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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 » Poetry 2015 by Odessa McNiel (read book .txt) 📖

Book online «Poetry 2015 by Odessa McNiel (read book .txt) 📖». Author Odessa McNiel



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 Splashing rivulets

A refreshing sensation

Again and again

 

Too Young to be This Old

 We're too young to be this old, 

And too old to be this young.

We might even be too ignorant to be this wise,

Or too wise to be this ignorant.

We've got too many scars on our skin to have fought so few wars,

But in some ways, we may have fought too many to have just a few.

We've wasted so many breaths on figuring out our lives,

Yet, we've taken so few just to live it.

You're mearly making a life,

Not living it.

Or, maybe, you've been living without a life,

Because you're too scared to make it.

 

My Feelings Lately

 Everywhere.

That is where my feelings lie.

I ask myself why.

But all I get is a mixed emotion,

Thickening my thoughts with such commotion.

One is new and clouding

Every waking thought.

The other, old with my love fleeing.

Am I loving without?

Am I cheating?

Is this an experiment?

Do I keep going?

Or do I give up?

Drafts

 An ever growing

List of things I want

To express but can't.

 

A Workin' Man's Hands

 That nine to five

Everyday drive

Same stuff different day

Only way to earn that pay

Calluses grow thick 

Blisters burning like a wick

 

All this labor and more each day

Hardly worth that little pay

Not enough to bring back home

Bread stale as stone

Little feet rattling on the floor

Their pitter patter not soft anymore

 

One already in the ground

Two already without sound

Maybe they'll go quick

It won't make the others sick

Assumption

Consumption

No other option

 

That nine to five

Everyday drive

It ain't worth a five dollar

Death is in the holler

Lurking on the streets

Hiding beneath the sheets

Imprint

Publication Date: 02-04-2015

All Rights Reserved

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