Category Archives: Poetry

When Art is Poetry


Art is poetry when the colors display fiery emotions.

Art is poetry when the artist’s imagination soars to the heavens,

Art is poetry when the images inspire and touch the soul.

The Poet’s Craft — Vishal Dutia


We grind the grit and rhyme,To weave a tale that’s prime,With words that dance and sing,And make our spirits take wing. We search for just the right phrase,To set our readers’ hearts ablaze,To paint a picture in their minds,And leave them with a sense that…

The Poet’s Craft — Vishal Dutia

I had to share this because it was so inspiring.

A Poem by Roberto Sosa


The Poor

BY ROBERTO SOSA

TRANSLATED FROM THE SPANISH BY SPENCER REECE

The poor are many

and so—

impossible to forget.

No doubt,

as day breaks,

they see the buildings

where they wish

they could live with their children.

They

can steady the coffin

of a constellation on their shoulders.

They can wreck

the air like furious birds,

blocking out the sun.

But not knowing these gifts,

they enter and exit through mirrors of blood,

walking and dying slowly.

And so,

one cannot forget them.

from Poetry Foundation

My husband and I met Roberto Sosa when he was invited to be a resident Poet at Montclair State University several years ago. We loved hearing his stories and the way he presented his ideas about humanity and the injustices that happen in life.

When Someone Needs You


When someone needs you

you want to know it’s true

you hope that when they are no longer with you

somehow they still do.

But the truth is that

when someone needs you

you probably need them a lot more.

– Melba Christie

Song is poetry most of the time. The following song by Anne Murray is sheer poetry. Enjoy.

She sights a bird — she chuckles


She sights a bird – she chuckles –

she flattens – then she crawls –

she runs without the look of feet –

Her eyes increase to Balls –

Her jaws stir – twitching – hungry –

Her teeth can hardy stand –

She leaps, but Robin leaped the first –

Ah, pussy, of the sand,

the hopes of juicy ripening –

You almost bathed your tongue –

When bliss disclosed a hundred toes –

And fled with every one. –

—Emily Dickinson

Read a Poem Aloud


Many folks read poetry silently

mindful that they may not

fully understand

the meaning,

the purpose,

the theme,

and the fluidity of a poem.

Why do some poems deserve to be

anthologized,

memorialized,

memorized and even metamorphized

into sweet song lyrics.

I secretly hope mine are someday.

Poems are best when read aloud

I learned that late in life.

They resonate and

infuse your blood stream

with love and passion

as a prayer does.

You become mindful of every breath,

every stress, every meter,

as the words beat in your heart.

I want to hear

the rhymes

but sometimes

I rather repeat just one line

that get lost in the endlessness of time.

Read poetry aloud I say.

https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/UH5hmdz31yb

Happy National Poetry Month


Join the celebration! Read a poem a day! Send a poem to someone you love. Join Poemattic’s Challenge. Every day I will list the name of a few poets. All you need to do is copy a quote from a poem by one of the poets listed that day. Make sure you give us the poet’s name. Tell us why you chose the poet and why you picked the specific stanza or line. Please publish it in the comments section. Happy reading! Happy writing! Remember “Poetry is Life! Life is poetry!”

Art as Healer


When art saves your soul,

When art helps you to breathe,

then all you do is art.

The love art brings to life

is too great and never

lets you down.

The love of art

helps one heal

from loss and grief.

The love of art

is a permanent emotion.

it stays and does not abandon you.

it fills part of the void that

is in your broken heart.

What Dreams Are Made Of


My dreams are always surreal

Depicting scenes in someone else’s dream

that somehow I intercept

or is it that someone somehow invades mine.

This time Shakespeare came to show me

where he wrote Romeo and Juliet.

No doubt inspired

by the sweet aroma of a lavender field.

Should it have been a tragedy at the end?

Then so unexpectedly

came a whisper from the Bard,

“Alas that love, whose view is muffled still

Should without eyessee pathways to his will.”

I created this image on an AI App. DALl-E 2

Please leave you comments.

A New Found Poem


The space between moments

are only discovered by

those mindful of their surroundings.

Magical surprises spring up

to boggle and fascinate the mind

and to continue to ask questions

yet unanswered.

The memories of an old love

find their way into my soul;

sending regards to one special moment.

So unique it cannot be revealed.

The space between moments,

are filled with sounds,

of streaming rivers,

and soft winds

whispering the secrets

of eternity.

Just listen!

Words and titles borrowed from the posts of:

John Coyote

Catherine ArcolioLeaf And Twig

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