Best İnspiration Poems

Elan that lifts me above the clouds
into pure space, timeless, yea eternal
Breath transmuted into words
Transmuted back to breath
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Poetic Masterpiece: A Childbirth Of Profundity.
Like delivery of Divine Revelations 
which favours calmness of wilderness;  
It's brought forth in Creative-Glory-Of-Solitude:
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Of all of God's creation
I love you foremost
Tower of inspiration
And kindness utmost
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I saw the Death, and she was seating
By quiet entrance at my own home,
I saw the doors were opened in my tomb,
And there, and there my hope was a-flitting
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He had a poet's heart
When he melted with pain at the sight of a wounded bird
Like an ice cube melting in summer's heat
The helpless eyes of grieving bird's mate
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Forgive you
It is not hard to forgive you
Transparent heart, i know who are you
It is okay to forgive you
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In all worthwhile endeavors,
No matter size or scope.
It shall either have a life,
Or die, a thing called hope.
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I am the lover's eyes, and the spirit's
Wine, and the heart's nourishment.
I am a rose. My heart opens at dawn and
The virgin kisses me and places me
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Intoxicated by the inspiration
Of his trade—
With mental powers at work,
A true poet rarely sleeps.
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I like to hear of wealth and gold,
And El Doradoes in their glory;
I like for silks and satins bold
To sweep and rustle through a story.
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We’ve been in the rain so long
That our eyes are sore and red;
When joy is missing,
We gaze down too long at our feet
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I remember the marvellous moment
you appeared before me,
like a transient vision,
like pure beauty’s spirit.
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Such princely and linguistic feats
As penned by Shelley, Byron, Keats
Though rich and eloquently grand
Are oft` too deep to understand
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Admired and enjoyed,
As a guide I deployed,
Messages I found,
In her poems so profound,
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I was a Poet!
But I did not know it,
Neither did my Mother,
Nor my Sister nor my Brother.
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A lilac for the anonymity,
Of Mrs. Hinkle's simple poetry.
It shines within the margins of its space,
A single note of captivating grace.
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Loved to write as far back as memory goes
Without any thought for a verse to compose

Poetic expressions of innate creativity
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He is a link between this and the coming world.
He is
A pure spring from which all thirsty souls may drink.
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My pen is poised, what shall I write,
The mind is 'dark', it needs some light,
Some 'inspiration' would be enough
To trigger the fingers and do a rough
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It shakes my faith towards philosophy of life
Many times I thought she could have been better wife
Seconds later it turned out to be best suited for inspiration
Emergence of perfect shadow in mind for imagination
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ALLAH-RAM-JESUS
I live by your names.
Show me the true path
Give me that rectitude
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Hello Mankind!

My name is Love.
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One hour devoted to the pursuit of Beauty
And Love is worth a full century of glory
Given by the frightened weak to the strong.
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. Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes
To pace the ground, if path be there or none,
While a fair region round the traveller lies
Which he forbears again to look upon;
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All birds are distinct and have special character
We may not find them usually in every sector
They have their own way to serve the mankind
Each one holds prominence and has specialists of its kind
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Can't compose a rhyme?
Don't have the time?
My brain's gone dead?
What's that you said?
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The beautiful Lotus,
Standing on muddy waters,
Untainted - uncluttered -unhampered,
So pure- but arduous to attain!
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Barada, oh father of all rivers
Oh, horse that races the days
Be, in our sad history, a prophet
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(not the season)

A spring
A perennial source of inspiration
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Neither the motivation should be confined to word nor to book. Many things might have been written in book but so long as it is not put into practice or use, it can’t deliver the result. You might have experienced number of times that actual result can be had only after putting self before everything. The sales men may increase the sales by many folds but that may just not be the reality. It is performed under forced situation. It is doesn’t speak of any motivation, but only a consideration,


Think of commandant in battle field, surrounded by powerful enemy, and he is leading battery of disgruntled and demoralized personnel under his command? His final words or vision only may save them from disastrous situation or near annihilation. His powerful motivation or enthusiasm only may take them to a safety without loss of lives.
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Of all human manifestations
May I say, you are the greatest
As you give milk, food and protection
What to say of love, peace and rest!
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''to run my fingers
along the contours
of your body just
to ignite the love....''MAN
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Although the human mind has been divided into conscious, subconscious and unconscious today, yet the man had already been existing and his mind, too. Freud was of the view that he did not exactly invent the idea of unconscious mind because poets and philosophers were already familiar with it. He said that he had only presented its theory in psychological terms. According to Freud, the poetry comes into existence on account of regression and sublimation of unsatisfied longings. On regression of these conscious desires, the subcoscious and uncoscious minds apparently become symbols of sabotage but on sublimation they transform into creative subconscious and creative uncoscious respectively. It is either as the peaceful use of neuclear energy or as to irrigate the far flung barren lands from a large dam. When Plato said that even an expert of Poetic Technique could not create great poetry without intuitive insanity, he wanted to say that the poet could not depend on his conscious mind only because the source of superior creations is afterall the unconscious, the backyard of mind. Since then people have been considering the poets to be abnormal. You may call it insanity or licentiousness or poetic spell or revelation or intuition or poetic inspiration. On the other hand, a genius who is also seen at the last footstep of conscious, mostly depends upon his intuition. Therefore he is also considered to be abnormal. A litrary genius seldom turns to be normal but as a human being his best creative faculties operate during the most normal moments of his life. These are intellectual moments indeed. The analysis of revelation or intuition shows that it operates in two modes. In first mode, a totally untouched thought steps into conscious all of a sudden. It is usually considered similar to electric lightning. Therefore poets, mystics, even scientists, all are aware of it. While the second mode is more common which is also understood by people having non creative mind. This is called productive thinking and it is placed second to intuition. For example, a forgotten name or face or event comes into conscious suddenly during half-asleep. The first mode is related to unconscious while the second mode is related to subconscious. The subconscious is more important in both. In first mode, the unconscious is raised upto the level of subconscious. While in the second mode subconscious is itself a source of information. First mode is usually named as Poetic Inspiration while second as Poetic Imagination. A stream of thoughts begins to flow from subconscious towards conscious in both modes. Where in a trance-like state, the creator and his creation become two peas in a pod. At the end of the process when he observes his creation for the first time, it is no more a part of his subjective process but now he studies it objectively and makes modifications and additions in it. Thus he observes his creation as its first listener and critic, and tries to analyse what he has listened during intuition. In the first mode creative unconscious is responsible for the subjective process and creative conscious is resposible for the objective one. Likewise in the second mode creative subcoscious is responsible for the subjective process and creative conscious is responsible for the objective one. The creative conscious comes into existence by mastering the Poetic Technique. In fact, the functions of creative unconscious, creative subconscious, and creative conscious are so intercombined that they can not be isolated from one another. They are collectively known as Poetic Sense. In general terms Poetic Technique, Poetic Imagination and Poetic Inspiration are collectively called Poetic Sense.
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You whom I could not save
Listen to me.
Try to understand this simple speech as I would be ashamed of another.
I swear, there is in me no wizardry of words.
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We women teach our little sons how wrong
And how ignoble blows are; school and church
Support our precepts and inoculate
The growing minds with thoughts of love and peace.
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Since rhyming and rhythm are terribly boring
They must now be barred from all musical scoring;
Those poets employing these rhythms and rhymes
Should pay with their lives for committing such crimes!
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Simon makes it all come together, perfectly,
placing antiques 'n curio's on dusted black shelves,
window-sil ledges with geometric widgets,
navigating his world, by touch, and by texture.
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There must be something
In the moon's soft glow
That causes our
Creative juices to flow.
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There's a miracle called "Friendship." Oh what a miracle it is
in just keepin' it real. The "Friendship" dwells way, way down deep in the heart and soul of
a person or individuals. You don't know how this "Friendship" happens, it just happens so soulfully. It is a light from the "Friendship" that provides sunlight to the soul
whenever it happens. But you know and recognize the special lift the
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Sometimes the poem
doesn't want to come;
it hides from the poet
like a playful cat
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Busy spider's web.
Web of silence - maybe spies!
I sure spies a web.
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Thought is deeper than all speech,
Feeling deeper than all thought:
Souls to souls never can teach
What unto themselves was taught.
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Put away childish things
yet keep the childlike wonder.
Though dreams be rent asunder
our wishes still have wings.
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What do you witness in modern poetry?
Does it represent sentiments of any country?
Do fond actual spirit missing and has evaporated?
It seems mind is bogged down and perforated,
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However the battle is ended,
Though proudly the victor comes
With fluttering flags and prancing nags
And echoing roll of drums.
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To my seven dear friends of Poem Hunter
Sylvia, Rose, Bharati, Indira, Susan, Sandra & Varsha!

I just wanted to express my feelings,
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We can’t have separate way
Wise men always preferred to say
what else can be good in a day?
When everybody has to earn and dearly pay
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a tribute written for sacred words
in recognition of a masterpiece poem
the poem 'A Prayer For Humanity'
written by the poet M. Asim Nehal
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In bygone days when life's array -
The sweet song of the nightingale
And maidens' eyes, the rustling woods -
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We are out of our range
Of vision
In search of inspiration for our decision
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There is great truth in the saying that great minds think alike.
And it's seen in your lovely poems which is much to my delight.

Your eyes can clearly perceive what others find hard to see,
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Wonderful words given to me
By other poets sharing their gift for others to see.
Words of hope... and healing too
Then words of such sadness. That You just wish you could touch
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The fine delight that fathers thought; the strong
Spur, live and lancing like the blowpipe flame,
Breathes once and, quenchèd faster than it came,
Leaves yet the mind a mother of immortal song.
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Hark to the Sourdough story, told at sixty below,
When the pipes are lit and we smoke and spit
Into the campfire glow.
Rugged are we and hoary, and statin' a general rule,
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A thousand flowers sprout in the bosom
The dreams of the years gone now subdued
In the wake of reality that descends
Like waves after waves on the shore
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I sit here with true amazement
As I witness the profound arts
Of Poem Hunter's Kings and Queens
Majestic hearts spreading Love and Wisdom
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Not like a daring, bold, aggressive boy,
Is inspiration, eager to pursue,
But rather like a maiden, fond, yet coy,
Who gives herself to him who best doth woo.
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Sitting under the Banyan tree I watch the water hitting its raised roots
Restless and agitated as a disturbed mind.
It's effervescence matching my own state of mind.
On the sun baked land the Banyan tree stands alone in silent meditation.
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LOVE, most beautiful natural instinct life has given us,
LOVE, mother nature provides the many loves for basic survival,
LOVE, the greatest demand and motivation within humans,
LOVE, strongest mental force from these instinctive wants.
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I wake up to a beautiful morning
Each time your image comes to mind
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Down the street as I was drifting with the city's human tide,
Came a ghost, and for a moment walked in silence by my side --
Now my heart was hard and bitter, and a bitter spirit he,
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Although you have given me a stomach upset,
Weak knees, a lurching heart, a fuzzy brain,
A high-pitched laugh, a monumental phone bill,
A feeling of unworthiness, sharp pain
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What`s more powerful than a child`s disappointment?
It shatters the heart that you have failed them
And that everything they were ever proud of you for
Has died and left them feeling lost
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I fall a prey to great affliction,
Undergo sufferance with botheration.

Why should I undergo pain and fret?
Why should I twitching heartache get?
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I'm not the one you long for, that you worship and adore
I'm not the one your heart is crying for
I'm not that pretty sweet young lass that colors all your dreams
I'm not your cute angelic girl next door
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Noonday upon the Alpine meadows
Pours its avalanche of Light
And blazing flowers: the very shadows
Translucent are and bright.
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Some men there are who find in nature all
Their inspiration, hers the sympathy
Which spurs them on to any great endeavor,
To them the fields and woods are closest friends,
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before i met u i was known mearly by my name
after i met you i am known as the happiest soul
you are my inspiration, you are my teacher
you are my angel, you are my superstar
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As I sit here wondering
The purpose of it all,
Memories envelope me,
Whispers faintly call;
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Is there a spot where the sun lays to rest
When brightness escapes into the night sky?
Is there a cradle the stars call their nest
Where they can leave the sadness that passed by?
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There is nothing,
Like being a FRIEND.
There is nothing,
Like being a WELL WISHER.
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Masterpiece is art to remember
Time and phases, surface and spaces
Life is real time art
Empty is where to start
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It’s the poetry of life painting like the frost
on the tip of autumn’s breeze.
It’s the poetry of life found and never lost
Feeling comfortably at ease
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TO THE SLEEPLESS BELLS
(TO THE POET CHUMMED UP
WITH A VERSEZ...)
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Poems will come,
Poems will go,
Some will choose to stay
What an honor it is to me, my friends
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he is the inspiration
to my every creation
Concerning my life and education
he helps me move every cloud
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I am in love with you right from the start
Flood of love has inundated my heart!
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In a poet's book,
Poetry is king.
Poems of hope,
Are revealed within
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I remember, still remember
Though she's lately gone ahead;
They still linger, always linger
Precious words my momma said.
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Today on the trail
the temperature high
the humidity heavy
like a beast of burden-
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We look to you…., to be our guide….,
Our hearts can feel you…., by our side….,
Deep in our souls…, we're convinced…,
You’ve Been Our Inspiration….,
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I love you
Since you came into my life
I have looked forward to each sunrise
The early morning with you in your arms
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What a gift it is to inspire
even with no desire
one heart holds another, so dear
in a Glorious embrace
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Beside a flame
burning desire

inspiration
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Father, first of all know how much I love you and appreciate you
in my life. Father you never leave me, always there to see me
through. This week Father you were ever present in not only my
life but that of my daughter and I thank you for what you did for
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Could I from this valley drear,
Where the mist hangs heavily,
Soar to some more blissful sphere,
Ah! how happy should I be!
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Allowing the tinkling
Romance to dance
Ethereally into eternity
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Left my home town just before six am
The right thumb was my only ride
Someone finally stopped, thank you ma'am
Heading to the city that has nothin' to hide
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Uncomprising year—I see no meaning to life.
Though this abled self is here nonetheless,
either in trade gold or grammaticness,
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When all else fails
The Economists look to
The alphabets for inspiration
Will the economic recovery be V shaped?
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As you flick through my pages
and surrender to my thoughtful and playful words
Remember I am just another actress
on this very frightful dark stage
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Whats our relationship you ask
I don’t know you speak
What am I to say
Just that as you said
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Leaned against the pillars draped in the twilight
I felt my inner darkness merge with your light
I am afraid to walk alone on this unfamiliar path,
It looks so empty and ruinous with wrath
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Speak out my dear
Why hath thou in a state of depression?
Speak out my dear
I stand here waiting for thy confession
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I went in search of nightingales' feathers.
Collected a few from the nest of nightingales.
Kept those near my bed and went to sleep.
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LIFE of Ages, richly poured,
Love of God, unspent and free,
Flowing in the Prophet’s word
And the People’s liberty!
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I still recall the wondrous moment
When you appeared before my eyes,
Just like a fleeting apparition,
Just like pure beauty's distillation.
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A place to rest one’s body and soul,
to put life’s worries on temporary hold.
A time to pray to the good Lord above,
and ask for His un-con-di-tion-al Love.
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Women are fantastic God's creation,
Please respect them.

Women are nature's fabulous manifestation,
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