An Introduction to POETRY

 The word POEM comes from the Greek word  POIEMA , meaning "a thing made."


The word POET comes from the Greek word POIETES, meaning "maker or author.

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POETRY is a type of literature that expresses ideas, feelings, or tells a story in a specific form (usually using lines and stanzas).

POETRY appears among the earliest records of most literate cultures, with poetic fragments found on early monoliths, rune stones and stelae.


The oldest surviving POEM is the "Epic of Gilgamesh," from the 3rd millennium BC in Sumer (in Mesopotamia, now Iraq), which was written in cuneiform script on clay tablets, and later papyrus.

WEDNESDAY POETRY PROMPT #349

From Robert Lee Brewer's "Poetic Asides" blog.

Write a "running it's course" poem.


Baby Love


That was baby love we just made
We would say at the same time after
Coitus. You know that right?
Baby be here nine moths from now.
Not a day before or after.
If it's a girl let's name her Morgan.
But that was a boy shot he said
You know that right? Then it's done
We will name him after his dad.

WEDNESDAY POETRY PROMPT #348

From Robert Lee Brewer's "Poetic Asides" Blog


Write a "when everything stops" poem.


Don't Stop!

Sometimes I would like to just
Stop the world and get off this
Merry-go-round and round this
Rick-e-ty ride to nowhere.
But it's not my call.
I clearly understand, the cycle is
Perpetual; the wheels never stop
Turning we just get thrown off.

NAPOWRIMO 2016 DAY 30

Write a poem translated from a language you don't know.

A poem by Hanshan translated from Chinese


COLD CHILL


The atmosphere up high
Is where the snow drifts
Take away your breath
Freezing on contact with
Thin air.
Swirling birds of prey
Are the only thing that
Dare to stand on cold mountain.

NAPOWRIMO 2016 DAY 29

Write a poem based on things you remember.


PAPA'S FARM


I remember Papa on the farm feeding grain to baby chicks
In their wire-mesh coops. Churning cow's milk into butter
From a giant silver bucket . Plucking huge blackberries off
A prickly vine in a ditch by the road side. Butchering pigs in the pen
And hanging the sausage in the smokehouse.

I remember Papa sitting on the back porch on a cool summer evening
After supper drinking Jim Beam bourbon from a paper cup and smoking
A hand made Cuban cigar.

I remember Papa as a hardworking man on the  farm.

NAPOWRIMO 2016 DAY 28

Write a poem that tells a story--the story should be told backwards.



FALL SCENE AT JOHN BISHOP PARK


Blowing in the wind
The smell of fall
Cutting the grass with
A lawn mower
Trimming tree branches
With an electric saw
On the highway
A car engine revving
A plane in the sky overhead
I sit and watch and listen

NAPOWRIMO 2016 DAY 27

Write a poem with very long lines.


ALL YOUR CARDS ON THE TABLE


If you know what I think I know you'll get yours now. Don't wait for the big meeting on high.
There might not be no pie in the sky bye and bye. You got to go
With your gut feeling, go for what you know. Don't wait until the day you
Die. There might not be no pie in the sky bye and bye. Go for what
You really know not what I think I know. Life is too short to presume.