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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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What is poetry?


Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didn’t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


There are poets whose work, without exaggeration, belongs to the treasures of human thought and rightly is a world heritage. In our electronic library you will find a wide variety of poetry.
Opening a new collection of poems, the reader thus discovers a new world, a new thought, a new form. Rereading the classics, a person receives a magnificent aesthetic pleasure, which doesn’t disappear with the slamming of the book, but accompanies him for a very long time like a Muse. And it isn’t at all necessary to be a poet in order for the Muse to visit you. It is enough to pick up a volume, inside of which is Poetry. Be with us on our website.

Read books online » Poetry » utter chaos strewn with logic by elizabeth love (good romance books to read TXT) 📖

Book online «utter chaos strewn with logic by elizabeth love (good romance books to read TXT) 📖». Author elizabeth love



Writer’s Release
I have strayed from the pen for far too long.
This lark had forgotten its own simple song.
I stumbled back into that once familiar trance,
A bumbling clown in the words delicate dance.

My fingers creaked, my tendons groaned.
My pencil, it trembled, with verses unknown.
The words have brought me back to life.
The veil was lifted, a subtle knife.

Before I had been ever so encumbered,
Now my mind races with stories unnumbered.
I breathe again, my mind is clear.
Again I’ve found that which I hold dear.

An overdue spring after a tortuous frost,
The words on my tongues shall not be lost.
I’ve regained my purpose, the word flow won’t cease.
My words are my freedom; the writer’s release.


Die with the Flow

Can’t get a grip on reality,
This path wasn’t meant for me.
Can’t open this door,
‘Don’t know what’s in store.

I’m lost and I’m afraid,
I’ve found I’m not brave.
I’m shunned then I’m welcomed.
I’ve drowned then I’m saved.

They say you can just scrape by,
But in what kind of lives?
The many will thrive yet,
The one can’t survive.

No man is an island.
Yet, none should be drones.
You can wait at the edge or,
Just die with the flow.

Conformists are background,
The rebels are hushed.
Each man chooses his path;
For death or for hell!


The Lover’s Prayer

Let me be united with my love, let us become one, let us reach the highest level of companionship. Let us be (if not each other’s first,) then last. Let us succeed and fail together. Let our love be constant and pure. Let us be each other’s only. Let us be joined by the cosmos and sanctioned by the stars.


The Three Faces of the Sun

The sun is gentle, the sun is kind.
The sun’s warm laughter calms your mind.

The sun is fiery, the sun is mad.
Oh! Where’s the sun that you once had?

The sun is crying; the sun is weak.
Repent your actions! You must be meek.


The Masked Ball

Laughing, screaming,
Twirling, teaming;
A sea of bodies;
A mass of tongues;
Each mask embodies,
A song unsung.
Deceit and lies;
So many disguised!
Adventure and mystery
Are failures throughout history.
We are dazzled by the sequins
And awed by the frills.
The smooth silk hurls meek ones
Into chaotic thrills.
The dance is un-orderly.
The volume; too loud.
The truth in each word will be lost; they’re too proud.
The mask hides appearance,
Yet eyes shine right through.
If you assume clearance,
The fault’s all on you!
So enjoy the masked ball but beware of the faces.
There are vermin beneath those intricate laces.


At War With Oneself

Two soldiers are fighting, in a single boy's head.
They tell me keep writing! Until one is dead. Two soldiers are warring, one young and one old,
an interesting matchup, both strong and both bold.
the one is a wise man, he's kind and polite, the other is modern, uncaring yet "cool"
the wise man thinks nothing, of his daily plight,
the other complains, and calls the wise man, a fool.
It’s a shame these two warring, there's no cause to fight,
it's a waste these to batting, for none shall be ruled.
you can see each small victory, see each man beget,
his foe for the host is seen caught in the net
a trouble within, there is no cause to fret,
now a messenger comes to my side;
I’m told that the battle has ended and yet,
I’ve yet to know which man, has conquered the bet

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Publication Date: 05-08-2010

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