I thought I'd begin by reading a poem by Shakespeare, but then I thought, why should I? He never reads any of mine.
quote by Spike Milligan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Never Thought Of This Poem
I never thought of this poem
It strolled into me, vividly
Forcing and obliging me
It urged me on despite resistance
I never thought of this poem
I never thought of this poem
It possessed and subdued me
It never left me alone, in peace
I could no longer resist its force
I never thought of this poem
I never thought of this poem
I gave in to it, to its wishes
I wrote it, I read it
It came out of me, liberating me
I never thought of this poem!
Huyton, Liverpool, UK
Wednesday,22nd April,2009
poem by Isaac Maliya
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I Thought To Begin The Day With A Poem
I THOUGHT TO BEGIN THE DAY WITH A POEM
I thought to begin the day with a poem
But inside myself I hear only my own slow emptiness
Word by word I try to hear
And there is some small motion now
But still
A real poem
A poem of beauty
A poem of light
A poem of love
A poem that makes the dreamer long to dream-
And the lover long to love-
A poem that moves-
Well it is very very dark outside
And the world straining to give
Small rain to a dry land
Seems to say,
‘There may be a poem today
But it is not the poem you dream
Not the poem others will love
As you have loved
True poetry.’
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Infectious Thought
I
A poem like a thought
Ingratiates with time
When we write it's wrought
Into our rhyme
II
What is thought once
Is thought forever
Whether intellect it hunts
Or it's dull or clever
III
An ancient poem
And another's thought
We may call our own
So think we aught
IV
What binds us to those
We never knew
Is a poem or a prose
A thought our minds too
V
In this poem I
Think like me too
As I sit and think
only of you
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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About thought
Ignorant we are
About our thought
Our thought cheated us.
Our thought makes poem
And the poem keep intact.
We are all in our poem
And our poem paint us sky
And sky is within.
Forgetting everything
Poem is kept for use
And we are used by poem
Day and night.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Seeking everything
Seeking everything
~
A life, a world so often sought
Without a picture of what it may be
A world, a phrase somewhere picked up
In a poem, a book or a song
To what it reads we all think different
And interpretation becomes the thought
The thought becomes the dream
A lavish fantasy so well looked upon
That we are all lost in what we seek
Blind to the ambition it brings
Blind to the fantasy of which it reads
We take each word by our own demands
Pluck them like flowers to the vase
That all we see is a thing of beauty
The first picture of a new world
Where the new life does await
And however it may or may not look
It remains but a thought and what we find
Is that which we seek to fulfil our lives
poem by Matthew Holloway
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My thought my poem
My thought my poem
Not classical.
My thought my poem
Is mine and
It is yours and
It is scientific
It is pragmatic
It is realistic
and it is
Purely practical.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The teaser
So you are alone?
What now, what about your being alone?
You write a poem about it?
Let me see and read it.
(reads like reading an
electric bill for January)
there is nothing here,
everyone feels like you do
except that you write about
it, and you call yourself a poet,
I don’t think it will make a difference
Do you drink san mig beer?
Do you smoke 2 packs of Marlboro
A day? You don’t? Why not try it?
Let me see your choice of words,
(reads the poem again)
There is nothing in here that
Makes you different from the rest
Of us, smokers and drinkers and
Gamblers. What makes you think
You are not like us? Huh?
(crumples the paper where the
poem is written and leaves,
he picks it up and smoothens it
folds it like his blanket and slides
it in his pocket like a paycheck)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Favourite Poem!
On the first reading, I realised
I wasn't actually, truthfully
Savouring the phrases.
I tried a second time,
Reciting it at half speed,
Emphasising each word.
I paused here and there,
Letting each thought glide...
The poetry becoming precious.
I printed the verses one-by-one,
Choosing a fabulous font,
Calligraphy enhancing them well.
I went out shopping for a frame,
This poem deserved something noble,
Outstanding and ornate...
Oh, what pains I took at home,
Fitting that poem in that frame...
There, it's done, hung upon the wall.
Above the fireplace, for all to see...
To change everyone who reads it,
Simply because it's that good...
poem by Denis Martindale
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(Better) Done Than Said
(better) done than said
the sounds between the lines
of the words i speak
reminds me of the lines
i spoke in thought and trials
and the lines
within the sounds of spoken word
touched mine heart
mine dreadlocks started skanking in joy
of the music in mine thought
but til done, i thought
next to mine were time and rhythm
for less than never it were missing
the sense to do than say
and mine legs kept me in transit
mine hands touched to pick a way
whence my eyes long seen
besides, talk were amass
done; far less
than which that caught mine
til done, i do and did
done than said
the inner mine person done me
a thought to catch mine power
and grab to proceed a synergy of our
own belief to mine self and stronger
than the sounds behind the lines
of the words i speak
but from the deep lines
of the metaphor, line by talk
with mine hands holding that thought
to keep it moving and done
long before said, as done
opn01112012/0849
poem: (better) done than said
'roots of mine tree' book no.12 of 2012
november 2012
ntema's unique poetry
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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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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Thought
Thought, I love thought.
But not the juggling and twisting of already existent ideas
I despise that self-important game.
Thought is the welling up of unknown life into consciousness,
Thought is the testing of statements on the touchstone of consciousness,
Thought is gazing onto the face of life, and reading what can be read,
Thought is pondering over experience, and coming to conclusion.
Thought is not a trick, or an exercise, or a set of dodges,
Thought is a man in his wholeness, wholly attending.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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A Poem
i like to read your poem
and i like to say it is a poem
there is a difference
of course
between the two statements
i like to read
it is your poem but i may
after reading
that
saying that i am honest though
and can distinguish a poem
from one that is not a poem
that your poem is one that i only
like to read
and may
say that it is not your poem
but it is yours you are sure of that
but what i am saying is that
i am reading your poem
but i feel that it is not
a poem after all
i can say one when i read one
so i just say i like reading your poem
which could not really be a poem
not even prose
i just like it
but it is not anything about what
i feel i like it to be
a poem or prose
i am reading it, it isn't
like this one for instance
you know that
now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Poem Of All The Places I Have Never Been
THE POEM OF ALL THE PLACES I HAVE NEVER BEEN
The poem of all the places I have never been
The poem of all the dreams I have not seen
The poem of others poems written in lines I have never imagined
The poem of the infinite – what-is- not and ‘what- will- never- be
The poem of seas and suns and sounds and Shakespeare’s sonnets,
The poem of words and only words whose sounds do not mean what we feel
The poem of all I would not and cannot write
The poem that is not and never will be in me
The poem I do not write
The poem I am not
The poem lost
The poem which itself is not a poem
The poem of the last contradiction and the first
The poem beyond the poem hidden within the poem
The poem which will never be a poem
The poem which is not
The poem I cannot dream.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where You End
Are beyond your control
I love you and you're beautiful
You write your own songs
But if the right part is leaving
Turned out to be wrong
If I could kiss you now
I'd kiss you now again and again
I don't know where I begin
And where you end
Thought I fell in love the other day
With an old friend of mine
I was running kisses
Down every inch of the spine
We had the roof down
The sun came shining in
The black fact is...
that I was thinking of you
If I could kiss you now
I'd kiss you now again and again
I don't know where I begin
And where you End
I slept in the sun the other day
I thought I was fine
Everything seemed perfect
Until I had you on my mind
I tried to love you
I did all that I could
I wish that the bad now
And finally turned into good
If I could kiss you now
I'd kiss you now again and again
I don't know where I begin
And where you End
If I could kiss you now..
If I could kiss you now..
If I could kiss you now..
Oh where you end,
Is where I begin.
Oh where you end
Oh where you end
Oh where you end
song performed by by Moby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was reading the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything.
quote by Steven Wright
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Complimented My Poem And I Did Not Have The Consideration To Read Yours
YOU COMPLIMENTED MY POEM AND I DID NOT HAVE THE CONSIDERATION TO READS YOURS
You complimented my poem and I did not have the consideration to read yours
Now I apologize to you without mentioning your name
Or reading your poem-
A weak apology
Meant to get me off the hook-
Still I know how lonely it is to write and write
And not hear the words you want to hear in reply
Forgive me
Perhaps I will read your poem or poems one day-
But I cannot promise.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Stifle not the reader
Reading is an art,
reading is a tool.
Those who think it dumb,
must be such a fool.
Reading is enjoyment,
reading is a blast.
Reading is a separate entity
from the future and the past.
Reading is done in present,
though written in a tense.
Reading is about life,
in surprise or suspense.
Reading is a place of joy,
full of hope and song,
Reading is a place I feel
that I truly do belong.
A trapdoor to a fantasy,
A world thought lost to us,
Reading is a place of wonder,
a place that we can trust.
Why read about reality,
when I can delve into magic.
Why stifle my own happiness,
with scenarios so tragic.
Stifle not the reader,
for it is their choice alone.
Reading is an outlet,
for hearts that turned to stone.
A Poet's Blues
A poet
Is having a hard time
To day
While he is writing his poem
He writes something
Om his computer
And after he finishes it he reads it
And it doesn't seem good enought for him
So he errases it
And he writes his poem again on his computer
When he is finished with his poem
He reads his poem
And he is not happy with it still
So he errases it again
And then he writes it again on his compute
Now his poem is finally making sense
And all he needs to do is to elaborate his poem
Now it it is getting late for the poet
Ans he needs a break from writing
So he goes to sleep right now
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Before I Met You
(charles l. seitz, joe lewis, elmer rader)
Well I thought I had seen good looking men in my time
That was before I met you
And I never saw one that I wanted for mine
But that was before I met you
Chorus:
Well I thought I was swinging the world by the tail
I thought I could never be blue
I thought Id been kissed
And I thought Id been loved
But that was before I met you
Well I wanted to ramble and always be free
That was before I met you
And I said that nobody could ever hold me
But that was before I met you
Repeat chorus
I thought Id been kissed
And I thought Id been loved
But that was before I met you
Darling that was before I met you
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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