First Collection Of Rhyming Poems About Poetry (4 Poems)

This category is for poems about poetry. By that i mean poems talking about how beautiful and fun writing poetry is, how necessary poetry is or how happy a poet is. Just any poem that has to do with the feeling of writing.





FIRST POEM

A NIGHT OF POETIC FUTILITY.

Words without a home;

faraway they roam.

I wish they are near;

pains I can no longer bear.

I search for these words

like a musician looks for chords.

Futility with a broad smile;

a quest taking a while.

Impaired inspiration;

I see no solution.

Brain boldly blank;

vanity playing pranks.

Willingly I want to write;

enormous efforts with a blight.

I'm starved of a spark;

my mind is getting dark.

My pen feels lame

regardless of her fame.

A night of poetic futility...

no stain on my street credibility.

SUBMITTED BY MC SHAPIRO

SECOND POEM

A  FEELING WITH WINGS.
Insistent inspirations;
from all indications.
Ideas that can't escape;
my pen is ready to scrape.
A flood in my brain;
I feel no iota of pain.
Expressions in a clash;
the beauty of a trash.
Poetry is pure pleasure;
intoxication without measure.
I'm clearly high on words;
I'm feeling like a lord.
The persistence of creativity;
a continuance romancing eternity.
A feeling with wings...
I can her my soul sing.
Willingly, I'll write
till the night goes white.
Inspirations without a clog...
you can't pull out the plug.
WRITTEN BY MC SHAPIRO

THIRD POEM

WORD ON EVERY PAGE.

I'm here to sell a name

that'll bring this nation fame.

This is far from a game,

I'll never bring my country shame.

I'm here to trade a personality.

I'll sew up the polity with sanctity.

Forever proud of my nationality.

I'm the needed wind of sanity.

I'm the poetic assassin.

I'm as creative as sin.

With Nigeria I'll always win...

success on a serial spin.

A golden fish; nowhere to hide.

The parade of perfect pride.

A name known far and wide.

In greatness, I'll forever confide.

A monster of an image.

I'm the word on every page.

Fame armed with a rude rage...

popularity beyond every age.

WRITTEN BY MC SHAPIRO

FOURTH POEM

SACRED SIN.

A seemingly sacred sin

by the poetic assassin.

A perfect murder...

the police need not bother.

I will plead guilty;

a guilt not filthy.

An apparent assassination;

crime armed with satisfaction.

The beauty of a killing;

my hands are still willing.

A lynching without blood;

poetic ink in floods.

Dead pens in piles;

their corpses will make you smile.

My jotter is the slaughter slab;

the consistency of poetic jabs.

An articulate assassin;

the supreme creativity of sin.

A killing that brings hope;

with my pens, you'll cope.

WRITTEN BY MC SHAPIRO