• POETRY

  • Featured Poetry

    Haiku and Free Verse

    Bright sunrise image on beige background.

    Haiku

    An amazing transformation takes place between sunset and sunrise, resulting in an illuminated sky. This is a fascinating phenomenon that leaves many awestruck.

    Gray skies over body of water on pink background.

    Free Verse

    This one-stanza poem sets the scene for what precedes a sense of calmness and serenity. The use of descriptive environmental imagery successfully conveyed this idea.

    Man sitting on a dock by a body of water on a blue background.

    Haiku

    Longing to escape conflict and stress can lead to a "fight or flight" response. This short poem indicates the "flight" response that many succumb to when under pressure.

  • My Journey Into Writing Poetry

    White laptop, pen and paper on a yellow background.

    I believe that poetry has an amazing creative outlet for aspiring writers, and has the ability to entertain, inspire, and enlighten its readers.

    I've always been fascinated with creative writing since my 9th-grade high school teacher announced an upcoming short story contest. To my surprise, I was one of the two winners of the competition.

    That same year, I reluctantly challenged myself by entering the Bob Hope Poetry Writing Competition, where I received an honorable mention.

    After being bitten by the creative writing bug, I sought to expand my knowledge, becoming an avid reader and writer of Renaissance-era poetry and short stories.

    Although I developed an interest in both literary art forms, my love for poetry grew significantly.

    Over time, I began to focus more on writing poetry and less on short stories. While I enjoy writing across diverse genres, I've discovered the most fun in writing haiku, free-verse, tanka, and lyric poetry.

    As my passion for poetry deepened, I joined a local poetry group, where the club’s president provided monthly writing prompts. The group members were also required to share and critique one another’s work.

    I'm grateful for the inspiration and valuable experience gained from participating in that group. Fast forward to 2024, I decided to write new poems and revisit some old ones to share on this general writing portfolio website.

    One of my favorite poetic forms is the ballad quatrain, consisting of four-line stanzas with an alternating rhyme scheme (abcb), where the rhyme occurs in the last word of lines two and four.

    My poetry collection showcases a variety of forms, including haiku, free verse, lyric, and tanka poetry.

    A brown-skinned person's hand holding a paintbrush and surrounded by buckets of paint.

    FUN FACT

    What's the connection between painting and poetry?

    The answer to this question is summed up in a quote from a renowned Italian Renaissance Era painter and sculptor.

    "Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen."

    Leonardo da Vinci

  • Quotes About Poetry

    Explore quotations about poetry written by renowned, historical poets and literary greats who have produced significant amounts of work and earned the respect and admiration of the world.

    Caucasian female wearing dark-colored dress displaying a stoic face.

    Emily Dickinson

    "If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry."

    Middle-aged African-american male wearing a yellow shirt and dark-colored tie with a red background color.


    -Langston Hughes

    "Politics can be the graveyard of the poet. And only poetry can be his resurrection."

    Grayscale photo with bearded older gentleman wearing a dark suit.

    Feature

    "Poetry cannot breathe in the scholar's atmosphere.”Poetry cannot breathe in the scholar's atmosphere."

  • About my poetry collection…

    If asked to state my top favorite poetic form, I'd choose the Japanese haiku because they are super short, and fun to write.

    Nevertheless, they're challenging to write because this three-line poem form must make sense and flow well.

    Also, it's imperative to adhere to its restrictive structure regarding the syllable count, line length, and abstract meaning.

    Another favorite form of mine is free verse, which permits the poet to create without rigid restrictions on line count, syllables, or rhyme scheme.

    The following poem collection is preceded by brief descriptions of their unique structures, (e.g., line, stanza, and syllable count.)

    Wooden blocks spelling the word poetry on a  multi-colored background .

    My Poetry Collection

    Copyright ©Charlene Shelmire, 2023

  • Haiku

    "A traditional Japanese haiku is a three-line poem with a seventeen (5/7/5) syllable count. Often focusing on images from nature, haiku emphasizes simplicity, intensity, and directness of expression."

    Pursuit of Solitude

    Aimlessly he fled,

    out from under the chaos—

    then solace ensued.

    Illuminated

    The emerging sun

    obliterated the dusk.

    Illuminated

    Beneath the Ocean Waves

    Beneath the ocean,

    lies aqua-blue, crystal-clear

    dazzling waters waves.

    Broken Tree Trunk

    The turbulent wind

    violently swayed the tree

    'til its dissection.

    Hurricane

    Brutal howling winds

    Torrential rain,

    and peeled roofs

    Natural disaster

    Originality

    An innovator

    embraces uniqueness, but

    shuns replication

    Cumulus Clouds

    Fluffy, white as snow

    Cottony, mashed potatoes

    Delish—yum, yum,yum

  • Free Verse

    "Free verse is the name given to poetry that doesn’t use any strict meter or rhyme scheme. Because it has no set

    meter, poems written in free verse can have lines of any length, from a single word to much longer."

    Racism

    Excerpt from my Black History Month article,

    "Police Brutality—The Systematic Racism of the Uniformed KKK."

    You rejected the uniqueness

    of my skin pigmentation.

    You stripped my authenticity

    by oppressing my voice.

    You beat and bound me

    with your whips and chains.

    You altered my identity,

    and robbed me of my dignity.

    You obstructed my freedom,

    and ignored all my pleas.

    You averted humanness,

    but embraced unjust cruelty.

    Dog Days of Summer

    Free verse poem excerpt from my science-based essay,

    "How the Earth's Shifting Triggers Torrid Temps."

    Blazing sun rays ascend—

    over the horizon.

    Soaring temps climbed

    in the Orient.

    The galaxy’s shiniest,

    and brightest star—Sirius

    —illuminates the vast,

    brightly-lit sky.

    As night falls, Sirius rises,

    and twinkles above the earth,

    emanating scorching heat,

    and rendering miserable,

    summer days, and nights,

    — ushering in those—

    hot dog days of summer.

    Wounded Warrior

    Though anguish firmly gripped

    his wounded soul, the warrior

    never stopped to nurture

    his bleeding wounds.

    The warrior refused to succumb

    to cowardice; instead, he

    persevered through tough

    challenges — knocking down

    walls of limitation —and

    re-emerged as a brave champion.

    His survival proved that his adversity

    was the catalyst for his resilience. 

    Resurgence of Hope

    Dreams do fade

    into utter oblivion, then

    as fate shifts its course—

    hope re-emerges

     

    Lone Drifter

    Aimlessly, he strolled on

    a path to nowhere land.

    Devoid of a guiding compass,

    he journeyed far and wide.

    Realizing his aversion

    to stability, and tendency

    toward complacency, he

    finally discovered that

    his true identity was,

    in fact,— The Lone Drifter.

    Good Morning Spring!

    Winter storms subside;

    cozy climate emerges

    Crystalized drops of dew

    saturates budding flowers.

    Moisture envelopes terrain;

    insects graze sweet nectar

    Soaring birds fly high while

    melodiously trilling its song.

    Imprisoned

     

    He is confined between prison walls

    Though he's restrained; he's liberated

    Trapped, but still going places

    Oppressed, but still uplifted

    Bound, yet shackle-free

    Pandemic

    Staring intensely out her windowlonging to

    escape confinement to her four-wall prison.

    She relentlessly sought liberation from the

    restrictions, and curfews imposed upon her.

    She daredn’t succumb to despair, but

    she lifted herself from the depths of

    captivity and loudly shouted, "End my

    misery, release these shackles,

    free me now, and let me go!"

     

    Sleeping Bayou

     

    An overcast sky

    high humidity,

    mosquitoes flying,

    birds-a-chirping, strong

    tall, massively branched,

    moss-filled cypress trees,

    hovers over the dark,

    alligator-infested waters.

    The bayou’s atmosphere is

    serene and devoid of activity,

    but even in its muteness; it

    makes beautiful, quiet music.

    Shh! Listen to the melody

    of the sleeping bayou.

    Explore it. Adore it.

    Capture its unseen beauty.

     

    Winter Blues

     

    Howling winds, cold and brutal

    Ground enveloped with snow

    Dead leaves, softly falling

    Inclement weather, storms blow

    Bones quiver, teeth-chatters

    Vanishing smiles, emerging gloom

    Barricaded, trapped inside

    Yearning sunlight, returns soon

    Sweet Blooming Gardenias

     

    Flaunting its classy hue,

    and distinctive shape.

    Its sensual fragrance emanates

    while a gentle summer breeze

    whispers through its soft,

    white pedals.

    Ah, those sweet gardenias!

  • Lyric

    Expressions

    Dark clouds, dominate the sky

    Lightning bolts, with roaring thunder

    Pouring rain, blinding my eyes

    Blinding my eyes, blinding my eyes,

    Blinding my eyes, so that I can’t see

    I can’t see

    Troubles of life, piercing my heart

    Oftentimes, I wonder if my pain

    Will ever cease, will it go away,

    When will it go? Please let it go,

    Please let it go, let it go away

    Never return, don't come back,

    I don't want you here

    I’m taken captive by sorrow

    Overwhelming despair, flooding

    my mind, robbing my peace

    I can’t sleep, I can’t breathe

    Suffocating in grief

    Heartaches and obstacles

    I must bear, makes me ponder,

    and conclude, “Why me, is this

    Is this how life should be?”

    All of my dreams are fading away Into

    blissless hope each passing day

    Passing day, can’t see my way

    Dark clouds can't stay, please go away

    I want to breathe, wanna breathe again

    Breathe again, breathe again,

    breathe aga--- (fade-out)

  • Poetry Spotlight

    "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings"

    By Poetist, Maya Angelou

    Middle-aged African-American female seated with hand clasped together.

    You may write me down in history

    With your bitter, twisted lies,

    You may trod me in the very dirt

    But still, like dust, I'll rise.

    Does my sassiness upset you?

    Why are you beset with gloom?

    ’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells

    Pumping in my living room.

    Just like moons and like suns,

    With the certainty of tides,

    Just like hopes springing high,

    Still I'll rise.

    Did you want to see me broken?

    Bowed head and lowered eyes?

    Shoulders falling down like teardrops,

    Weakened by my soulful cries?

    Does my haughtiness offend you?

    Don't you take it awful hard

    ’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines

    Diggin’ in my own backyard.

    You may shoot me with your words,

    You may cut me with your eyes,

    You may kill me with your hatefulness,

    But still, like air, I’ll rise.

    Does my sexiness upset you?

    Does it come as a surprise

    That I dance like I've got diamonds

    At the meeting of my thighs?

    Out of the huts of history’s shame

    I rise

    Up from a past that’s rooted in pain

    I rise

    I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,

    Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

    Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

    I rise

    Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear

    I rise

    Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,

    I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

    I rise

    I rise

    I rise.

    Citation: ("Angelou, Maya. (1969). I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.

    New York: Random House, p. 98. ISBN 978-0-375-50789-2")

    Hey Poetry Lovers!

    Here's my latest book recommendation.

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    I enjoyed reading the excellent collection of poetry featured in the April 2011 edition of the Poetry Magazine— a monthly poetry journal, published by the Poetry Foundation, founded in 1942 by Harriet Monroe.

    The book features a diverse group of poets, including Averill Curdy, Karen An-hwei Lee, and Laura Kasischke, and includes letters to the editor, and a list of contributors, and advertisements. Why Was This Book Chosen?
    I recommended this particular book because it closely aligns with my high expectations for a poetry compilation. It contains a variety of poetic genres, and forms written in a simplistic style by a talented group of literary geniuses.

    This book of poetry will inspire, captivate, and engage both the casual and avid reader to explore this literary art form.

    Group of characters displayed on a poetry poster over a dark-brown colored background.
    Image with black, blue and red text on a poster with a white background.