The Artful Poet
poets never write, for they are artists. strokes from paintbrush made of feathers cast we. canvases begin to fill, the paint words. at completion, poets covet beauty. art they make forever makes them great lords.
The Dictators We Call Poets
Tyrants of paper, We crack the whip that is our quill upon words' backs. We command them to become Beautiful, to show our pride.
A Poet's Purpose - short poem
A poet must translate each moment, from the purest of thoughts and feelings, into tangible words. vocabulary is a poet's expression. emotion is the poet's palette. with these a poet creates the words you read. written by: fane star
Life in The Mines
Down in the mines, Where deepgold shines, That's where we live, And take what they give. Digging deep, And never stop, It's ours to keep Whatever they drop! The rocks, the stones, Reward us well, They give us loans Which we then sell!...
Damned Poet
You went thru hell to get above, guided by the light of a poet in nature, to reunite with beatrice, your love, and to face the might of our creator.
Poet's Greeting
I wrote this while on the chat for a girl who happened to also be a poet. just as i was about to whisper her this poem, she left, so i decided to save it here to show her later.
A poets peace.
.^ a voice from the dark called out, 'the poets must give us imagination of peace, to oust the intense, familiar imagination of disaster. peace, not only the absence of war.'
The Poet Monk
An alkussian poet monk, specifically, because poet monks kept their skills sharp by narrating their every experience as though reciting an epic poem.
A Good Chase
Why not be a poet while working some shit retail job?" "i'll have you know i'm a bank teller, not some girl working hot topic," she sighed. "a real poet wouldn't need another job anyway." "a poet is a person that writes poems.
November
The lonely poet was mesmerized. here he witnessed how autumn escaped from the ominous tide of wintertime. soon the land would rest beneath a blanket of white. but not yet.
Wonderland
She was no poet. _'there are just so many of you and there's only one of me.
If Only You Knew The Rain
#3 of poetry salutations greetings welcome a poet,i am a spinner of tales one of a time long since passed a young gentleman stoic and cold stern and unmoving an intellectual a poet,like i a pianist without a family a