Thursday, March 17, 2011

What is this called poetry

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The unending cry of William  Wordsworth,
His praise of nature, from the "Tintern Abbey"
The sights and sounds,
The the pleasures both raw and polished,
The beauty, both within and without,
what is this called poetry.

A sorrowful John Keats, 
Panting yet praising; an Urn, -a Grecian old urn,
Beholding an art with life,
Of maidens and of passionate lovers, 
Of the thing they loath and love equal.
Lamenting like little lunatic boy,
at the life less sight,
of a garlanded cow and of a priest,
The citadel that at peace in the morn,
silent and desolate, 
The cold pastoral, - a waste of generation.
Truth  , Beauty, Beauty Truth.
What is this called Poetry.

 to be Continued.......................................................... 


  1. so Mr. Kuenzang is a poet as well. Good to know that! :)

  2. ahh nice, you have intricately blended all that was....

  3. Hi Kuenzang!

    Thanks for helping spread the word about my upcoming novel, My Beginning.

    Please contact me via my website here with your mailing address to I can send you your prize.

    Melissa Kline

  4. Hello, I am new at your blog, but loved your poem. I came to your post from Rosi's blog. Hope you will visit mine as well.

  5. Hello again, thanks for following me. Looking forward to reading new poems by you.

  6. refreshing lines, memories refreshed, beautiful words. Please write more for this no doubt is poetry.



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