I think of my peace paintings as one long poem, with each painting being a single stanza.
quote by Robert Indiana

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0102 This is a disposable poem
This is a disposable poem.
Under each stanza
is a perforated line
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
you may read it stanza by stanza
and throw away each as you read
or having it read it through,
shorten it stanza by stanza
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
since many poems on this site
benefit from curtailing
because amateur poets
tend to be uncertain
about their work
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
and as a result either repeat
the essence of their poem at the end
or comment on it which takes
the power out of it
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
you might want to save that
previous stanza but as for
the other stanzas, here’s
a suggestion
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
enjoy being a critic and
dispose of them with a flourish
in one of these ways
certainly not both for reasons
which will become apparent
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
one method is to place
a waste-paper basket so called
at an optimum distance
far enough away to enjoy throwing
the ball of scrunch-up
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
but near enough not to miss;
do it with a flourish,
feel good, feel judgmental,
feel superior, feel right
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
or alternatively take this disposable poem
into the smallest room to read
for as long as it takes, this varies,
then put it behind you so to speak
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
again with a decisive gesture
though of course due care and
you may wish to accompany this
with some rather biblical utterance
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
such as, I shit in judgment upon
the works of the ungodly
and as for the works of the infidel
I put them behind me
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
and they shall be carried away
by the waters of righteousness yea
as though they had never been
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
aaah that felt good
poem by Michael Shepherd

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You ask me to leave (Pantoum poetry)
The “pantun” is a Malaysian poetic form that was introduced to the West by French novelist, essayist, and poet, Victor Hugo (1802-1885) , hence the French spelling, “pantoum.” Westerners have taken creative liberties with the Malaysian form, which tends to follow a standard rhyme form of ABAB, where multiple, rather than single subjects, are introduced. While pantoums can have unlimited stanzas, you might want to begin with a 3-stanza poem until you get the hang of it:
Stanza 1: Line 1/Line 2/Line 3/Line 4
Stanza 2: Line 5 (repeat of line 2 in stanza 1) /Line 6 (new line) /Line 7 (repeat of line 4 in stanza 1) /
Line 8 (new line)
Stanza 3/Last Stanza (This is the format for the last stanza regardless of how many preceding stanzas exist) : Line 9 (line 2 of the previous stanza) /Line 10 (line 3 of the first stanza) /Line 11 (line 4 of the previous stanza) /Line 12 (line 1 of the first stanza)
And you ask me to leave all behind
Now when our moment in time is done
Going nowhere with nothing in mind
'Cause you're my world and my special one
Now when our moment in time is done
I love you like there's no end in sight
'Cause you're my world and my special one
You're still on my mind all day and night.
I love you like there's no end in sight
You're inside me filling my soul's space
You're still on my mind all day and night.
I feel still cuddled in your embrace
You're inside me filling my soul's space
Going nowhere with nothing in mind
I feel still cuddled in your embrace
And you ask me to leave it all behind
poem by Marieta Maglas

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The paintings may communicate even better because people are lazy and they can look at a painting with less effort than they can read a poem.
quote by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Have Been Many Opening Lines Tonight
THERE HAVE BEEN MANY OPENING LINES TONIGHT
There have been many opening lines tonight
But none has been followed by a convincing poem -
Why is this evening one of trying and failing?
Why can't I at least write one small poem
That seems to me worthwhile?
I am doing better now-
There is a stanza,
And perhaps these lines will be a stanza too.
I have two small awkward stanzas
When I finish this one
I will try to feel I have a poem.
Nothing I do tonight is good enough
Is it better to have a poor poem
Or none at all?
I answer by posting these lines.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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To The One Who Says She Is Reading My Poem
let us have a compromise,
after reading the first stanza
from my magic lines
i will give you
youth, and on the second stanza
i will hand you
beauty
on the third stanza i will promise
you fortune
on the fourth perhaps
intelligence
and on the fifth perhaps
fame,
i have this magic wand
given by fairy godmother
the one used
for Cinderilla and Snow white
and Rapunzel
and Shrek, and so on and so forth,
tonight then you must read my poem,
but don't you be disappointed,
it has only one word.
Fool.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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I'm not so facile that I can accomplish or find out what I want to know or explore enough of the possibilities and a way of making a painting, say, in just one painting or two paintings.
quote by Robert Rauschenberg

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem.
I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,
I like the story.
poem by David Carter

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Poem.
I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,
I like the story.
poem by Aisha Patterson

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18 Definitions Of A Short Poem
1) A short poem
Saves time,
2) A short poem
Saves time
For its reader, also.
3) A short poem is over
Before its read.
4) A short poem
Can be swiftly reread.
5) A short poem
Is a lightning flash.
6) A short poem
Is one metaphor only.
7) A short poem
Is less than nine words.
8) A short poem
Opens ones eyes
In the morning.
9) A short poem
May be a short prayer.
10) A short poem
May be a poem of a single word.
11) Poem.
12) A short poem
A small play on words.
13) A short poem
May be a single sentence.
14) A short poem is shorter
Than the definition of it.
15) It breaks up the icy sea within.
16) A chill down the spine.
17) There is no end
To making definitions of the short poem.
18) A short poem in Hebrew
Is shorter than than the same poem in English.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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I Will Not Paint Those Paintings
I used to see paintings in my mind's eyes
I used to dream scenes amazing paintings
I used to dream paintings in sleep sight
paintings in details I had never seen before
paintings which stopped heart in sight shock
I knew canvases were awkward hard to carry
to travel with poems is only paper and pen
paint your paintings inspiring I write poems
I will not soul carry paint those paintings
poem by Terence George Craddock

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The First Line Is Heard From Somewhere Else
The first line is heard from somewhere else
The second line builds on it
And the third and those after
Until another stanza begins
That says in an easier and more focused way
What the first stanza struggled for-
The poem ends when it ends
Not knowing always if it has ended-
For the poem must be rewritten line by line once again
And perhaps too within it it will fail in indecision
As the end often does.
The last line is heard from all the other lines
But sometimes I hear too much
And sometimes not enough
And often I do not know
If it is right
But there are times
When the last line brings all the other lines together
And the end is the one end there should be.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Squashing force (Diminished hexaverse poetry)
(A poem containing stanzas of 5 lines, then 4 lines, then 3 lines, then 2 lines, ending with one word. The syllables in each stanza correspond to the number of lines, i.e.5 in each line in the first stanza,4 in the second stanza and so on. This form may contain more than five stanzas.)
Caught in illusion
Left in agony
Being badly hurt
Victim of terror
With contorted face
Depredated
Walls closing in
Screams of anguish
Desperate howls
Squashing force
Frozen tears
Twisting thoughts
Nightmares
Bleeding
Death
poem by Marieta Maglas

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The Poem About The Poem About The Poem
THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM
The poem about the poem about the poem
Written in dream
And forgotten in sleep
Comes back to me slowly now
As if it had been away on a long long journey
And is reluctant to come home-
I write it
But it really writes me
And when I try to make sense of what it means
It tells me its ambiguities
Are more important and interesting
Than my clarity-
The poem about the poem about the poem
Written now
May not be a poem about a poem about a poem at all
But may merely be my own playing with words
Which take the place in my life
Of really living-
A poem about a poem about a poem?
Surely this is a mysterious thing
If it exists at all.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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There Was A Poem Long Ago
THERE WAS A POEM LONG AGO
There was a poem long ago
A poem of youth and hope
Now there are other poems
Poems of age and sorrow.
There was a poem once
Of love – and happiness in love
Now there is a poem of lovelessness
And sadness.
There was a poem once
Of the long and distant open road
Now there is a poem of the dead end.
There was a poem once
That believed in Poetry
Now there is a poem that knows
Even the most beautiful worlds of words
End in dust
There was a poem once – long ago.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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A Poem Is Just A Poem
a poem is just a poem and if it is just a poem
it must be just a poem just like another poem
a poem is nothing but just a poem otherwise
it cannot be my poem; it may speak about
anything, or something, or about everything,
but my poem is just a poem just like anybody's
poem, which is just but a poem, like any other
poem, for a poem to be a poem it must just be
a poem: it has nothing to do with my love, and death
my life, or bliss, but as i have told you, once, twice
thrice, eat some rice, and be that wise, a poem is
just a poem, just like your poem. Why do you insist
on asking, what is happening to me? I am not a
poem, for i am but just the composer of the poem,
need i tell you again, that a poem is just a poem?
just like any other poem, which is just a poem
it is just a voice in my head that i have heard
someone comes and speaks and i listen so
this poem is not actually my poem but the poem
of someone else's: theirs not mine, from a mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Snow Wolf
Distinctive markings on his coat
Disguise the snow wolf well,
As if the snow had kissed his throat
So that we couldn't tell...
Yet close up through binoculars,
We see that canine face
And suddenly our memory jars
With warnings we can trace...
This is no gentle friend of Man,
In whom we'd grant our trust,
But rather one we'd choose to ban,
Because we simply must...
Each creature that survives on Earth
Has something new to say...
And wildlife paintings prove their worth
Each time we gaze their way...
He's not a trophy that I'd choose
To grace my hearth and home,
Yet at a painting I'd peruse,
Just like I'd read a poem...
We know he can be terrible
And frightening, night or day...
Yet isn't he quite beautiful?
Majestic in a way...
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2010.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Snow Wolf'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale

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The Best Poem In The World
The best poem in the world
will never be read
when everyone is writing
The best song in the world
will never be heard
when everyone is singing
The best painting in the world
will never be seen
when everyone is painting
The best performance in the world
will never be witnessed
when everyone is acting
However a world where the best poem
is burried in a stack of poems
the best song drowned out
by a million voices
the best painting lost in a gallery
streatching out as far as the eye can see
And the best preformance
competing with limitless preformances
will not be sacrificed
for an artless world
poem by Svanhildur Njálsdóttir

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To My Youngest Son
I wish I could write a finest piece
A poem that will rise and be the best
The one will endure in time like a total bliss
So happiness is mine when I come to rest
But unluckily I don’t have the finest words
And to the brightest idea my brain couldn’t work
So this would be forever a simple dream
My strongest foe I could never ever win
In that poem I would like to say
That a sweetest smile on your face
Causes so much joy in my life
Just like a sun glimpsing through a cloud
Brings sunshine to a flower bud
And in the next stanza I will state
That really I love your little hands
‘Cause they wipe away my tears and fears
Just like a summer breeze to an old tree
Blows away its driest leaves
And before my poem ends
I will tell the world about your tiny voice
How it soothes my sorrows and pain
Just like an abundant rain
Quenches even the desert soil
And in my last stanza I will convey
That your tender kisses on my cheek
Reminds me the fulfillment of my dream
Just like this poem I would like to end
Even this is not so fine, its thought is what I meant
poem by Rose de Ramar

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This Poem
THIS POEM
This poem
This first poem
This last poem
This poem that invented Poetry
This one and only one poem
This fictional poem
This ideal poem
This perfect poem
This would – be holy poem
This unreal poem
This poem which is not a poem
This poem which is the essence of all poetry
This poem
And that poem
And my poem
And your poem
And all poems
Poem poem poem poem poem
This poem
Mine and yours
This one small poem of so so many
And not such a good poem at all.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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The Poem About The Poem
The poem about the poem
And what is a poem?
And what is a poet?
And will the poem
Save me?
Help you?
And is writing the poem
The best I can do?
Or is it only words and more words?
Is the poem about the poem
For the poet only?
Or for each one reading and speaking and hearing it?
The poem about the poem
On this sunny spring Jerusalem morning
Peace and happiness in me -
The poem about the poem
For now.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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