| |
| |
|
Poetry Information |
|
|
|
The Crusader: A Search for the Virtue Inside (an excerpt of an Epic Poem)
On through the darkness she searches the bones As dawn ascends the darkened sky She reaches forth and takes his hand, She knew she must act rapidly, Faint, a cry came from behind For days they lay near Death's cold door; Conscious now, gaining strength David cries in anguish deep, Deathly silent David falls (this is an excerpt only) Bob Curtis has been writing articles, short fiction and poetry for over 30 years. He is the managing director of http://www.people4people.blogspot.com, and is the president of Nexus Publishing, http://www.nexus4u.blogspot.com For information on obtaining a complete manuscript of "The Crusader", write to nexushelps@gmail.com.
MORE RESOURCES:
Poetry - Google News |
|
|
|
RELATED ARTICLES
Tale of the Brick Maker, of San Jeronimo, Peru [In English and Spanish] Tale of the Brick Maker, Of San Jerónimo, Peru [A Cup of Sorrow]-1In the Andean mountains, within theMantaro Valley region of Peru, Isolated, secluded, tranquil, is the littlevillage of San Jerónimo. Near the village, here lay the fertile valleywith bent-grass, and huge Mountains stretching northbound,And heading towards the ocean's coast. Stones As I picked up some of the polished gemstones in the rock store I began to think about what the stones looked like before they were polished. The store had several rocks on display showing the before and after and I realized that unless you knew what you were looking for, you could easily pass by a valuable gemstone. My Final Defeat - Fixed Competition She probably can't remember and I know I can never forget.. Barriers There are many times I set up barriers and walls, invisible unless you come too close, And then you hit them.You wonder what happened. Africa AFRICA (to africans in diaspora)africa here i come, africa africa of the black soul the soul of an ancient culture the culture of your timid tribes.its your voice i hear africa your voice of the talking drums your beaded drums and the royal trumpeter the metal gong of your town crieri have come to see your music dance i have heard of your ageless minstrels have i not heard of your swinging hips! i have heard enough and have come to watch wouldn't you dance for me africaafrica here i come africa would you not show me to your tribes the timid tribes of your sweetened tongues the varied tongues of your virtuous menafrica, black soul africa tell me about your gods your gods of the sky and of the mother earth your gods of the hills and of the rivers aboundshow me to your kings africa your kings of the ancient dynasty the ancient dynasty of rusted spear and shield africa, here i come africaHEAVENLY GUESTheavenly guest heralding thunderously in its own awake pelting on men as well, the gods gathering itself drop by drop. Because of You You are to me my lifeline my security. That scares me. Poetry "Reborn" Emerges In Thriller Mystery Novel Since Mohamed Ali-then Cassius Clay-announced that he had written "The world's shortest poem," I have known that I would be a poet. "ME? WHEE!" His triumphant proclamation evoking shivers within my troubled teenaged identity, for I reasoned in rhyme. Elizabeth Barrett Browning: A Discussion of How Do I Love Thee? "How Do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning was written in 1845 while she was being courted by the English poet, Robert Browning. The poem is also titled Sonnet XLIII from Sonnets From the Portuguese. Mechanical Poetry; Part Two What do you do when you want to write poetry? I hope your answer is "I start writing." Even writing a bad poem is better than waiting for the "right words. Two Poems with Triggers [and a commentary] So Many Einstein'sThe morning mist, insists there is a God. The earth remains faithful to its orbit. Wondering How I wonder what he's doing as I sit alone at night. How I wonder who he's seeing How I wonder if I'm right. The Butcher of Lima and Footprints to Mantaro Valley (Two Poems) Footprints to Mantaro Valley (Peru; in English and Spanish)In what retreat art hid?-Where falling mountains groan In shadow and amongThe rapids of the Rio? Is not your name Mantaro Valley?Beyond the footprints of the Andes--?I can hear your voice in echoesI can hear thy voice, divinely low. I do but know thy by a glanceAs the clouds above me know? . Biography of Charlotte Bronte Charlotte Bronte (1816 -1855) Novelist and Poet.Charlotte was the daughter of the Rev. In Poetry: Meaning of Words [And ...Rocket-belt] In Poetry: Meaning of WordsWhen I write poetry, I check out the meaning of words for too often they sound the same, but once written, and if spelled wrong, in consequence, give a complete different meaning of what I had intended; this I call a moment of damage control. If my rhyme is flat, and my cadence is off, so what, I can survive, as long as the meaning of my words are not; and are as I meant them to be. The Cat Truth is stranger than fiction according to many people who have seen what happens around me and to them, on many occasions. Sometimes I have had others affect me in the same way. Poetry in Turbulence To many non-specialists of literature, poetry is deeply unsatisfying. There are several reasons for this, but two in particular come to mind. Robert Burns Love Poem: A Red, Red Rose Robert Burns, a poor man, an educated man, and a ladies' man, is representative of Scotland, much like whisky, haggis, bagpipes, and kilts. He lived a life shortened by rheumatic heart disease, 1759-1796, but his life journey through poverty, informal education, disappointed love, nationalism, and literary and financial success can be identified by all Scots and common men the world over. Man Unbowed [A poem] Man UnbowedUnbowed by sin, the world of man, stands Upon his feet he gapes into the sky, The indifference of centuries within his eyes, And in his heart the curse of the old world. Who made him dead to love and God? A thing that breathes only for wants and needs, With a lack of emotion, a brother to the fox? Who tightened and pushed up his jagged brow? (To make him look so grand, so proud-so tall. Antidotes for an Alibi Amy King's first full-length collection, Antidotes for an Alibi, insists that we examine the deceptive clarity of our actions and the goals that motivate us. How does one actually get from "A" to "B"-and is there ever really a "B"? What color is the white space between "A" and "B"? Upon closer inspection, surface realities reveal themselves to be porous and fragile, layered with textures and grains that lead the eye on varying pathways. Black Blood, in Jeremiahs Vines - A Poem and an Article Black Blood, in Jeremiah's Vines [A Dream Poem]And I heard the crackling of wood, and I noticed the Lord God had made men of wood, and fire came from his mouth.Then the wind poured its grief upon us-over our sins; and I heard the words for the seventh time, "Go to the mountains!"Foolish people of this land pray and understand-for He cometh! Thereof, toss yourself to thy knees, for the roar of rebellious men will bleed: black blood, through the vines of Jeremiah.
|
| home | site map | Art of the Ocean |
| © 2006 |
