Great about verses:

Poetry is like painting: one work will captivate you more if you look at it closely, and another if you move further away.

Little cutesy poems irritate the nerves more than the creak of unoiled wheels.

The most valuable thing in life and in poetry is that which has broken.

Marina Tsvetaeva

Of all the arts, poetry is most tempted to replace its own idiosyncratic beauty with stolen glitter.

Humboldt W.

Poems succeed if they are created with spiritual clarity.

The writing of poetry is closer to worship than is commonly believed.

If only you knew from what rubbish Poems grow without shame... Like a dandelion near a fence, Like burdocks and quinoa.

A. A. Akhmatova

Poetry is not in verses alone: ​​it is spilled everywhere, it is around us. Take a look at these trees, at this sky - beauty and life breathe from everywhere, and where there is beauty and life, there is poetry.

I. S. Turgenev

For many people, writing poetry is a growing pain of the mind.

G. Lichtenberg

A beautiful verse is like a bow drawn through the sonorous fibers of our being. Not our own - our thoughts make the poet sing inside us. Telling us about the woman he loves, he delightfully awakens in our souls our love and our sorrow. He is a wizard. Understanding him, we become poets like him.

Where graceful verses flow, there is no place for vainglory.

Murasaki Shikibu

I turn to Russian versification. I think that over time we will turn to blank verse. There are too few rhymes in Russian. One calls the other. The flame inevitably drags the stone behind it. Because of the feeling, art certainly peeps out. Who is not tired of love and blood, difficult and wonderful, faithful and hypocritical, and so on.

Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin

- ... Are your poems good, tell yourself?
- Monstrous! Ivan suddenly said boldly and frankly.
- Do not write anymore! the visitor asked pleadingly.
I promise and I swear! - solemnly said Ivan ...

Mikhail Afanasyevich Bulgakov. "The Master and Margarita"

We all write poetry; poets differ from the rest only in that they write them with words.

John Fowles. "The French Lieutenant's Mistress"

Every poem is a veil stretched out on the points of a few words. These words shine like stars, because of them the poem exists.

Alexander Alexandrovich Blok

The poets of antiquity, unlike modern ones, rarely wrote more than a dozen poems during their long lives. It is understandable: they were all excellent magicians and did not like to waste themselves on trifles. Therefore, behind every poetic work of those times, a whole Universe is certainly hidden, filled with miracles - often dangerous for someone who inadvertently wakes dormant lines.

Max Fry. "The Talking Dead"

To one of my clumsy hippos-poems, I attached such a heavenly tail: ...

Mayakovsky! Your poems do not warm, do not excite, do not infect!
- My poems are not a stove, not a sea and not a plague!

Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky

Poems are our inner music, clothed in words, permeated with thin strings of meanings and dreams, and therefore drive away critics. They are but miserable drinkers of poetry. What can a critic say about the depths of your soul? Don't let his vulgar groping hands in there. Let the verses seem to him an absurd lowing, a chaotic jumble of words. For us, this is a song of freedom from tedious reason, a glorious song that sounds on the snow-white slopes of our amazing soul.

Boris Krieger. "A Thousand Lives"

Poems are the thrill of the heart, the excitement of the soul and tears. And tears are nothing but pure poetry that has rejected the word.

First version of the poem
On the market square
At the fire station
All day long
There is a soldier at the booth.
Looks around -
On North,
South,
To the west,
To the East, -
Do you see smoke?

Mother went to the market
Daughter Lena said:
"Don't touch the stove, Lenochka.
It burns, Lenochka, fire!"

Lena sat down in front of the stove,
Looks into the red crack,
And the fire sings - hums:
"Today there is little space in the stove,
There was nowhere to roam!
Mom, Lenochka, do not believe.
Open the door a little!"

Lena opened the door.
The fire jumped from the log,
Burned the floor in front of the stove
Climb up the tablecloth on the table,
Crawled up the curtains
The walls were covered in smoke
Licks the floor and ceiling.

Poor Lena became scared.
Lena ran out into the hallway,
The door closed behind you
And the fire roars: "Open!"
He blew smoke through the crack in the door,
He stuck his hand into the hole.
Lena rushed into the yard,
From the yard - through the fence ...
And the fire is getting higher and higher.
The cat rushes about on the roof.

From neighboring gates
People run out
Who is with a jug, who is with a bucket -
Pour a burning house.
Fire! Fire!
From the window to the pavement
A featherbed falls into a puddle,
Armchair, stove and picture,
Gramophone and samovar...
Guard! Fire! Fire!

On the market square
On the fire tower -
Ding dong, ding dong
There is a loud chime.
The work starts
The gates open
convoy is gathering,
They pull a ladder, a pump.
From the gate without a wire
Barrels come out with a crash.
Here is the first horse
Jumped over the pavement.

And behind him a squad of firefighters
In radiant copper helmets
Flew through the market
On the way to the fire...

And the fire is higher, higher,
Coming out from under the roof
Looks around,
Waving red sleeve.
"Who took it!" - shouts to the people, -
Break the glass! Pour water!
I'll run across the rooftops
I'll set fire to the whole city!"

But it's close on the road
Drogs rush in a string.
Leaping ahead
Out of breath trumpeter.
In front of the house in clouds of dust
The horses were stopped.

Sleeve turned up
Clamping his copper mouth.
The elastic sleeve hissed,
All shook from the strain
And when the faucet was turned on
The fountain went up high.
Hey, brigade, don't yawn!
Download, download!

Evil fire roars and blazes,
He threw two firefighters off the roof
And the axeman Kuzma
I wanted to suffocate in smoke.
But Kuzma is an old firefighter,
Fighting fires for twenty years
Saved forty souls from death
Fell off the roof ten times.
He's not afraid of anything
He beats the fire with his mitten,
Boldly climbs the wall.
The helmet glows on fire.

Suddenly on the roof from under the beam
Someone's cry was heard pitiful,
And across the fire
Kuzma climbed into the attic.
He stuck his head out the window.
I looked ... Yes, it's a cat!
"You'll be lost here in the fire.
Get in my pocket!"

Flames rage wide.
Scattered with tongues
Licks nearby houses...
Kuzma fights back.
Looking for a way in n name,
Calls the younger ones for help.
And rush to his call
Ten brave fellows.

They destroy the beams with axes,
Fires are extinguished from hoses.
thick black cloud
Smoke follows them...
The flame rushes about and gets angry,
Running away like a fox.
A fire gut
Chases the beast from the attic.

Here the logs have turned black ...
Evil fire hisses from the crack:
"Spare me, Kuzma,
I won't burn houses!"

"Shut up, insidious fire! -
The fireman tells him:
You will remember Kuzma!
I will put you in jail.
You will live only in the oven,
Only in a lamp and on a candle!"

Here is the fire for the last time
Angry - and went out.

On the panel at the gate
The people are waiting for saviors.

Just saw Kuzma,
With a cry they rushed to him -
They hug, they ask for a visit,
They bring him pies.
"Oh, Kuzma, you are our Kuzma,
Saved us today at home!
Dear firefighter,
We are forever grateful!"

On the bench at the gate
Lena sheds bitter tears.
Poor Lena's house burned down -
Ceilings, floors and walls,
Cat, doll and bed.
There will be nowhere to sleep at night.
And in addition to her for the prank
Got it from parents.

The girl is crying sobbing.
And Kuzma says to her:
"Crying, young lady, it's not worth it,
A new house will be built for you.
Your cat has been saved.
Admire - here it is!"

Lena tightly squeezed the cat
And calmed down a bit.

From the gate on the pavement
The rider departs.
And behind him a squad of firefighters
In radiant copper helmets
Drives slowly back.
Barrels, jumping, rattle.
Here is Kuzma sitting on the droges.
He's got burnt face
Bloody forehead, black eye.
It's not the first time for him!
He worked hard -
Handled the fire well!


Second version of the poem
On the market square
At the fire station
All day long
Watchman at the booth
looked around -
On North,
South,
To the west,
To the East, -
Can't you see the smoke?

And if he saw a fire,
Floating carbon monoxide smoke,
He raised a beacon
Above the fire tower.

And two balls
And three balls
Soared up, it happened.
And here from the fire yard
The team was leaving.

The alarm bell woke the people
The pavement shook.
And rushed forward with a roar
The team is gone.

Now there is no need for a kalanchi, -
Call by phone
And tell about the fire
the nearest area.

Let every citizen remember
Fire number: zero-one!

There is a concrete house in the area -
Three floors and above -
With large yard and garage
And with a tower on the roof.

Changing, in the top floor
Firefighters are sitting
And their cars in the garage
They look at the door with a motor.

Just a little - at night or in the afternoon -
Give an alarm
A dashing squad of fire fighters
Carrying down the road...

Mother went to the market
Daughter Lena said:
- Don't touch the stove, Lenochka.
It burns, Lenochka, fire!

Only mother came down from the porch,
Lena sat down in front of the stove,
Looks into the red crack,
And the fire is roaring in the oven.

Lena opened the door -
The fire jumped from the log,
Burned the floor in front of the stove
Climb up the tablecloth on the table,
Ran over the chairs with a bang,
Crawled up the curtains
The walls were covered in smoke
Licks the floor and ceiling.

But the firemen knew
Where it burns, in what quarter.
The commander gives the signal
And now - in a single moment -
Cars break out
From the open gates.

They rush into the distance with a booming sound.
There is no obstacle in their way.
And turns to green
There is a red light in front of them.

In five minutes cars
They reached the fire
Lined up at the gate
Connected elastic hose,
And, puffed up with effort,
He hit like a machine gun.

Carbon monoxide smoke swirled.
Gary's room is full.
In the hands of Kuzma the fireman
Carried Lena out of the window.

He, Kuzma, is an old firefighter,
Fighting fires for twenty years
Saved forty souls from death
Fought with flames more than once.

He's not afraid of anything
puts on gloves,
Boldly climbs the wall.
The helmet glows on fire.

Suddenly on the roof from under the beam
Someone's cry was heard pitiful,
And across the fire
Kuzma climbed into the attic.

I stuck my head in the window
Looked ... - Yes, it's a cat!
You will perish here in the fire.
Get into my pocket!

Flames rage wide...
Scattered with tongues
Licks nearby houses.
Kuzma fights back.

Looking for a way through the flames
Calls the younger ones for help
And rush to his call
Three tall fellows.

They destroy the beams with axes,
Fires are extinguished from hoses.
thick black cloud
Smoke curls underfoot.

The flame shudders and gets angry
Runs away like a fox.
A jet from afar
Chases the beast from the attic.

Here the logs have turned black ...
Evil fire hisses from the crack:
- Spare me, Kuzma,
I will not burn houses!

Shut up, insidious fire! -
The fireman tells him. -
I'll show you Kuzma!
I'll put you in jail!

Stay in the oven
In an old lamp and on a candle!

On the bench at the gate
Lena sheds bitter tears.
On the panel in front of the house -
Table and chairs and bed...
Going to friends
Lena spend the night with her mother.

The girl is crying sobbing,
And Kuzma says to her:
- Do not flood the fire with tears,
We will put out the fire with water.
You will live and live.
Only chur - do not set fire!
Here's a cat for you.
Dry it up a bit!

It is done. Hang up.
And again on the bridge
Cars rushed
They trumpeted, they called.
Rushing ladder, pump.
Dust curls from under the wheels.

Here is Kuzma in a crumpled helmet.
His head is bandaged
Forehead in blood, black eye, -
It's not the first time for him.
He worked hard -
Handled the fire well!

On the market square

At the fire station

All day long

Watchman at the booth

looked around

On North,

To the west,

To the East,

Can't you see the smoke?

And if he saw a fire,

Floating carbon monoxide smoke,

He raised a beacon

Above the fire tower.

And two balls

And three balls

Soared up, it happened.

And here from the fire yard

The team was leaving.

The alarm bell woke the people

The pavement shook.

And rushed forward with a roar

The team is gone.

Now you don't need a kalanchi

Call by phone

And tell about the fire

the nearest area.

Let every citizen remember

Fire number: zero-one!

There is a concrete house in the area

Three floors and above

With large yard and garage

And with a tower on the roof.

Changing, in the top floor

Firefighters are sitting

And their cars in the garage

They look at the door with a motor.

Just a little - at night or in the afternoon

Give an alarm

A dashing squad of fire fighters

Carrying along the road…

Mother went to the market

Daughter Lena said:

- Don't touch the stove, Lenochka.

It burns, Lenochka, fire!

Only mother came down from the porch,

Lena sat down in front of the stove,

Looks into the red crack,

And the fire is roaring in the oven.

Lena opened the door

The fire jumped from the log,

Burned the floor in front of the stove

Climb up the tablecloth on the table,

Ran over the chairs with a bang,

Crawled up the curtains

The walls were covered in smoke

Licks the floor and ceiling.

But the firemen knew

Where it burns, in what quarter.

The commander gives the signal

And now - in a single moment

Cars break out

From the open gates.

They rush into the distance with a booming sound.

There is no obstacle in their way.

And turns to green

There is a red light in front of them.

In five minutes cars

They reached the fire

Lined up at the gate

Connected elastic hose,

And, puffed up with effort,

He hit like a machine gun.

Carbon monoxide smoke swirled.

Gary's room is full.

In the hands of Kuzma the fireman

Carried Lena out of the window.

He, Kuzma, is an old firefighter,

Fighting fires for twenty years

Saved forty souls from death

Fought with flames more than once.

He's not afraid of anything

puts on gloves,

Boldly climbs the wall.

The helmet glows on fire.

Suddenly on the roof from under the beam

Someone's cry was heard pitiful,

And across the fire

Kuzma climbed into the attic.

I stuck my head in the window

Looked ... - Yes, it's a cat!

You will perish here in the fire.

Get into my pocket!

Flames rage wide...

Scattered with tongues

Licks nearby houses.

Kuzma fights back.

Looking for a way through the flames

Calls the younger ones for help

And rush to his call

Three tall fellows.

They destroy the beams with axes,

Fires are extinguished from hoses.

thick black cloud

Smoke curls underfoot.

The flame shudders and gets angry

Runs away like a fox.

A jet from afar

Chases the beast from the attic.

Here the logs have turned black ...

Evil fire hisses from the crack:

- Spare me, Kuzma,

I will not burn houses!

"Shut up, treacherous fire!"

The fireman tells him.

I'll show you Kuzma!

I'll put you in jail!

Stay in the oven

In an old lamp and on a candle!

On the bench at the gate

Lena sheds bitter tears.

On the panel in front of the house

Table and chairs and bed...

Going to friends

Lena spend the night with her mother.

The girl is crying sobbing,

And Kuzma says to her:

- Do not flood the fire with tears,

We will put out the fire with water.

You will live and live.

Only chur - do not set fire!

Here's a cat for you.

Dry it up a bit!

It is done. Hang up.

And again on the bridge

Cars rushed

They trumpeted, they called.

Rushing ladder, pump.

Dust curls from under the wheels.

Here is Kuzma in a crumpled helmet.

His head is bandaged

Bloody forehead, black eye

It's not the first time for him.

He worked hard

Handled the fire well!

“So she will soon start sniffing tobacco, if she doesn’t sniff already,” thought Scarlett in horror. - Great God! What a fall!
Margaret Mitchell "Gone with the Wind"

Mother went to the market
Daughter Lena said:
- Don't touch the stove, Lenochka.
It burns, Lenochka, fire!

Only mother came down from the porch,
Lena sat down in front of the stove,
Looks into the red crack
And the fire burns in the oven.

Opened the stove Lena -
The fire jumped from the log,
Burned the floor in front of the stove
Climb up the tablecloth onto the table...

On the panel near the house -
Table and chairs and bed...
Going to friends
Mom and Lena spend the night ...
S.Ya. Marshak "Fire"

Fires ... Tragedies that occur not in a certain area and in a single family, but all over the world. The cases are different: unattended sources of combustion, faulty wiring, or, as in this poem, children left alone with the fire. But the most common is smoking in bed (not necessarily in a drunken state) and an unextinguished cigarette, which, from the snap of fingers, has fallen into that favorable place where there are all conditions for a flame to ignite from its spark.
How many buildings and living souls perish in the hot embrace of the "red rooster"! As a rule, the latter becomes the cause of the fire element ... In this material I will not tell the “horror stories from the fire”, but I will dwell on smoking in more detail.
Which of us, climbing the stairs to our floor, did not resent the tobacco smoke on the flights? In response to your remark, you can hear: “I’m not in a puff,” if there is a poster “No smoking!”: “Under the sign you can!” or: "But I'm not myself!". In the meantime, each of these mild wits is obliged to know and convey to others that it is necessary to study the law, which contains the truths indicating in what places it is forbidden to smoke and arrange smoking rooms.
In the old days, there was an entertaining game "Smoking Room". Its meaning was that the participants passed each other a burning splinter, and whoever in their hands it went out, he expiated the guilt with a song or dance. During the transmission they sang:
"Once upon a time there was a Smoking Room,
There lived a smoking-room,
Don't die.
Like our smoking room
thin legs,
The soul is short.

Don't die, Kurilka,
Don't die, Kurilka.
me pretty
Don't make them jump."
Read the text carefully - after all, even the ancestors made it clear that it is necessary to get rid of the addiction, which is sometimes disgusting to close people, and they will not hide the joy of separation from you - everyone wants to be respected.
When Italy banned smoking in public places, after five months, doctors noted that the admission of patients with a heart attack to hospitals decreased by 11%. Of this number, only 0.7% are tobacco users. The rest of the percentage was made up of non-smokers who involuntarily became passive smokers and breathed someone else's exhaled smoke ... Such is the smoky story ...
We talk a lot about the dangers of smoking, voicing the terrible dogma that one drop of nicotine kills a horse. The era of non-smoking does not come from this. It is better to write on packs of cigarettes instead of an instructive warning from the Ministry of Health: “Poison yourself!” This may work better than a frightening lecture, and the effect, it is possible, will be exactly the opposite.
"VSV", June 2010

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On the market square
At the fire station
All day long
Watchman at the booth
looked around -
On North,
South,
To the west,
To the East, -
Can't you see the smoke?

And if he saw a fire,
Floating carbon monoxide smoke,
He raised a beacon
Above the fire tower.

And two balls
And three balls
Soared up, it happened.
And here from the fire yard
The team was leaving.

The alarm bell woke the people.
The pavement shook.
And rushed forward with a roar
Team gone...

Now you don't need a kalanchi -
Call by phone
And tell about the fire
the nearest area.
Let everyone remember
citizen
Fire number: zero one!
There is a concrete house in the area -
Three floors and above -
With large yard and garage
And with a tower on the roof.
Changing, in the top floor
Firefighters are sitting
And their cars in the garage
They look at the door with a motor.

Just a little - at night or during the day -
Give an alarm
A dashing squad of fire fighters
Carrying along the road...

*
Mother went to the market
Daughter Lena said:
- Do not touch the stove, Lenochka:
It burns, Lenochka, fire!
Only mother came down from the porch,
Lena sat down in front of the stove,
Looks into the red crack
And the fire is roaring in the oven.

Lena opened the door -
The fire jumped from the log,
Burned the floor in front of the stove
Climb up the tablecloth onto the table.
Ran over the chairs with a bang,
Crawled up the curtains
The walls were covered in smoke
Licks the floor and ceiling.

But the firemen knew
Where it burns, in what quarter,
The commander gives the signal
And now - in a single moment -
Cars break out
From the open gates.

They rush into the distance with a booming sound.
There is no obstacle in their way.
And turns to green
There is a red light in front of them.

At zero minutes cars
They reached the fire
Lined up at the gate
Connected elastic hose,
And, puffed up with effort,
He hit like a machine gun.

The smoke of carbon monoxide swirled,
Gary's room is full.
In the hands of Kuzma the fireman
Carried Lena out of the window.

He, Kuzma, is an old fireman,
Fighting fires for twenty years
Saved forty souls from death
Fought with flames more than once.

He is not afraid of anything:
puts on gloves,
Boldly climbs the wall.
The helmet glows on fire.

Suddenly on the roof from under the beam
Someone's cry was heard pitiful,
And across the fire
Kuzma climbed into the attic.

I stuck my head in the window
I looked ... - yes, it's a cat!
- You'll be lost here in the fire.
Get into my pocket!

Flames rage wide...
Scattered with tongues
Licks nearby houses.
Kuzma fights back.

Looking for a way through the flames
Calls the younger ones for help
And rush to his call
Three tall fellows.

They destroy the beams with axes,
Fires are extinguished from hoses.
Thick black cloud
Smoke follows them.

The flame huddles and gets angry
Runs away like a fox.
A jet from afar
Chases the beast from the attic.

Here the logs have turned black ...
Evil fire hisses from the crack:
- Spare me, Kuzma,
I will not burn houses!

"Shut up, treacherous fire!" -
The fireman tells him. -
I'll show you Kuzma!
I'll put you in jail!

Stay in the oven
In an old lamp and on a candle!

*
On the bench at the gate
Lena sheds bitter tears.
On the panel in front of the house -
Table and chairs and bed...

Going to friends
Lena spend the night with her mother.

The girl is crying sobbing,
And Kuzma says to her:
- Do not flood the fire with tears,
We put out fires with water.

You will live and live.
Only, chur - do not set fire!
Here's a cat for you.
Dry it up a bit!

*
It is done. Hang up.
And again on the bridge
Cars rushed
They trumpeted, they called.
Rushing ladder, pump.
Dust curls from under the wheels.

Here is Kuzma in a crumpled helmet,
His head is bandaged
Forehead in blood, black eye -
It's not the first time for him!
He worked hard -
Handled the fire well!