Through A Poem

I meant you through a poem.
And you are now all thats on my mind.
Waitng in hopes for a response.
Somebody so like me its scary.
With words we must always be weary.

I don't know how far this will go.
But no matter it's nice to have another friend.
So close that words are not really needed.
But they first take precedence as a foundation trust.

Honesty tied on the end of this rope.
I'm hooked like a junky.
And I never can get enough.
Will you be the one?
And to think I meant through a poem.
All to through a poem.

And this I write for you as if its my last.
So personal, so quick.
I think I'm going lose it.
Your not online tonight.
Don't make me come down and get you.
The search for the truth.

I meant you through a poem.
And you are now all thats on my mind.
Waitng in hopes for a response.
Somebody so like me its scary.
With words we must always be weary.

I don't know how far this will go.
But no matter it's nice to have another friend.
So close that words are not really needed.
But they first take precedence as a foundation trust.

How can I be falling for this ink.
Blotted and jotted down with a personality to bare.
Your such a spitfire.
An attitude that lights me on fire.
Makes me glow in ways I didn't even know.

What is the fatal attration?
A draw to a satisfaction.
Am I really that desperate or is their something so true in what you write.
Their is only one way to find out.
Risk is life.
And I shall live it tonight.

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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.

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Scribbler's Stymie

Pen and paper in sight
I've got no poem to write

Staying up all night
I've got no poem to write

Although my mind is bright
I've got no poem to write

It's windy out tonight, should I go fly a kite?
I've got no poem to write

My ceiling, it is white
I've got no poem to write

It's 4: 59! Five, but not quite
I've got no poem to write

In your arms I'd feel so light
I've got no poem to write

I've had no sleep tonight
I've got no poem to write

Will you just hold me tight?
I've got no poem to write

Outside it's almost light
I've got no poem to write

It's late, off goes my light
I've got no poem to write

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A poem for you...

I write a poem for you today,
to get a place in your heart for ever
A poem that could tell you my love for you
I write my poem with emotion and affection
for you to understand my deep thoughts for you
A poem to love and a poem to understand its soul
A poem to enjoy and a poem to understand its happiness
A poem to think and a poem to understand its way of life
A poem to learn and a poem to understand its content
A poem to sing and a poem to understand its melody
A poem to cry and a poem to understand its sorrow
There are poems I have written but this is specially for you
The poem could tell you how important you are for me
There are words comes out freely from my mind to write poem
but there are no words to find my love for you
Those words can not missed as I miss your love today
Let me have all those words put in to my heart and
say I love to write a love poem for you


Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka

Copyright ©2004 Ravi Sathasivam

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Only A Poem Can Save Me Tonight

ONLY A POEM CAN SAVE ME TONIGHT

Only a poem can save me tonight
The heat has been too much
Also the feeling of illness.
I cannot move my mind very much
But a few lines I can write.
Are they a poem?
Is this a poem?
Long ago I began to hear the words which came from within me
As poetry.
They had a real music of their own
Even now I suppose I can hear them
I write to make my life meaningful
Is this a poem?
The heat and the feeling of illness do not matter-
I am writing this down
As if it were Poetry.

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All Through The Night I Longed For A Poem

ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT I LONGED FOR A POEM

All through the night I longed for a poem
I could not write-
I waited to hear it inside
But I could not write it-
I needed a poem so much
And it did not come-
In the morning I sat down
And began to write-
The words came-
I felt I meant something again
As I write this now
Who I am returns to me.

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Do Not Post Your Poem Here

Do not post your poem here
Unless you've something worth a say!
You must not waste a space like this,
For space can waste away!

Do not post your poem here
With words which make no sense!
Be careful when you post it here
That you use the proper tense!

Do not post your poem here
Just to fill a space with words!
A poem should be well thought out,
Was it meant to be absurd?

Do not post your poem here
If in cliches you would write.
A poem should be fresh, yes sharp -
You'll know when it's just right!

Do not post your poem here
Just to see yourself in print.
You're wasting others time you know
With such, self centred stints!

I wil not post my poem here,
This one does not exist,
But did I tell you at the start
That I'm a nihilist?

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Let This One Poem Be About Me

Let this one poem be just about me
Let this one poem engulf all my beauty
Let this one poem define my soul
Let this one poem consume me whole
My soul was earth bound
And my heart lay in a place that it would never be found
Let this poem be what entangles my mind
Let this poem be where people will find
They will find that missing link
And this poem it will make them think
They will wonder how this girl came
They will wonder how I avoided fame
I didn’t write these words to please
I wrote these words to tease
My heart it’s the type that beckons for ease
And my taste will not accept the flavor of peas
Let this poem describe me in most simplest of ways
Let this poem show how I get through these days
And I know people will read this and say…
This girl she knew where heart lay…
Let this poem eat me whole
Let me entire heart bleed its luscious love into a broken bowl
My soul wanted only to be free
And this poem only pushed it back into me
I never will lose any part of my soul
Because then this world will swallow my inner being whole
Let this poem be what I hate
Let this poem describe with who I would mate
Let this thoughts become my ways
Let this poem be where I stray
Let this poem show how I lie
Let this poem describe how I will die
Yes I am human I cannot avoid death
Yes I am human I chose not to use meth
These words they dance upon this page
These words they have no age
These verses have lost all meaning
Because I revealed my demeaning
Let this poem describe what I deem right
Let this poem that I will always fight
My age floats through these words
And people will never understand why I want to be heard
Let this poem be only about me
Let this poem be what sets me free
And I know some day people will look at this and say…
This girl, this girl she knew exactly where her heart lay…

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Living the words

i pluck out all those gigantic
words in a dictionary with the wish
to write a high brow poem

it turns out a fruit i do not even know how to call
neither sweet, nor sour, nor a pearly shape
nor anything that you can find in this world
the final poem glaring at me like a stranger
one bumps into in a foreign town

all the words beg me for the reason
to grace my poem, they say they
are not even my friend for i know them not
that they have never interacted with me
and i have never caroused with them

they dont mind, they say, standing in
for the verses as new friends do for formality
but frankly tell me we are not yet in such spirit or
company as to perform a dynamic act

i reread the poem to find indeed they are mere words
friends that got thrown together without knowing
what to expect from each other

they bow out and the whole poem just got lost
in the wilderness of my mind

i seek those friends out anyway, to share a part of their life
so that i can if needed be, belt out a proper song with them
to impress the world, to throw the audience out of their seats

poem by John Tiong ChunghooReport problemRelated quotes
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Poetry Is Like A Beautiful Work Of Art

A poem has no write or
wrong,
How to write your poem
is up to you,
Visualize a perfect poem
That readers will love,
Adjust a poem as much as
you want,
Remember a poem is like
art,
You write it with meaning
and passion,
Add as much as your heart
desires,
Short or long it does not
matter,
Add a picture with your
poem,
Add a quote or a verse,
it is a poet's decision,
Always be proud of your poem,
Let the words flow when you
write,
A poem expresses a feeling,
thought and emotion,
Add a frame and hang it up
on a wall,
share your talents with the
world,
Poetry is like a beautiful
work of art.

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Words

Flowery words may tickle the ears; even delight the person who hears.
Flowery words are not what I choose, if you desire to just be amused.
For I am truly not a poet my friend, and poetry is not my ultimate end.
Poetry is simply my chosen venue, this to share God’s Truth with you.

The words of men who went before, these are the words I underscore.
They may not be the poet’s choice, but they echo that important voice,
That one who spoke words of Life, The Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Words echoed today for you and I, and this long after our Savior died.

Words of Truth are what I impart, hoping to comfort or change a heart.
Changing souls one heart at a time, for this is Christ’s humble design.
His words are not meant to enthrall, but be a hope and comfort for all.
The words not meant to entertain, but address the issue of sin’s stain.

I will continue to write as I’m moved, for friend I have nothing to prove.
And friend you have nothing to lose, as it is His Truth that you choose.
His words of Truth are tried and true, the words that I share with you.
My friend, the end of each poem, for me, is one page closer to home.

It is simply a poem at the start, but then The Spirit moves in my heart,
And The Spirit’s words fill my pen, with The Savior’s hope for all men.
As I echo all these men of the past, it is a Hope that will eternally last.
When I enter my heavenly abode, a place above I’ll forever call Home.

(Copyright ©03/2006)

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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.

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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.

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If I Lose The Poem

IF I LOSE THE POEM

If I lose the Poem
I will lose myself-
Words will be too difficult for me
I will wander in the world useless -

True, one day I will not be.
But for now
And for as long as possible
I need the Poem.

If I lose the Poem
I will cease to be
And all the Poetry that has been in me
Will also seem lost.

I waver and wonder
As I write
These plain and simple words.

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The Poem Was Destroyed By Its Own Words

The poem was destroyed by its own words
And could not be written-

The words were not good enough
The words were not exact enough -

The poem nonetheless wanted to be
It waited in longing for other words-

Other words came
But they were not the poem either-

The poem it appeared
Was never to be -

The poem disappeared
Before it could be written

That poem forever is not
And in its place only these lines

Barely a poem at all.

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A Not a Poem Poem

A Not a Poem Poem

I will not write a poem
For I am not a poet
I cannot makes things rhyme
I’ve tried for quite some time
So will I write a poem?
NO!

I can’t write poetry
I’ve tried to all my life
Once, I tried to write a poem
About a husband and his wife
It sounded really silly
So I crumbled it up into a ball
That’s why I decided
That I couldn’t write poetry at all
Am I gonna write a poem?
NO!

Well, I’ll try to write a poem
But it will be really bad
It will be absolutely lousy
It will be completely horrible
It won’t be up to snuff
People will say, “Who wrote this stuff? ”
Will my poem be good?
NO!

Can I write a poem?
NO!

Will I write a poem?
NO!

Well, what do you know! ? !
I wrote a poem!
And it’s a pretty good poem, too!
I guess I can write poetry if I try
The next time I’m asked to write a poem,
Will I say no?
NO!

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I'll Write You A Poem

I’ll write you a poem
Which will by the day remind you
That I’m still lurking around
As a good friend who’s always true

I’ll write you a poem
About friendships that fickle
About friends like fiends
So that you’ll remember I
With radiance like a star up in the sky

I’ll write you a poem
Of my longings and want
Which by the day makes me hurt
Bleeding black blood
Shedding tearless tears
How inside they flow
Because we’ve refused to water
What earlier we had sown

I’ll write you a poem
That will forever remind you
That as you are needed elsewhere
I need you too

But now please, allow me
To sip from my cup of coffee

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The power of words

Sometimes when you had
an idea for a poem
you didn’t jot it down
and let it be
to fade away into the naught
as if it really didn’t matter
or your words had lost their power

or was there a hidden fear,
something that you didn’t
want to talk about
or something that you didn’t
want to appear,
something that you were afraid
would kill your luck
or disturb your thoughts?

When we spoke at times
you would sarcastically say
go and write a poem about it
and I wonder if you really
didn’t care about writing
or just not about me
or was it jealousy?

Sometimes when the words
of a great poem came to me
you would demand that I immediately
do something for you
to proof my love
and not give me the opportunity
to capture the sacred words.

Yet, as time went by
and I had to leave
the words came back to you
and great verses appeared
and you said that I could string out
poems to the nth power
and wanted me
to write great messages as well
and I was afraid that card like lines
would kill the magic of words in me.

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I don't Write a Poem

I don't write a poem
but sprinkle my heart
on white papers.

I don't write a poem
but kiss flaming words
on the lips of volcano.

I don't write a poem
but croon a lullaby
for drizzling lids.

I don't write a poem
the poem writes me
and sets me free
from the life engulfed
by mirages.
@@@

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I will write a poem that will say the truth

This poem I will write and it will tell the truth
The candid truth, the whole candid truth and nothing
But the miserable truth
And this will hurt you and all of you who consider me a friend
The words are carefully chosen and the
Lines screened with so much introspection
This poem will tell you who you really are
No holds bar, no second thoughts
No consideration at all that you may hate me
I, who want, always to be loved and be popular
I am tired of lying and telling what is not in my mind,
I will now write the truth about you and the whole world,
This poem will hurt you and this world
And the whole world will be angry about me writing this poem,
This poem will bring you into harsh awakenings
And this will surely shake you and hurt you and you will never
Talk to me again and you will wish me ill and you will curse the day that I was born.
This poem will make you hate me forever but for one thing
I still have no courage to show it to you, perhaps later when I am
All ready to be despised, hated and finally discarded from your minds.

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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.

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