The Poet Prince
By day he wore a royal crown.
By night we wrote his poems down.
He wrote of justice, love and peace,
A future time when wars would cease.
Through vision, dream and prophecy
He wrote of wonders yet to be.
In time, his poems filled his room:
The left side joy, the right side gloom.
For life is both the sweet and sour,
And weakness till the time of power.
A prince must think such matters through,
To seek a sovereign point of view.
And so, while lesser mortals slept,
The prince, through poems, wisdom kept.
By day, by night he persevered
With revelations that appeared.
God said, 'Forget your crown of gold.
The world is ready to be told.'
The prince removed his crown that day
And as God's servant walked away...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Related quotes
The dress rehearsal
When the velvet curtain calls the dim lights came up
And he pushed ahead to the middle of the stage in the rotunda theatre.
He became the crown prince and the crown princess waited aside
with her new netting costume.
The happy audience clapped and whistled.
When the interval bell rang the prince went to the rest room for a make up.
'Hey! My naughty darling sleepwalker;
I couldn't sleep the whole night, please get ready to see the psychiatrist again in the morning.' His wife grumbled.
'Nobody knows that I was a crown prince once.' he muttered himself.
* By all means marry; If you get a good wife, you'll be happy; if you get a bad one, you'll become a philosopher.
-Socrates
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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In The Manner Of Borges I Write Poems In My Old Age
IN THE MANNER OF BORGES I WRITE POEMS IN MY OLD AGE
In the manner of Borges I write poems in my old age
And dream that they are not only imitations
Of poems written by others
When we all were young.
Instead I go on now in the darkness of the night
Because the fear of what will be
Is always so deep in me
It does not need Poetry or Happiness or any other Meaning
Outside itself.
We are small sands drifting on the edge of stars
Lesser beings of a time we will never know
All that we have done comes back to us over and over again
As if we never were
I don’t believe I will ever write Borges lines
He wrote them in his own imagined words
And I must in my own little life
Suffer to the end of time
All I have not been
And never will be.
God Who is Good
God of Love
You gave me so much
You did not have to give me Poetry also.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Amen
He walked like a prince
though a pauper he was born.
He looked like a prince
on each and every morn.
His eyes, they were dazzling
and shining like a crown.
His friends that were paupers
followed him around.
Worship was given him.
They bowed at his feet.
He told them to rise
and stand up to greet
the sun in the sky
that shone for them as well.
and never to be afraid
for that's a living hell.
He talked like a prince
and his words traveled far.
He spoke of the thing that
we're all made of.
He spoke of the wonders
of the creation of love.
And those that believed
were never the same.
They became princes just like He
and the paupers were filled with serenity.
Some got lost along the way
and forgot about the sun shining every day.
They fell by the wayside
and darkness stepped in,
followed by greed and the treachery of sin.
Still the prince became a KING.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I Waited Outside The World Of Wonder
I waited inside the world of wonder
The poems were coming to me night and day-
I knew I had a vocation at last
So I gave myself into it-
Year after year
For years I wrote poems
They came in and out of me
Like breathing
And I found them wherever I looked and walked
And took them home and wrote them down
And they became my song and my me and my life and my joy
And oh what a wonder it was to be simply to be
Writing them down-
And now writing this one down after so many years
I too still sing and wonder why God has been so good to me
And given me so much I simply love.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Fairytale
Once upon a time, there was a prince
Groomed, grand, and great than the younger prince
Like a fairy tale, a lovely maid!
A pariah! On mats with rats she laid
Like a fairy tale the prince and maid met
Surely, their hearts thundered aloud; I bet
But the young envied the elder so much
He snitched to the king the prince with no match
Wretched was the young, the king abstained him!
So, the younger raised his wit with grim
To an apple! The young thawed a bane,
For through it, the maiden he will gain!
The prince took the fruit and was ill and died!
King, queen, and maid mourned the prince side by side
Nearby, the younger was laughing so loud1
Flaunting his lunacy behind the crowd
Like a fairy tale, burial day's come
The day was dusk, bewailing, and calm
The grave blocked with florets, men, and bells
Day died, men mourned and death sings with bells
Like a fairy tale, the maid kissed the prince
But behold! He moved! Alive is the prince!
The day is glowing, rejoicing, and tense!
Truth spilled! King arrested the younger prince!
Truly wild is the manor! All rejoiced! From serf to the crown!
Like a fairy tale, there was a wedding! Happy night was clown!
Sweet kiss! Love filled the air with madrigal of a nightingale
And they live happily ever after-like a fairy tale!
poem by Mark Joseph Canoy
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What They Will Say
Some times, I wonder if I write for the future.
That may seem like a strange statement to make.
Forty-three years ago, I wrote a poem
that at the time no one wanted to know.
Now it is my best-loved poem
read by countless people around the world.
Thirty years ago, I wrote two poems
and each one won me an award,
but at the time I wrote them,
no one wanted to know.
All of which makes me wonder
if what I wrote in my yesteryears
that then none wanted to know.
Could they all be popular now?
Today I started collecting and retyping
short stories I wrote twenty years ago.
At the time, publishers and agents
didn’t want to know.
Now twenty year on
I am wondering what they will say.
24 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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Sonnet- To Emily Dickinson
A spinster, she remained all through her life,
And kept her poems unpublished but filed;
God was her Lover, Friend, ’midst all her strife;
She led a quiet life akin a child!
Her feelings river-like flowed to the sea;
She never let her passions form a lake;
Neither was she after name, fame, money;
She was a Poetess of U.S. make.
The Queen of wordy rhymes, she wrote and wrote;
Her poems could apply to future dates;
A Ship she was but wished to stay a boat!
On earth, she was ready for Heaven's gates.
Her volume of poetry was quite big!
Nevertheless, she never wore a wig!
7-4-2002
poem by John Celes
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Was It You Who Wrote Some Poems?
it happens in a crowd
or a party or a reunion
to be exact and short of
any dialogue
you ask,
was it you
who wrote some
poems?
and i say
yes
and i ask why?
and you say
oh i like every poem
there
and i ask
which ones?
the one about love
or passion
or compassion
or was it the poem
that hurts
and makes
one feel the
urge to kill oneself?
and you say
i like the
sad ones
those that
make me cry
and think
of my broken heart
and i say
i never wrote
sad poems
and you say
you swear
i have read
the sad ones
and i really cried
alone
and i say,
i never wrote
them
they write themselves
and i do not really cry anymore
and you say
really?
and i say: i am numb.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Brandon: Our Love Dog
You'll never be forgotton,
my dear pal of ours
many years ago of
poems you inspired
me to write.
Seven Happy years
you were with us,
so much tender
loving care we
gave to you.
Brandon you had special
magic about you,
can't explain, somehow
when I touched you,
all of my pain and sorrow
went away.
You were our love dog,
no doubt you were loved,
by all, as you also loved all.
So many bad things happened
to you on our walks, three
dog attacks, but once just me,
still have scar on my hand.
Remember the day, you were
hit by a car,
that really saved your life.
We took you to the
vet that night,
ex-rays showed a
pin from surgery in
your side, that had
been lodged, if not
removed you would
have died from
punture wounds,
the pin should have
been removed long
ago.
It was placed there
before we got you,
so one bad thing led
to a good thing.
You had a cat friend down
the street, that loved
you also, she would rub
against you with so
tender loving care.
Brandon our love dog
so many kisses you
gave us.
you used to dare
us to get your
biscuit, you would stare
at us, when we
tried to get
it you growled,
this went on
and on, till
finally you ate it.
Sometimes you would
go to hall closet
with your biscuit
I didn't know
where you were,
as I walked by
the closet you
would growl, it
was so funny.
Moths you loved
to chase, you
ate them so
many, even wrote
a poem called
the moth hound.
One very sad day,
in our life we
took you to the
vet for very
last time, you were so sick,
food you once loved,
you now refused,
pain you had all
through your frail
little body.
On Friday night,
June 13,1997 you
had such a hard
time breathing
you had to sleep
sitting up.
Seven happy years
you were with us,
so much tender
loving care you
had for us and we
for you.
On Saturday June 14,1997
while most Americans,
were remembering flag day,
we were saying
goodbye to our
true faithful friend.
Amy and I waited
in that fateful room
with you, saying our
last goodbyes to you.
The Vet entered the room,
asked us if we were
ready, are you ever ready
to say goodbye
to a love one.
Seven years with us,
but only 30 seconds and
you were gone.
We touched you and felt
life leaving your
beautiful little body.
Ten years later,
we still miss you
little guy and
love you very much,
our very own
love dog.
wrote 2-14-07
Do not read my poems…. [for YOU ]
Do not read my poems…
After I am dead
As a lament, a wail
An elegy, a requiem
Do not read my poems…
After I am gone
When no more I can
Hear your velvet voice.
Do not read my poems…
Alone without me
To comment along
And read with you
But, do read my poems
When I beside you lie
With my head resting
On your supporting arm
Listening to you read
In whisper, in kisses
In silence, in love
In sleep, in dream
Watching you feel
Every word I wrote
I’ll close my eyes - Love
Brush aside my hair
With your breathe
Which half veils my face
Sleepless fevered I wrote
Read me my poems
Now sing me a lullaby
Rock me to sleep
On your broad chest
Diving into your eyes
A thousand times
I am refreshed
By your smile
I’ll write on you a poem
Traced by my fingertips
To be etched in your heart
And burnt into your soul!
So, do not read my poems…
poem by Angelina Pandian
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I Forgot The Poem I Wrote Today
I FORGOT THE POEM I WROTE TODAY
I forgot the poem I wrote today
I forgot the poem I wrote yesterday
I have forgotten all my poems-
No one rereads my poems
I do not reread them-
They will all be forgotten-
O Poems O World-
Will we ever know
What God Remembers?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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George Crabbe Wrote Of
George Crabbe wrote of hardship and poverty and woe
In the England he lived in a long time ago
But perhaps his poems might be more popular today
Had he looked at life in a less truthful way.
George Crabbe wrote of children in dire poverty
The poor sad victims of Human cruelty
And the poems full of pathos and the poems full of truth
Of a poet who was blessed with the great gift of ruth.
He wrote of human cruelty to their own kind
A God in the soul of such a person you'll find
He did not write of mythological figures or monarch or squire
He wrote for the poor his type I do admire.
Of the poverty around him he was all too aware
But poets like George Crabbe they have always been rare
Though if you feel a bit down and a good laugh you do need
His poems lacking in Humor are not for you to read.
Of the poor souls of England George Crabbe did write
His poems not hard to understand or to read or recite
And though as a person and poet he was great
Such poets the masses never do celebrate.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Three Dog Night
Chuck Negron
who I did meet
is really sincere
and really sweet.
I told him I wrote
'Poems of
Inspiration
and Recovery'
People who
read them
can feel
better with discovery.
My poems have
words in them
like the word
“pray”.
These poems
where on
display
in Hazelden Ctr.
that very
same day.
Now he did
sign my book
writing to my
alias Suzae.
The book he
wrote is
“Three Dog Nightmare”.
describing
his life which
is almost like
one of Razel’s
“Frightmares”
It’s about
his drug
addiction
& his word
of hope,
for anyone
addicted to
or strung out on dope.
Now buy it on
Amazon or at
your local bookstore,
it’s worth every penny
and then some more.
Written on April 2nd 2011 by Christina Sunrise
www.christinasunrise.com www.purplepoems.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Eating A Bullet
Speaking to ghosts
Sitting next to the soldiers of the past.
Where did we go so wrong?
Why is it taking so long?
A new discovery.
A new dream.
Building something not as dull as it seems.
I wrote it all down in a letter.
Sent it in a red envelope.
That has been stained by these hands.
To quick to the conclusion.
Where did the time go.
Speaking to the ones I love most.
Telling them I did the best I could.
Knowing that it no longer even matters.
I'm of the wrong time and age.
A hippie at heart.
Loving the world as its being torn apart
Divide and conquer.
That is what I see today.
Playing all their silly games.
I will not par take.
I wrote it all down in a letter.
Sent it in a red envelope.
That has been stained by these hands.
To quick to the conclusion.
Where did the time go.
I want to take in all your pain.
I want to take in all your hate.
I want to take in all your anger.
Just let me eat all this suffering in one gulp.
Swallow it all down.
Hold it deep inside.
And just maybe I can make it to the other side.
A place where I can rest my head
Without worrying about all of you.
And what you must be going through.
I wrote it all down in a letter.
Sent it in a red envelope.
That has been stained by these hands.
To quick to the conclusion.
Where did the time go.
The after life must be nice.
But at what price.
Will my helping hand ever suffice.
Everybody wants something and nobody is willing to give up anything.
So take it from me.
Give me the lashings.
Make me wear the crown of thorns.
Inflict every evil known to man.
Just leave them alone.
Let me be the victim of your ignorance.
Hate me because I want you to.
I wrote it all down in a letter.
Sent it in a red envelope.
That has been stained by these hands.
To quick to the conclusion.
Where did the time go.
I will never stand for it.
I will jump in the middle every time.
Not to pick sides.
But to lye defenseless for someone else.
Me before the child.
Me before the mother.
Me before the father.
A savior of none, but a victim from it all.
My daily life will not be measured by thing I did for myself.
But instead what I did for you.
Not because you asked.
I don't care if its what you wanted.
A forced sacrifice.
Solid as a block of ice.
I wrote it all down in a letter.
Sent it in a red envelope.
That has been stained by these hands.
To quick to the conclusion.
Where did the time go.
I'm sorry just run.
I take the brunt of it.
Its not my fault but I don't even care.
Sometimes you have to do things out of love.
Even if it means I will die.
It's not even my fight.
That's why I will just be another punching bag.
As the lights dim.
I know soon my life will end.
I wrote it all down in a letter.
Sent it in a red envelope.
That has been stained by these hands.
To quick to the conclusion.
Where did the time go.
song, lyrics by Ace Of Black Hearts
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A Cinderella Story' vs Reality
There is a girl and a boy,
Connected only in cyber,
Never met,
Never phoned,
How long can it last?
It is like in the movie ‘A Cinderella Story’,
Her friend said.
The girl loves him so much,
She cannot took her mind off him,
She waits in front of computer every night,
Waiting for her Prince Charming to greet.
They have known each other a year,
They lived very far apart,
It is like one is up there,
One is down the globe,
Can it last?
She wondered.
One day,
Her Prince Charming said those magical words to her,
She was barely able to breathe,
She was the happiest person on Earth,
But Prince Charming loves her as…?
On one beautiful night,
As usual,
She spent almost hours and hours in front of the computer,
Wait till Prince Charming to come,
But he did not,
She was a bit upset,
She wrote to Prince Charming,
‘You love me as what? ’
Prince Charming replied her the next day,
‘I love you as my girlfriend’,
‘Will you be mine? ’
For God’s sake,
She was absolutely wanted to be his,
‘I sure will’,
It was the best day of her life.
So, there it was,
For her,
She hopes her story does not end just like that,
She will wait for her Prince Charming,
To come to her,
In reality,
Not just in cyber,
Even if it take 100 years.
She wanted them to see,
She wanted him to take her hands,
She wanted to dance in the rain with him,
She wanted to feel his warm,
She wanted him for sure,
She will wait, she swore.
A Cinderella Story?
It is different with her story, she thought,
It is just the same,
When it comes to how they stay connected.
poem by Lovita Lara
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I wrote those poems for myself, as a way of being a soldier here in this country. I didn't know the poems would travel. I didn't go to Lebanon until two years ago, but people told me that many Arabs had memorized these poems and translated them into Arabic.
quote by June Jordan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Wrote A Poem I Loved
I WROTE A POEM I LOVED
I wrote a poem I loved
But I could not rest content with it.
I had to write another poem,
And another poem.
And in the writing of other poems,
Some of which I also loved.
I lost the poem I loved.
Essentially I am a writer of poems
And not their possessor.
I possess many poems of others,
But somehow mine, I cannot.
However I love them
Perhaps I really believe
None of them good enough
To be worthy of such love.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Suzanne & The Jewels
Suzanne was the jewel keeper
In a word she stole all the jewels
And she took them to a foreign land
Which was strictly against all the rules
And she wore them all proudly
Like a tiara crown on her head
She slept with them at night
Suzanne and the jewels in a bed
Chorus:
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown from your head?
Suzanne lived down by the river
The fountain of youth did flow
And she played on a steel guitar
And the drifters did come and theyd go
And shed put on her crown
And shed sing them a song
And some drifters would stay here the night
But they never did stay long
Chorus:
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown from your head?
This girl flew on the wind
She wrote her own name in the stars
Just goes to show sometimes you win
No matter how crazy you are
But a thief can come knocking
Even with blood on the door
And drink up your fountain of youth
And throw your jewels and your crown on the floor
Chorus:
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown from your head?
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown off your head?
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Wrote Many New Poems Now Long Forgotten
I WROTE MANY POEMS NOW LONG FORGOTTEN
I wrote many poems now long forgotten
Why do I believe any poem I will write now
Or in the future
Is better than them?
I am a man lost in the world of his own words
And the only way out I know
Is writing more words
Which too are added on
To the unending pile of the forgotten.
Tell me where this poem too will be
When I am in the ground?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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All She Wrote
Something's wrong with your mind
It won't think of me anymore
Was it all a waste of time
Tell me why was I such a chore
Broken glass lies empty
Cut my voice so I can't say
Today was that day
It was that time
And that was all that she wrote for me
You fell away
I don't know why
And that was all that she wrote for me
Lying here in your bed
The one that you liked to do it in
Pieces of long brown hair
Are all over it and still in my brain
I can't explain
What it's like not knowing if I'll ever cross your mind
Today was that day
It was that time
And that was all that she wrote for me
You fell away
I don't know why
And that was all that she wrote for me
Sleep through the day
Fight with the night
Seven a.m. and the tv is white
Covered in snow
I never knew that hell could get so cold
Today was that day
It was that time
And that was all that she wrote for me
You fell away
I don't know why
And that was all that she wrote for me
Today was that day
It was that time
And that was all that she wrote for me
You fell away
I don't know why
And that was all that she wrote for me
Something's wrong with your mind
It won't think of me anymore
Was it all a waste of time
song performed by by Default
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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