
This poem which is the essence of all poetry
This poem
And that poem
And my poem
And your poem
And all poems
Poem poem poem poem poem
This poem
Mine and yours
This one small poem of so so many
And not such a good poem at all.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Problems

Feat. coffee brown
Problems
Problems with your girl today
Problems
Problems with your man today
Situations
Hard to handle
Got me going out of my head
Theres so much pressure
I just cant deal
You think its all about
You and that sex appeal
But I got problems
(slickin around on the l to the hotel, all around town)
Let me know
(whos it gonna be, him or me)
It cant be three
Problems
Problems with your girl today
Problems
Problems with your girl today
[coffee brown]
Here we are
The two of us together
Taking this crazy chance
To be all alone
My man dont know
That we been loving each other
Cuz if he found out
Well have nothing
Nothing but
Problems
Problems with your man today
Problems
Problems with your man today
Problems
Problems with your man today
Problems
Problems with your man today
[next]
Said, can I get a witness
So many problems
Can I get a witness
[coffee]
Can I get a witness
So many problems
Can I get a witness
Problems
Problems with your girl today
Problems

[...] Read more

song performed by Next
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Problems (feat. Koffee Brown)

Problems
Problems with your girl today
Problems
Problems with your man today
situations hard to handle
got me goin out ofmy head
theres so much pressure
i just cant deal
you think its all about you
and that sex appeal
but i got problems
(slickin around on the "L" to the hotel all around town) let me know
(whos it gonna be him or me)
it cant be three
problems
problems with your girl today
problems
problems with your girl today
here we are
the two of us together
takin this crazy chance
to be all alone
my man dont know
that we been lovin eachother
cuz if he found out
we'll have nothin
nothin but
Problems
problems with your man today
problems
problems with your man today
problems
problems with your man today
problems
problems with your man today
said can i get a witness
so many problems
can i get a witness
can i get a witness
so many problems
can i get a witness
problems
problems with your girl today
problems
problems with your man today
problems
problems with your girl today
problems
problems with your man today

song performed by Next
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Poem Is Just A Poem

a poem is just a poem and if it is just a poem
it must be just a poem just like another poem

a poem is nothing but just a poem otherwise
it cannot be my poem; it may speak about

anything, or something, or about everything,
but my poem is just a poem just like anybody's

poem, which is just but a poem, like any other
poem, for a poem to be a poem it must just be

a poem: it has nothing to do with my love, and death
my life, or bliss, but as i have told you, once, twice

thrice, eat some rice, and be that wise, a poem is
just a poem, just like your poem. Why do you insist

on asking, what is happening to me? I am not a
poem, for i am but just the composer of the poem,

need i tell you again, that a poem is just a poem?
just like any other poem, which is just a poem

it is just a voice in my head that i have heard
someone comes and speaks and i listen so

this poem is not actually my poem but the poem
of someone else's: theirs not mine, from a mind.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On The Poet And Poetry: The Complete Text

1
Shakespeare and Kalidas and Homer
had no need to flaunt qualifications
so don’t trumpet too much of yours

2
in this kingdom
where one writes
there is no seniority, each is equal

3
it is not important to be a poet;
the thing is to bring the poetry

4
one may win titles
and may be crowned Poet Laureate:
but only time points out
the poet from the crumpet

5
none of your self
and none of your importance here:
just poetry, if you can,
poetry is all that’s needed

6
poetry can be
like a sky filled with wrangling clouds
or as a sky without a wisp

7
in poetry one wakes from dreams
and it may yet be
that one’s wakefulness is itself but a dream

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poem by Raj Arumugam
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Starting From Paumanok

STARTING from fish-shape Paumanok, where I was born,
Well-begotten, and rais'd by a perfect mother;
After roaming many lands--lover of populous pavements;
Dweller in Mannahatta, my city--or on
southern savannas;
Or a soldier camp'd, or carrying my knapsack and gun--or a miner in
California;
Or rude in my home in Dakota's woods, my diet meat, my drink from the
spring;
Or withdrawn to muse and meditate in some deep recess,
Far from the clank of crowds, intervals passing, rapt and happy;
Aware of the fresh free giver, the flowing Missouri--aware of mighty
Niagara;
Aware of the buffalo herds, grazing the plains--the hirsute and
strong-breasted bull; 10
Of earth, rocks, Fifth-month flowers, experienced--stars, rain, snow,
my amaze;
Having studied the mocking-bird's tones, and the mountainhawk's,
And heard at dusk the unrival'd one, the hermit thrush from the
swamp-cedars,
Solitary, singing in the West, I strike up for a New World.

Victory, union, faith, identity, time,
The indissoluble compacts, riches, mystery,
Eternal progress, the kosmos, and the modern reports.

This, then, is life;
Here is what has come to the surface after so many throes and
convulsions.

How curious! how real! 20
Underfoot the divine soil--overhead the sun.

See, revolving, the globe;
The ancestor-continents, away, group'd together;
The present and future continents, north and south, with the isthmus
between.

See, vast, trackless spaces;
As in a dream, they change, they swiftly fill;
Countless masses debouch upon them;
They are now cover'd with the foremost people, arts, institutions,
known.

See, projected, through time,
For me, an audience interminable. 30

With firm and regular step they wend--they never stop,
Successions of men, Americanos, a hundred millions;

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poem by Walt Whitman
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Poetry: What Is Poetry?

Poetry pleases my ears
that words sound in harmony,
but not to a foreign tongue.

Poetry draws a picture
to invite my eyes,
but still puzzles my mind.

Poetry blows with wind,
in water He flows,
shouts in thunders,
and bounces as rock in roll.

Poetry preserves His truth,
in secret codes, simple words,
only reveals to the worthy.

Poetry sings in my ears,
dances in front my eyes,
kisses my lips,
brings fragrance,
that fills my mind
and imprints my soul.

Poetry does not like as I like
as whenever I use as like wrongly,
and it is unfair He uses
correctly all times He does,
but I make Him to like
as I do like anyway.

Poetry tells stories
to company my journey,
writes jokes
to convert my tragedy
into a comedy,
and builds a rainbow bridge
where my dream
and reality meet.

Poetry blinded Homer
with Helen and war,
afflicted Catullus
with his love and hate,
taught Beowulf
how to fight!

Poetry made Li Bai drunk
in magical words,
brought sorrows to Du Fu,

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poem by Laijon Liu
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Contemporary Freedom

I am who I am
Because of what I am

I ask for freedom from love
I ask for freedom from slavery
I ask for freedom from hunger
I ask for freedom from desire

You know and I know
That not all seeds you sow
Will eventually grow

This is contemporary poem
Seeking for freedom with my pen

I read there was an old man
Who bade farewell to his only son
At the hands of his own gun
Where his actions contemporary?
Was his anger or concern temporary?

This is contemporary poem
Seeking for freedom with my pen

Vivid imagination leads to frustration
It could trigger a chain-reaction
Hence the concept of mass-killing
Is born out of an over-reacted feeling
There is no cure or process of healing
Once death is the meal we are dealing

This is contemporary poem
Seeking for freedom with my pen

We drink with intention to forget
We drink but later on regret
And the people are walking
And the people are talking

Talking about freedom, freedom
Talking about a heavenly kingdom
Talking about their great grandfathers and their moms
Talking about freedom in any shape or form

This is contemporary poem
Seeking for freedom with my pen

And it does not make any sense
Why we always speak first in defense
And it does not make any sense

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poem by Sylvia Chidi
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