Sonnet: A Good Poem
My Muse does not me bring riches, I seek;
A life of poverty with it comes meek;
I struggled with Poetry and my Rhymes,
Regardless of night/ day or other climes.
My inspirations most come from above;
These are the best poems and which I love;
These are the ones too, I don’t alter much;
For centuries, they can well stand as such.
I make some poems of my own design;
They aren’t the best always; so, I resign;
Whatever poem’s made, I shouldn’t alter,
Nor do I ever for money, barter.
All good poems that stand the test of time
Are inspired and perspired to rhyme.
poem by John Celes
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The History Poems Have Not Been Written
The history poems have not been written
The poems after Milosz
The Wallace Stevens poems will never be written
I can’t come close
I have tried the Blake poems
But of course I am not near them either
I would like to the ironic intellectual poems
I might be able to do them
I could do a kind of surrealistic association mind poem a prose poem
But I don’t like that very much
The poems of Jerusalem have not been good enough
Poems of propaganda are awkward and unacceptable
The small poems that tell of my life
They are for me the chance at real poetry
And I will continue as best I can with them
The American poems I have not yet found the idiom for
I can be epigrammatic in Emerson Thoreau fashion
But not with the hard New England observing eye
Borges poems I love
And the stories of mind and literature
Making the drama of a life of a storyteller
Interest me
But I doubt I could truly do them well
Imitation can only take one so far
And through it one may lose one’s way entirely
I can really do only what I am
Not the Dickinson poems nor the Hopkins poems nor the Wordsworth poems nor the Keats poems nor the Amichai poems nor the poems of many others whose poetry I love
The Biblical poems have been tried
The poems of cosmic and scientific reflection
I could try to improve them
There are too many different kinds of poems to write
And I cannot write almost all of them
This is another poem about poems and poetry
I have written many for a long time now
Perhaps I need to go elsewhere and write in a new way
A way I have not dreamed or even remotely understood possible before.
The poems of the unknown poetry await me
I will go on but I am not sure now I know in which wa
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Not Every Poem Knows How To Say Its Own Name Properly
NOT EVERY POEM KNOWS HOW TO SAY ITS OWN NAME PROPERLY
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly-
There are poems that have no name
And poems that are named by others who have not written them-
There are poems whose names make them what they are
And poems whose names contradict and belie them-
Many poems have their first lines as their names
And these poems often are as memorable as one line only-
Great poems and good poems can be nameless
Or can have unforgettable names.
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly -
Poems are poems are poems
And names are names are names
And sometimes they meet and are one
And live happily ever after-
But there are times when perhaps
They never should have met each other at all.
Poems have their names
And names have their poems
But sometimes they love each other
And truly are one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Poems About Poems About Poems
Poems about poems about poems-
More poems and more poems and more poems-
Poems poems poems poems poems-
How many poems?
How much poetry
Until there is no poetry at all?
But only 'words' and 'words' and 'words'
Until one goes far away
Where there was never a poem before-
And suddenly hears
“Let there be Light”.
And Poetry perhaps
Is born again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Know Only Poems With Rhyme
To the children of the world
I know only poems with rhyme
That stay in tune with ev’ry clime.
I know only poems with beat
That make me stand up on my feet.
When poets all have breathed their last,
And poems are buried in dust,
Then children will come out in time
To dig the poems, black with grime.
And when the cloud of dust is gone,
And children are through having fun,
They’ll throw away poems like lime
But pick up only those with rhyme.
poem by Gilbert Pangyarihan
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We Need Poems To Make Us Love Life More
WE NEED POEMS TO MAKE US LOVE LIFE MORE
We need poems to make us love life more
Poems that will make us happier
Poems that will make us kinder, better people.
We need poems that will inspire us
That will add to our sense of the world’s Beauty
We need Poems that will make us love others as we love ourselves as we love God.
We need holy poems
And joyful poems
And blessed poems
And kind poems
We need poems which will make us love life more
Which will help us love others and ourselves more
God more
We need poems.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sonnet: Immortal Shall Be My Poems
My poems shall live for Eternity!
God inspires me and I perspire;
Writ them all I have for all posterity;
Outcome my poems from my heart with fire.
I’ll say all the good things, I ought to say;
Paint all the bad things, they ought to refrain;
On earth we must live with care any day;
Life is just one chance and doesn’t come again.
Writ are my thoughts for immortality!
God helps say the right things in right ways;
The art in my poems, the world will see;
I’ll serve God thus for the rest of my days.
My poems will stand the test of all time;
I speak of life and values with much rhyme.
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Future of Poetry
Poems I thought had good rhythm and Rhyme,
And a moral good at the end of each;
Good Poems I thought should the test of time,
And remained well within the masses’ reach.
Poems I thought had nice music in them,
With apt words placed in right place in each case;
It was a time for Poetry’s Anthem;
Alas, the art is in for a rat-race!
Modern Poetry that is being writ,
From Prose is hard to ever from it sift;
Slang, vulgarities somehow find a place;
’Tis doomsday for poetry at this pace!
Turned has the Wheel of Time almost fully;
’Tis time to draw water with the pulley!
poem by John Celes
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An Evening Poem
AN EVENING POEM
An evening poem
Waits for deeper darkness
A night poem knows blackness
As home.
A morning poem is light
An afternoon poem is thick with heat.
All times have a poem
And all seasons poems also
All lives are poems
And all stories also.
We all are and all know poems
Poems pervade us
And the universe.
It is night now
But when the morning comes
Its poem will overshadow now.
What a brave new world it is
With so many poems in it
And what a life-
With such deep sadness
Waiting forever to be unexpressed.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poems Bring Me Back To Myself
THE POEMS BRING ME BACK TO MYSELF
The poems bring me back to myself
I begin to live again –
Without the poems
I would have to make a new life-
I do not know if I am capable of it-
A life without poems without poetry
With other words perhaps-
I am too old to slowly write the long narrative
I never was capable of before
Little poems
Little lines
What I am capable of now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Is No Poem For Me Today
THERE IS NO POEM FOR ME TODAY
There is no poem for me today
There is no poem of yesterday
The poems have gone
And far away
There is no poem
For another day.
There never will be another poem
Poems are gone
Poems are stone.
All the words I will ever write
Are not enough
For a Poem of Life.
The Poems are not
They will never be
I am not a Poem
Nor Poetry.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Greatest Poem
Good poems don't rhyme
Great poems don't have rhythm
The greatest poem is not one on paper but said out loud
Good poems are about flowers and puppies
Great poems are about peace and happiness
The greatest poems are about change
What should change.
how it should change.
And who should change.
Most of all the greatest poem is not one about the life you wanted to live
But the one you are living.
poem by Getasew Shumet
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Poems About.
There are poems that you will never see
Marked in a folder titled 'privacy'
Poems of hate and anger and personal pain
Poems about greed and hunger and personal gain
Poems about people I would love to see dead
Poems about women I met
Poems about relationships that have gone bad
Poems about issues with mom and dad
Poems about me, the person no one knows
Poems about places where only my soul goes
Poems I wish I could place in the clouds for all to read
Poems about lust, selfishness and greed
Poems I know will hurt those I hate
Poems I write by complete mistake
Poems I have hidden in my heart and my head
Poems about things that are better left unsaid
Poems I want to share and poems I want to retract
Poems of shame and how others might act
They stay in my psyche, they are a part of me
These poems I write, but you will never see.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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An Afternoon Poem Is Rare
AN AFTERNOON POEM IS RARE
An Afternoon Poem is rare-
Afternoon is long after the first light-
Afternoon is a time of heaviness and quiet
A time of rest-
Afternoon is after the morning work has been done-
Afternoon is the weight of the day-
Afternoon is the time after the day has lost its freshness-
Still there must be afternoon poems-
There must be a beauty that emerges
In its own way,
Perhaps from where lovers meet
Perhaps from ‘ripeness is all’
Perhaps from the anticipation of evening
Perhaps from winter where it is the warmest time of day.
There must be afternoon poems-
Poems that celebrate all that warmth can bring-
Poems of rest poems of sleep-
Poems of waiting to believe
That in the evening
A new day and a new world
Will make life easier again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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(V – 2010) To Risha Ahmed
(With Love, Admiration and Best Wishes)
Of Poetry, O Prodigy!
You pen with wit and sanity
Your vision shows maturity
Your diction forces clarity!
Of Poetry, O Prodigy!
Your rhythm rides melodiously
You rhyme with ease and quality
Your hallmark is spontaneity!
Of Poetry, O Prodigy!
Your poems voice vocal beauty
Your poems value buoyancy
Your poems come creatively!
Of Poetry, O Prodigy!
You need now learn no prosody
You embody true poetry
Your poetry is really free!
Of Poetry, O Prodigy!
Your rhymes & themes with time vary
You proceed but with modesty
Your future you can guarantee!
Of Poetry, O Prodigy!
Your age will grow your ability
Your heart will light your journey, see
Your writings light humanity!
It Is A Habit
writing poems
when you really write poems
everyday and every moment of your life
even when you're in the middle of your
bread and butter eating thing
or even when you are defecating
writing poems becomes a habit
even when you sleep even when you dream
writing poems becomes a part of your system
you eat poetry you vomit poetry
you digest poetry you poo poetry
you breathe poetry you sweat poetry
you love poetry and you live with your poetry
and at the end you die with poetry
and your epitaph says: here lies the poet,
choked with poetry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Oh The Poems And More Poems
OH THE POEMS AND THE MORE POEMS
Oh the poems and the more poems
The wonderful poems I am writing all the time
God has given me this gift
And when I wait in the right way
And when I listen to myself properly
The poems come in ways I could never have thought of or imagined before
They come as mysteries as gifts as surprises
As wonderful to me as perhaps to you their possible readers
Oh the poems and the more poems
The wonderful poems God has given me
And the light of this day and so many other days, also.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Fate of Top Poems!
Past poets were remarkable by their poems only;
But present poets are made remarkable by others!
Poetry of the past are no doubt top poems ever;
But poetry of the top are not listed in top poems!
Becoming top poets how can theirs have no place
Among the top poems of the poetry list? I wonder!
Touch stone of the top poems depends on merit
But not by the supports of friends for fun ever!
Poems of lasting value only can become classic;
But poems of no merit also have become classic!
Poetry of the past are romantic and also classic
But poetry of the present are neither but modern!
What is the yardstick to select poems as top ones -
Just support of some but not merit and meaning?
poem by Ramesh T A
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My Poems Are Poems Of The Light Of The Day
MY POEMS ARE POEMS OF THE LIGHT OF THE DAY
My poems are poems of the light of the day
The poems of the night are for others-
When the night comes
I hide and wait in silence
Until the day comes-
My poems are poems of the light of the day
And I dare not bring the poems of the night within them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Critics Have Appeared
critics have appeared
in these cyber times
hunting for poems
and passing wise words
on poems they swallow in seconds
and whose comments are like puke;
and whose own gems of poems when you seek
it turns out, they have not published any
at the very poetry portals where they pass such magnificent judgment…
O Ye Critics who hunt for poems
come back another day
when you have poems some of your very own…
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Why Should I Have A Poem?
WHY SHOULD I HAVE A POEM?
Why should I have a poem?
Who am I to have a poem?
Who is anyone to have a poem?
But then again
Aren’t we all poems?
Many poems
And each one of us many voices
And who knows how deep feelings
We ourselves cannot understand
And lingerings of beauty
We can ourselves barely decipher?
Who knows what a poem is
And what life means
And why we write and read
And what words move us
In the middle of the night
Or at the end of the day
When even our dreams are asleep?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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