Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Working With Titles workshop

This shows the poems in just one one workshop. To see all the poems on Neopoet, go to the stream. Or go to the workshop page itself, where you can find out more about the syllabus.

Straight From Your Pen

Submitted by Barbara Writes on Thu, 2012-02-09 14:59

Great poetry comes straight from
Pens of great poets 
Not stifled by egos 
That hinder 

Willing to work on weaknesses taking liberties
Born from loins and wombs
Not literal, just poetical
That heals 

Inner self tortured by soul
Flaming with passion and distresses

Straight from your pen 
Titles were created, inducing
Creativity, flexibility in
Writing grandeur poems

Workshop: 
Working With Titles

WHEN I FALL

Submitted by Bonitaj on Thu, 2012-02-09 04:04

This full catastrophe living
is tough
morning catcalls of capricious longing
an abstemious journey that leaves me replete

with nothing

my mother always said
the reason why love matters
is so that we'll live life well
feel in sync,
even be lucky enough to be
touched

by an angel

Workshop: 
Working With Titles

THE DAY THE POETS DIED

Submitted by scribbler on Wed, 2012-02-08 19:39

I heard the sound of pages turning
from writers' alcoves everywhere
where the dim night lights were burning
and poets laid their deep souls bare.

Then there came that final day
when verse and music both were done.
Had bards not heard their parents say
be sure to not look in the sun?

That fierce light burned their muse to cinders
and dried the ink within their quill
regardless of their age or genders
without vision they'd lost their will.

Workshop: 
Working With Titles

When the Poet Died.

Submitted by wesley snow on Wed, 2012-02-08 14:28

When the poet died,
nothing lost was found.
Ever he would hide
poesy he had bound.

When the poet failed,
no one sought his work.
But he never quailed,
left alone in murk.

When the poet passed,
everything he wrote
stood no chance to last.
He had never gloat.

When the poet ceased,
beauty went away.
Darkness was released.
Now, the night is day.

When the poet died,
nothing lost was found.
We had all relied
on the poet's sound.

Workshop: 
Working With Titles

Excuse Me,I Thought You Could Write(Workshop Submissions)

Submitted by China Blue on Mon, 2012-02-06 23:27

Excuse Me , I Thought You Could Write(Splash Pool Submission Working with titles)

Confusion flies across the page
As if the words have lost their way
And originality has died
A run on sentence fell off the edge
committing suicide

you know not your assonance
from your consonance
Yet the script still prattles on
The coherent thought that should be there
Has all but left and gone

Your words look great upon the page
Roget would be so proud
Who cares about their meaning
Or how they sound aloud

Workshop: 
Working With Titles
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.