A Poem's Ne'er Finished
A Poem’s never finished
tis just entirely begun
If you’ve gone back and looked
To see just what it is that you’ve done
Ne’er a piece has been written
that couldn’t use a wee fix
A more profound phrase
To throw in the mix
Sometime it’s the inflection
Oft times it’s the prose
That could use some correction
A tiny tweak of it’s nose
Perchance an error, a bit of imperfect elocution
A slight awkward feel, now felt in the flow
Where before one saw only, eloquent execution
Needed changes, upon reflection, begin to show
Ne’er a piece is writ to perfection
When put the first time to submission
Tis only on rereading and a wee bit of reflection
That the betterments pop into one’s vision
Aye, it’s true, to like some, over the others
To think tis a fine job you’ve done
But let me suggest, my poetic sisters and brothers
That a poem’s ne’er finished…tis just entirely begun
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Do Not Feel Very Poetic Today
I do not feel very poetic today-
And now I make that feeling the ‘subject’ of a poem-
Once Poetry seemed to be confined
To certain more sublime subjects -
But in our time
When every Form seems to expand to take into itself its opposite
Poetry makes itself of the non- poetic also -
There is no subject apparently
Which is non- poetic
Once a poem is written about it-
I do not feel very poetic today
And these plain and unbeautiful lines
This awkward presentation
Is what I am capable of
Poem or not,
I have written it now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This is a poem....
This isn't a poem of one direction,
This is a poem about perfection.
This isn't a poem about who won the election,
This is a poem about correction.
This isn't a poem of getting it right,
This is a poem of standing up to fight.
This isn't a poem of being lost like a kite,
This is a poem about trying to find the light.
This isn't a poem of running tears,
This is a poem about chasing your fears.
This isn't a poem of love and hate,
This is a poem of destiny and fate.
This isn't a poem of the end,
This is a poem of a heart unable to mend.
This isn't a poem of cruilty and pain,
This is a poem of a thng i need to gain.
This isn't a poem of shame,
This is a poem of fame.
Thsi isn't a poem of the life i let loose,
THIS IS A POEM OF THE TRUTH.
poem by Tammie LilAimo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem Versus Prose
You do not like this poem
And I do not like your prose
Enough with your predicates
And your subjects
In this poem you will find
No commas and semicolons
This poem
Is armed with rhythms
Stanzas and shifts
This poem has no end
There are no colons
In this poem
Your prose is replete with nuances
This poem echoes
The plight of the oppressed
And dispossessed
In your prose I find parentheses
This poem speaks of life
Your prose can be edited
Cut this poem and it bleeds
You do not like this poem
And I do not like your prose
Prose has pauses and hyphens
Prose comes to a stop
This poem plugs images
Even in your head
Prose deals with fiction
And nonfiction
This poem can be heard
It can be felt
It speaks of hunger
Of hopelessness
Homelessness
It speaks of a bitter reality
You do not like this poem
poem by Buxton Shippy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Defeating...That Beast
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
Think about the distance you've come,
Defeating...the beast.
Think about your decision not to run,
Away...from the beast.
Think about those knees on the ground,
Weeping for the beast.
Think about the dirt you ate,
Fed...by the beast.
Think about celebrating...
Those days ahead awaiting!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
No longer the martyr,
Defeating...that beast.
Get up...and strut about.
You've defeated...that beast.
Let those words come out of your mouth,
'I've defeated...that beast! '
Let the people see and believe it,
You've defeated...that beast.
Whoop...and hollar about,
'I've defeated...and done feeding it!
That beast is outta my house.'
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
More than a piece of cake!
Defeating...that beast.
Gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
Much more than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
But gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
More than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
Gone and eliminated.
Defeating...that beast.
Much more than a piece of cake.
Defeating...that beast.
But gone and eliminated.
That beatened up beast to beat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take a word and wrap a poem around it
Take a word and…
Wrap a poem around it
Take a precious phrase
And weave it within
Take profound prose
And allow it to abound in it
Take pride in what you’ve written
And what you’ve written…Will be read
again and again
What better legacy could one leave
Than words that last forever
Just Take a word
and wrap a poem around
And you’ll be forgotten….
never
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Will The Poem Written Today/ Read Well Tomorrow?
WILL THE POEM WRITTEN TODAY/ READ WELL TOMORROW?
Will the poem written today
Read well tomorrow?
Will what seems so right now
Last beyond the time of its being said?
Or am I a poet of the present moment only
Who in the saying believes in what is said
And who fails in the long – term reflection?
What will remain of all my ‘presents’
And all those times of writing
And feeling it is true?
Years from now
Long after I will be able to read any poem
Will these lines mean anything
To anyone?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The poem that got away
I started a poem with a serious intent…
but who would ever guess the mess, and where that poem went?
I’d barely writ a line so fine, when the poem turned to me,
looked me in the eye and ear, and laughed demonic-lee,
pranced around me, singing, boo! you can’t catch me!
ain’t no rules nor grammar for the boldheart and the free!
race you round the chocabloc, poetic chairbound fatty!
you’re just like every pompous poet, thinking always that he
can control a poem with a life that’s its own!
tries to rhyme each couplet up, as if lines were circus clones…
tries to measure poems by some rules about their feet, or
wants to match my singing lines to some archaic meter…
’cause I’m a poem!
I’ve got my own life!
I want to dance around the streets,
I want to join a band!
I’ve got so much to tell you,
I want to lift your heart…
I want to make you weepy too,
If that’s the way I feel..
I want to talk to children,
or to live in fantasy;
I want to feel much bolder
than this sillybilly world,
quick and slick and fancy-free;
and sail past time and space;
or wonder what it could be like
before the world began…
I want to shuffle words around,
like books upon a shelf;
I want to be all bold and free –
I want to be – myself!
So boo to all your metered rhymes,
you faded, jaded poet…
poems are the masters now…
it’s much more fun,
it’s just begun…and
it’s time for you to know it! …
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Should Not Be Written-When One Is Waiting For A Bus
A POEM SHOULD NOT BE WRITTEN-WHEN ONE IS WAITING FOR A BUS
A poem should not be written
When one is waiting for a bus
And simply trying to pass the time.
It should be written in solitude
After deep reflection
Ripeness as all
The falling fruit-
But this poem
Knows no ‘should’-
Knows only the long desperation
Of the happy holiday day-
Writing the words down quietly-
As if anything and everything I have to say
Is really
The poem I have religiously long waited for.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Feel
I gave you everything all I could give
It might not have been the life you thought youd live
I know it feels good to have you by my side
Even though I know you could just break my heart wide
I just have to ask you, one more time...
Did I make you feel like number one?
Did I help you see like stars and the sun?
Did I make you feel like number one?
Did I make you feel like lifes just begun?
Its like a puzzle, a piece that just fit
You never really needed to look for it
In your eyes I see my future and my past
I never really thought that we would last
I just have to ask you, one more time...
Did I make you feel like number one?
Did I help you see like stars and the sun?
Did I make you feel like number one?
Did I make you feel like lifes just begun?
We have seen all the good times and the bad
Waitin' for the next part we never had
To the highest mountain, yeah, I would climb
I just have to ask you, one more time
Did I make you feel like number one?
Did I make you see like stars and the sun?
Did I make you feel like number one?
Did I make you feel like lifes just begun?
Did I make you feel like number one?
Did I help you see like stars and the sun?
Did I make you feel like number one?
Did I make you feel like lifes just begun?
song performed by by Zug Izland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Many Errands
TOO MANY ERRANDS
Too many errands
No time for a poem.
A Poem takes time.
Amichai wrote
Returned years later
To perfect.
Rilke waited in silence for years
Until the ripened fruit dropped.
Goethe finished only at the end of his long life
What he had begun at the beginning.
A poem takes time.
Perhaps for some of us
Even a lifetime will not be enough.
As I now desperate
At the end of a long distracted day
Hurry these lines down.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Which Makes No Reference To Poetry
A POEM WHICH MAKES NO REFERENCE TO POETRY
A poem which makes no reference to poetry
And does not wonder who and what the poet is-
A poem that makes meanings of life outside the world of its own self- reflection-
A poem that is what life is
In some far and different way-
That poem
Waiting elsewhere
Written by someone else
So great in its beauty
And so powerful in its light
That poem written by someone else
About something I know nothing about
In a way I never dreamed or imagined
That poem is not written by me
And never will be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem I Am Writing Now
The poem I am writing now
does not know if it will be finished
it does not even know if it will be a poem -
it is slowly appearing line by line
and making its own meaning on the page-
Is it worth anything?
will anyone care?
I don't know -
The poem I am writing now
is just these lines
and these lines like all lines
are only small words
in a vast universe
that has long lived
and will probably longer live
without them.
Why then write these words now?
The poem I am writing now is saying,
'I am here now'.
But why should this mean anything to anyone else?
The poem I have written here
is not the poem I would have posted here
It is only the poem I am finishing now
a poem without great love or belief in itself.
The poem I am writing now
is written.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Is A Cluster Bomb
A poem assemble ideas,
Concentrates experience
Await its time, place
For its own release
A Poem is a cluster bomb
A Poem explodes
Particle by particle
Projectile by projectile
Piece by piece,
Varying impact on the way
A poem is a cluster bomb
Out of a poem come wails
Out of a poem come hails
Out of a poem comes repair
Out of a poem comes despair
A Poem is a cluster bomb
It spreads in ripples
It travels like a storm
It is fashioned in riddles
It can pour painful scorn
A poem is a cluster bomb!
Friday,17th July,2009
Liverpool, UK
poem by Isaac Maliya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Are My Poems Finished/ And I Finished With Them?
ARE MY POEMS FINISHED/ AND I FINISHED WITH THEM?
Are my poems finished
And I finished with them?
Each day has a beauty of its own
Light, wind, trees, colors, flowers.
All I see
The cracks in the grey pavement before me.
The cool cool wind at my back
The prayer ahead.
Even this poem is not properly finished
And I a fool racing and rushing
Through another
Again and again and again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vanity's Reflection
The mirror that I always pass
I know is just a piece of glass
that holds a reflection I see.
Is that a just a reflection of me?
Or rather is it just the one
that hates the rain and loves the sun?
I must cover it with a blackened drape
so I can't see my earthly shape.
I must forget it is there all the while
to catch the frown or the smile.
For the imperfections that are mine
are really only an outward sign.
I should not depend on a piece of glass
to hold the truth to my impasse.
I'm a prisoner only in my mind
and I am trying hard to find
my way in this world that feels like home
besides my song and besides my poem.
'Mirror, mirror on the wall
who's the fairest of them all?
I know it certainly isn't me
for all you hold is vanity.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When You Read This Poem
when you read this poem
silently like a prayer written
on the wall
of an ancient structure
and then when you pause
upon a word and begin
to ponder
like ' what is this poem really
trying to say? '
or ' does this poem have in some
way something to inform me
or touch me
or simply waste my time? '
rest assured this poem has
made you phrase some questions
not about you
or about me alone but
whether you believe it or not
this poem has become
a bridge between us
taking the shape
of a rainbow between two islands
and in a moment before you
begin to figure it out
or even know it
it is gone like a sigh passing you by
without any significance
and not worth remembering
but once
after you have read till the end
once there was this poem
and it seems to have no meaning at all
except a task
a journey that you have taken
arriving at nowhere
and giving you the essence of nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Piece Of You
Im just trying to live this life of mine
The more I look, the more Im blind
And all I ask for is piece of mind
And all I want is a piece of you
Well I lost my way today
Back home from work
The snow fell like dust
I felt like dirt
Happens everytime I start to search
For that long lost piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
It seems the last time I was sure
Of anything
I sold my heart
I wore your ring
But now, the queen has lost her king
All I want is a piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
A piece of you
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Lovers Box
My lovers charms
Are in a box
Beneath my bed
And piece by piece
Ill cherish them
Until the end
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven
They burn my hands
Scar my face
And blind my eyes
Ill steal your breath
And throw away
What I despise
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven
Between these walls
And darkened halls
Ive done my time
If I should die
Before I wake
Then youll know why
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven, piece by piece
Send me an angel to love, piece by piece
I need to feel a little piece of heaven, piece by piece
Send me an angel to love, piece by piece
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven, piece by piece
Piece by piece
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
song performed by by Garbage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wind Of The Human Spirit...
i climbed the mountain with Moses,
and watched in silent awe.
i lay in the well with Joseph,
as they tore my coat of many colors to shreds.
i stood on the rooftop with David,
watching Bathsheba bathe...
i walked to Gethsemene,
and wiped the tears from Jesus' face.
and when each had finished their task,
mine had just begun.
i sat under the tree with Buddha,
the image of my son burning my eyes.
and lost myself in the darkness,
to find my heart in the dawn.
i rode away with Lao-Tzu,
leaving words written on the wind.
i died with the last buffalo,
while the Great Spirit wept.
and when each had finished their task,
mine had just begun.
i was there the day the earth was formed,
i seperated the water from the land.
i crawled forth from the ocean,
without limbs or even a map.
i discovered fire in the cave,
and etched drawings on the wall...
and when each had finished their task,
mine had just begun....
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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