Short Love Poems And How To Write Them By Edward Weiss

Looking for a way to write short love poems? Look no further than haiku poetry! Haiku may be the shortest living poetry in the world! In just a few words, an entire sentiment can be expressed. But how to write them you ask? It's easy! Look at this short love poem:

Spring breeze --
her hand accidentally
grazes mine

Here we have a scene where we know what time of year it is. We also know the kind of day it is... breezy. Now, the next two lines describe an event that takes place in 'real time.' Because that's what haiku is all about. It's about present moment occurrences. What could be more immediate and suggestive of love than what is taking place as it's taking place?

To write haiku, you have to learn how to rid yourself of western poetic devices like analogy, simile, and metaphor. Haiku seek to describe events in simple and plain language. You have to get good at writing what haiku poet Ray Rasmussen has aptly called 'first-order sense mind impressions.' This somewhat long way of describing how to write haiku simply means you need to look at what's going on now, not what's happening in the past or what may happen in the future.

For example, the phrase 'her hand accidentally grazes mine' describes an event that is taking place. It doesn't ornament it with flowery language. It simple describes what is happening in the present. Many people think writing haiku is easy. That's because they don't understand how to write haiku. Short love poems the haiku way are a unique way of expressing your feeling for another person. To do it, think first of writing a phrase, then, combine it with a sentence fragment and you've just written your first haiku love poem!

Resource: http://www.isnare.com/?aid=76538&ca=Poetry

Five Easy Steps To Reading A Famous Poem By Gray Ward

Famous poems are everywhere. They appear in places no one could expect – slogans on television, common sayings and phrases, and the titles of just about every artistic film or endeavor at the local video store. Because famous poems are so transcendent, we rarely if ever notice they are there and even less often realize who wrote them. Why not ensure the proper steps are taken when reading a famous poem then to better appreciate the author, the poem, and the time spent reading it.

Step #1 – Selecting a Famous Poem

Easy as pie, right? It might immediately seem so but finding and selecting a specific famous poem or poet to study can be a bit time consuming. Do you really want to read something that does not interest you? You wouldn’t simply buy a book off of a shelf because the woman at the desk told you it was famous. You would want to know what the book is about. The same is true for poetry.

Most of the famous poems in history are available for free online and can be searched for by topic. If you are interested in a war story, Homer’s Iliad has been enthralling readers for millennia while Shakespeare’s sonnets are beautiful love poems. There are numerous resources for finding that ideal poem.

Step #2 – Who Wrote the Famous Poem

Who is the author of your famous poem? The list of potential names is nearly endless. Here are a few of the biggest and brightest stars of the poetry universe to get you started:

Homer
William Shakespeare
Edgar Allen Poe
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Percy Bysshe Shelley
John Keats
William Wordsworth

The list goes on seemingly forever if you let it. The best way to find an incredible, famous poet is to visit the local bookstore or library and ask for recommendations.

Step #3 – Reading the Poem

Read it carefully and slowly. Simply skimming through a famous poem doesn’t do it justice and will only leave you wondering, why is this so famous? You could read a magazine if you simply wanted text to skim over quickly. Poetry is meant to be absorbed and to absorb it you must read it slowly and methodically.

Step #4 – Contextualizing Famous Poems

When was the famous poem written? What was happening in the world? What major events were coloring the life of its author? These are the questions you should ask when reading a famous poem. Every poem has a story behind it and knowing that story can make the entire experience that much more engaging.

Step #5 – Finding More Poetry

Once you find a famous poem that you enjoy, that strikes the perfect cord, you will want to find more of the same. Luckily, many of the poets listed above have enormous bodies of work. Most local bookstores feature large anthologies of work from most of them as well as combined anthologies with famous poems organized by subject or publication date. If you want to find more poetry, there are dozens of resources to do so.

Resource: http://www.isnare.com/?aid=195323&ca=Poetry

Autumn Poems By Joy Cagil

Autumn signals change. It is the season for launching a gentler life and the time for harvesting the fruits sown earlier in the year. The variety of colors that are bound to fade and wither and the cooling weather have always inspired poets.

Here are five poems on autumn by Joy Cagil:

Autumn (A haiku chain)

floating from the sky
scarlet leaves of bitterness
soon the harvest moon

some shrill geese in flight
the brook sluggish like the sap
gold turns sepia

horse chestnuts rolling
over vermilion piles
on the rusty lawn

with final farewells
a lonely heart breaking in
the bare arms of oaks

-----------------

Ballad of the Wind

Among autumn leaves
rustling in thick frenzy,
the wind sees the apple
and rises
with a celestial song.

“Rosy lush lips touching fingertips
on emerald green the chosen palette
come gently sway, to mark the moment,
with luxury of weightlessness.”

Shiny, untouched,
a pigment of impetuous joy,
awakening red, delicious,
floating to the wind’s tune,
welcoming,
the conceit of choice.

“Rosy lush lips touching fingertips
on emerald green the chosen palette
you gently fell, to mark the moment;
did you think the wind would catch you?

The color of dreams fading away,
when grass kneels to cushion the fall
to miss the harvest in a rotten mush,
but upon reflection, it’s worth it all.

More vital than life is
the vanity of a kiss,
if beauty is madness
when the wind blows.”

----------------------

Autumn Rain

The autumn Rain
spread nail polish
over the city
to glitter on
the sidewalks,
asking the flat world
to come alive
and shape up without
stocks and bonds.

But the traffic was hectic
and the people were stacked dominoes.

In frizzled kiosks,
tabloids turned
to paper boats
and went a-sailing
in the gutters,
avoiding haphazard
feet in boots.

Because the traffic was hectic
and the people were stacked dominoes.

Then rain imposed authority
over the umbrellas
with the pitter patter feet of
poetry’s thrust
for a little change in
focus
to create a change in
result.

Still the traffic was hectic
and the people were stacked dominoes.

-----------

On Crabapple Beach

Before Crabapple Beach rolls over
in its sleep to dream
of summer people
who’ll desert it again,
I scoop up the sand inside the arches
of my feet and wander
under the rising moon,
unafraid of the beach bums,
the cool water,
or anything else except
drowning
in the ocean between
me and the world.

Accordingly, I peek
for clues of life inside
well-lighted beach-house windows:
soup steaming on a stove,
white flowers in a coffee mug,
two lovers in an embrace,
slender volumes of verse
on a windowsill,
promising an eternity of simple joys
to souls with private pains.

And I recall a delicate moment
when, on a late autumn night,
on Crabapple Beach,
a little girl penned her first line of poetry,
her first newscast to the world,
with a sigh, as if saying, “I do,”
to a lifelong marriage
of clumsily scribbled words from her spirit,
and she felt the earth move
under her feet,
before overnight-gusts barreled through,
inserting icicles inside the sand.

-----------------

Mute Autumn

They met in a dream
where fireflies flicked in quick farewells
and farmers gathered lush harvests
under a fragile sun.

While rusting leaves wavered between color and reflection,
whispering rumors as they fell,
she warmed her hands by her heart’s fire,
watching him walk up the plank over the pond.
He, a migrating bird; she, a deep-rooted willow,
speechless, deliberating the fusion
of two separate species
in a unique world.

In straw-filled terraces,
never enough nerve to talk,
Delicious, Gala, Rome, Winesap,
Cortland, Jonathan, a windfall crop,
she held up the apples one by one
and crushed them into glistening cider,
trying to charm him with her potion.

In that season of colorful shadows,
so adeptly developed was the illusion’s art,
the emotion so strong, it intimidated the psyche.
Maybe, she froze like the darkened pond,
too full of mystery;
maybe, he didn’t hear her silence.
But then, it was just a dream,
a dream that didn't make allowances
for sleeping.

Resource: http://www.isnare.com/?aid=96745&ca=Poetry

Five Easy Steps To Finding The Right Birthday Poem By Gray Ward

So, it’s a friend or family member’s birthday and let’s face it, those corny punch lines already printed on birthday cards just are not going to cut it this year. A solid birthday poem can really push a card over the top, but only if you can find the right words to express what you’re hoping to say. No one wants their birthday poem to be too overt. Of course, no one wants to give their friend a dirty limerick for their birthday poem either.

Step #1 – Find the Right Tone

Birthday poems range in all sizes and shapes, just like people. So, it stands to reason that there should be a perfectly suited poem available for nearly anyone you know. Step one then is to find the right tone for your birthday tone. Is it for your mother, your wife, your husband, your son or daughter, or maybe just a good friend or co-worker. Now, what kind of a poem would that person appreciate?

Step #2 – Humor Goes a Long Way

Even for a spouse or family member, a funny birthday poem can be a light and distracting way to enjoy the annual reminder of how old they are. Jonathan Swift, the author Gulliver’s Travels and one of the English language’s first satirists wrote “Stella’s Birthday” for a woman with whom he frequently corresponded. With the light touch of humor that he imbued into everything he wrote, he reminded her of exactly how old she was:

Stella this day is thirty-four,
(We shan't dispute a year or more:)
However, Stella, be not troubled,
Although thy size and years are doubled,
Since first I saw thee at sixteen,
The brightest virgin on the green;
So little is thy form declin'd;
Made up so largely in thy mind.

Step #3 – Being Wary

Of course, some instances of humor are best left untouched. If someone is particularly touchy about their age, finding a poem that outlines the exact age and then makes comment on the advanced decrepit state of that age is not the best idea. Be considerate even as you seek a light and humorous way to celebrate that most important of days.

Step #4 – For that Special Someone

Birthday poems for a spouse or for a loved one can be a chance to really shine and show how much you love them. They can also be a chance to earn a few extra points with just the right lyrics. Christina Rosetti, a 19th century poet who spent a great deal of her life in and out of depressive states, wrote many beautiful lyrics, including “A Birthday”, a poem dedicated not just to a single birthday, but to the sensation and joy of a birthday as a metaphor for being in love:

Raise me a daïs of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.

Step #5 – Delivering the Birthday Poem

After choosing the right words, reading them over and over again and knowing that they fit the birthday boy or girl perfectly, it is time to decide how that birthday poem should be given to them. Humorous poems are best delivered in a card. They can be read over and over, shared with friends and hung upon the refrigerator for future laughs. Loving and personal poems are often better delivered in person, adding that intimate touch that can push a birthday poem over the top. However you decide to deliver it though, poetry on a loved one’s birthday is a wonderful gift.

Resource: http://www.isnare.com/?aid=195322&ca=Poetry

What Everyone Should Know About Short Poems By Gray Ward

Not everything needs to be long and cumbersome to be considered an art form and in poetry, this is especially the case. Poetry has long broken new frontiers in displaying brevity and concision with words as an artistic expression. From the Japanese haiku of only 17 syllables to the short form of a simple limerick, there are dozens of different kinds of short poetry.

Different Kinds of Short Poems

There are hundreds of different formats of poetry – from the classic sonnet to the increasingly rare sestina. However, very short poems are much rarer than one would expect. Traditional poets almost all followed a preconceived format, with a set meter and line format. It might be considered boring by today’s standards, but it was tradition and as a result, short poems were less common. However, there are some examples that break the rules including:

Haiku is the most famous of short poetic forms. Developed by the Japanese, this simple and elegant style has managed to find popularity in numerous cultures and countries.

Triolets are eight line short poems with a very unique rhyming scheme.

Ghazal is a Persian form of poetry that can be as short as ten lines, famously used by Rumi.

Cinquain is similar to the haiku in that each of the five lines is designated a certain number of syllables.

And of course free verse poems in which any format is acceptable

There are dozens of different forms of poetry though in which short poems can be written, using the familiar conventions and tweaking them with the artistic license that all poets have. In the case of some of history’s greatest poets, form was not nearly as important as substance.

Short Poems from History’s Greatest Poets

John Keats often wrote short, yet elaborate poems designed to capture all of the energies of a larger, more intensely styled work without putting its reader to sleep with overabundant metaphors. Though he only lived a scant 26 years, his work has had a profound effect on just about every poet since the early 19th century.

Robert Louis Stevenson of Treasure Island fame also penned his share of short poems, including “To Friends at Home” a very simple yet poignant message to his fellows back home describing how much he misses them. Like many writers of his time, his poetry has been overlooked in favor of his fiction. However, the two are almost equal in volume, and his short poetry is especially well written.

To friends at home, the lone, the admired, the lost
The gracious old, the lovely young, to May
The fair, December the beloved,
These from my blue horizon and green isles,
These from this pinnacle of distances I,
The unforgetful, dedicate.

One of the greatest poets to use short forms was Emily Dickinson. Her poems varied in length according to their subjects, be she was not unknown to have used 8 or fewer lines for her most poignant and ultimately best received poems to date. “A Charm Invests a Face” is a great example of this shortened, yet incredibly vivid style:

A charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld.
The lady dare not lift her veil
For fear it be dispelled.

But peers beyond her mesh,
And wishes, and denies,
Lest interview annul a want
That image satisfies.

Resource: http://www.isnare.com/?aid=195982&ca=Poetry

Passions By Jennifer Verdi

It used to be that I could never breathe on my own,

I had to have a hand to hold,

So that I could feel bold.

I sought you out,

With nothing but my tattered heart to offer.

I was afraid to trust,

I had closed myself up.

You look deep into my eyes,

And I felt that I could cry,

Not from pain,

But from feeling life again.

You entered my life like a storm,

Took me by surprise.

I will always be grateful to you,

For you saved me on that miserable day.

You made me fee love,

Where life was lost,

You made me feel that glow,

That certain happiness inside.

The feeling you ignite in me

Holds me captive,

Yet sets me free,

I’m falling hopelessly without a care.

The fever came over me,

Like a rock falling from a bridge,

The rush was intense,

The sensation was bliss.

'NOW'

I hear your name

And remember the pain.

There’s an empty numbness in my heart now,

Do you remember when we loved?

Like ages ago, it’s only been awhile.

How do you fair?

Has life been treating you well?

Do you still smile?

There’s nothing but rain in my head,

I can’t see your face.

I can’t feel your touch…

What’s happening to me?

Do you still think of me?

As I think of you?

Ambivalent feelings of love and loss,

Hate and scorn?

I used to write words for you,

Beautiful words filled with love so true,

Now I write these words for you instead,

Full of nothing, filled with emptiness.

You were my first in everything,

My one true love.

For that, you will always own a place in my heart.

I hope you remember me well and kindly too.

Here’s to life,

And the shitty ways it’s dealt me,

Causing me pain,

While still remembering your name.

It comes in a fog now,

So it’s not so bad.

I just can’t dwell,

Or I go all to hell.

When you die,

Whisper my name,

And perhaps we can share in Paradise,

As friends, as whatever, the way we were supposed to.

Resource: http://www.isnare.com/?aid=126245&ca=Poetry

Passions By Jennifer Verdi

It used to be that I could never breathe on my own,

I had to have a hand to hold,

So that I could feel bold.

I sought you out,

With nothing but my tattered heart to offer.

I was afraid to trust,

I had closed myself up.

You look deep into my eyes,

And I felt that I could cry,

Not from pain,

But from feeling life again.

You entered my life like a storm,

Took me by surprise.

I will always be grateful to you,

For you saved me on that miserable day.

You made me fee love,

Where life was lost,

You made me feel that glow,

That certain happiness inside.

The feeling you ignite in me

Holds me captive,

Yet sets me free,

I’m falling hopelessly without a care.

The fever came over me,

Like a rock falling from a bridge,

The rush was intense,

The sensation was bliss.

'NOW'

I hear your name

And remember the pain.

There’s an empty numbness in my heart now,

Do you remember when we loved?

Like ages ago, it’s only been awhile.

How do you fair?

Has life been treating you well?

Do you still smile?

There’s nothing but rain in my head,

I can’t see your face.

I can’t feel your touch…

What’s happening to me?

Do you still think of me?

As I think of you?

Ambivalent feelings of love and loss,

Hate and scorn?

I used to write words for you,

Beautiful words filled with love so true,

Now I write these words for you instead,

Full of nothing, filled with emptiness.

You were my first in everything,

My one true love.

For that, you will always own a place in my heart.

I hope you remember me well and kindly too.

Here’s to life,

And the shitty ways it’s dealt me,

Causing me pain,

While still remembering your name.

It comes in a fog now,

So it’s not so bad.

I just can’t dwell,

Or I go all to hell.

When you die,

Whisper my name,

And perhaps we can share in Paradise,

As friends, as whatever, the way we were supposed to.

Resource: http://www.isnare.com/?aid=126245&ca=Poetry

Passions By Jennifer Verdi

It used to be that I could never breathe on my own,

I had to have a hand to hold,

So that I could feel bold.

I sought you out,

With nothing but my tattered heart to offer.

I was afraid to trust,

I had closed myself up.

You look deep into my eyes,

And I felt that I could cry,

Not from pain,

But from feeling life again.

You entered my life like a storm,

Took me by surprise.

I will always be grateful to you,

For you saved me on that miserable day.

You made me fee love,

Where life was lost,

You made me feel that glow,

That certain happiness inside.

The feeling you ignite in me

Holds me captive,

Yet sets me free,

I’m falling hopelessly without a care.

The fever came over me,

Like a rock falling from a bridge,

The rush was intense,

The sensation was bliss.

'NOW'

I hear your name

And remember the pain.

There’s an empty numbness in my heart now,

Do you remember when we loved?

Like ages ago, it’s only been awhile.

How do you fair?

Has life been treating you well?

Do you still smile?

There’s nothing but rain in my head,

I can’t see your face.

I can’t feel your touch…

What’s happening to me?

Do you still think of me?

As I think of you?

Ambivalent feelings of love and loss,

Hate and scorn?

I used to write words for you,

Beautiful words filled with love so true,

Now I write these words for you instead,

Full of nothing, filled with emptiness.

You were my first in everything,

My one true love.

For that, you will always own a place in my heart.

I hope you remember me well and kindly too.

Here’s to life,

And the shitty ways it’s dealt me,

Causing me pain,

While still remembering your name.

It comes in a fog now,

So it’s not so bad.

I just can’t dwell,

Or I go all to hell.

When you die,

Whisper my name,

And perhaps we can share in Paradise,

As friends, as whatever, the way we were supposed to.

Resource: http://www.isnare.com/?aid=126245&ca=Poetry

Haiku Examples And The 5-7-5 Syllable Rule By Ed Weiss

Most people understand what haiku is. And most will tell you that a true haiku poem must have a certain pattern of syllables and lines. For example, the first line will get 5 syllables, the second 7, and the third 5 again.

This is all well and good but it's not necessary at all! In fact, most modern haiku in the western world no longer adhere to this structure. I for one think that's a good thing! Let's look at some haiku examples to see why.

Haiku Example #1:

steady spring rain --
a tree takes shape
at dawn

The above haiku poem is from one of my favorite poets, Bruce Ross. Notice that the 5-7-5 rule does not apply here. Also notice that the poem is still a haiku. Why? Because it uses something called phrase and fragment theory. The first line is a fragment and creates the overall ambiance of the poem. The next two lines contain a specific phrase about something occurring in a present moment. Read as a whole this tiny poem accomplishes the haiku sensibility, which is basically an observation or snapshot look at what is happening in the present. Plus, it's subject is nature - another common haiku attribute. Let's look at another example.

Haiku Example #2

a swallow
pond bathes...
summer woods

This haiku by the author completely abandons the 5-7-5 rule and still works as a haiku poem. This is because it uses fragment and phrase theory to create a micro-macro view. Also, we have the phrase first this time followed by the fragment. Notice the image that is created by the juxtaposition between the phrase and the fragment. This is what creates the poetics of haiku!

To write haiku in the modern style, you don't have to worry about fitting your poem in old forms. This frees you up to creating something you may not have thought of if you had to follow the 5-7-5 rule.

Resource: http://www.isnare.com/?aid=80129&ca=Poetry

Haiku Poetry And The Concept Of Wabi/sabi By Edward Weiss

It may sound like a tasty sushi dish, but the concept of wabi/sabi is a Japanese idea that literally means 'sweet sadness.' It's a feeling one may have when winter is approaching and you notice the change in nature's cycles. It's a feeling of impermanence that surrounds all living things on this planet. Nothing lasts and this idea finds its expression well in haiku poetry. For instance, look at this haiku poem by Bruce Ross;

winter sun...
the pigeons foot crackles
a dry leaf

The first line suggests the time of year and the general ambiance of the day. It is wintertime and as we all know, the sun's position and relative affect on the earth is quite different during this season. Lines two and three complete the poem and focus, quite remarkably I might add, on the activity of a pigeon. Here, the pigeon happens to walk on a dry leaf and the leaf crackles because of it.

Now, lines 2 and 3 really have no poetic effect by themselves. But, when combined with the sentence fragment 'winter sun,' we get what many have called an absolute metaphor.. a snapshot if you will of a moment in time. And it is precisely this moment in time that creates the wabi/sabi affect!

Nothing lasts. Not the winter, not the sun's position, and surely, not an incident so small as the crackling of a dry leaf. Yet these seemingly small events are what life is about. To catch them is the haiku poet's job and it is done superbly in this poem. When we read this haiku as a whole, we come away with that sweet sadness that most of us have felt at one time or another. We realize that this life is only temporary and that each 'small' act is a miracle in itself.

Resource: http://www.isnare.com/?aid=76535&ca=Poetry

Thorn By Anna Williams

Beneath the shadow of the sky
I felt the wind pulse, watched it fly.
In the autumn, in the storm,
The wind was true, the wind was warm.
Warmer than what I'd become
For I was empty, cold, and numb.

Like a blossom in the frost
That dies in heartache and is lost
Despairing it will never be
Young again; will never see
The moonlit dewdrop's quiet birth
And fades to cold, black, callous earth...
I hungered no more for the stars.
I raised myself against the bars,
And shut away each desperate scheme.
A dream no longer was a dream.
Standing by the barren isle,
There was a lie behind my smile.
The mountain storm could touch me not
And not the sea. For I had sought,
And I had failed. And I had hated
Every hope my heart created.

By the strength my eyes beguiled,
I grew old when still a child.
And so I sank, forgot, and sighed
But for whispers, deep inside;
But for wishes to return.
And yet the dread to fail, to burn,
Overpowered dying love.
With one last frantic glance above,
I longed that I might live once more,
To suffer truth, as long before.

Desperate prayer in the sand...
I reached out my quivering hand,
And felt the blue light of the sky
The moon's cold breath fell to my eye,
And as the summer winds wash tears,
A memory washed away my fears.

Beating heart and burning breath,
Love reawakened from the death,
Shivering flesh against the night
Awakened to a dying light.

A quiet child sleeps peacefully,
Somewhere deep inside of me,
Who knew her love and knew her name;
Spoke no hatred, felt no shame;
Who knew a true, unbroken mirror,
Bore no secret, hid no tear.
She laughed upon a starlit beam,
Without fear and without scheme,
Seldom hid herself from pain,
And never shuttered in the rain.
Subtle age tears at the young.
Songs are withered and resung.

After a day or a million years
Of soft oblivion and fears,
Of quiet panic, bursting sin,
Silent fight raged deep within,
Hearts are crushed and are reborn
From the blood upon the thorn.

Resource: http://www.isnare.com/?aid=119187&ca=Poetry