Notes From Freedom's Heart
i spend a lot of my time writing
about freedom, dignity, and equality....
using a lot of different forms, just
trying to be heard....
but i've come to the understanding
that whether i write it, sing i, play it
on guitar, paint it, dance it, or write
it on signs and march it.....
doesnt matter!
what matters is whether i live it!
when i can look into another human being's
eyes and not see color, gender, religious
or political idealogies, or sexual preference...
when i know that their mistakes and failures
are my own... that there is no difference
between us... that we have the same needs
and desires... and that we need each other.....
when i'm willing to listen, to offer a hand up, willing
to work and walk beside of (not in front of!) ....
when my thoughts, words, and actions reflect a deep
reverence and respect for all that lives....
when my choices validate humanity.....
when i can see without judging... when i'm
willing to speak the truth at all costs....
to give all that i have, and all that i am,
regardless of the risk....
when my own life matters less to me than
the lives of those i come in contact with....
when i'm willing to stand up for what's right,
for compassion, and for hope... even if it
costs me my own life....
then, and only then, i will have become
the poem i've tried all of my life to write...
then and only then, i will have become
fully human.... and will have answered the call
that we all have....
will i continue to write? yes!
but day by day, moment by moment....
i'll keep working!
will you join me?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Poem Written By A Confessed Bipolar (her Name To Be Revealed Upon Her Permission)
I write because I can
I write because there are so many things to be written.
I write because I can make a painting without a brush and paints in my hand.
I write because I can capture the moment without having a camera.
I write because letters and words are the only recipe I know how to cook.
I write because I want to read what I’ve written.
I write because I’m used to speak in silence.
I write because I have a story to tell.
I write because I want to strip off my flesh and live as a pure being.
I write because I can record my “voice” without having a recorder.
I write because it’s like a cup of coffee, it keeps me awake
I write because I want to live even when I do not exist.
I write because this is my throwing stones when I’m frustrated.
6/11/09 at 4: 42 PM
I write because I can flaunt my being when I don’t have clothes to show off.
I write because this is like making an encyclopedia to a coloring book.
I write because it’s more effective than my lithium medication.
I write because I’m tired of carrying these baggages on the road.
I write because I’m tired of talking too much.
I write because it’s a healthier diversion than smoking.
I write because it’s more therapeutic than analyzing my problem.
I write because I want to paint a thousand pictures with words.
I write because I can put colors to the letters and make a rainbow of words.
I write because it’s the key combinations to my hidden vaults.
I write because my ball pen is my best friend in the darkest nights.
I write because it surprises me with what I am capable of thinking&doing. 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because I like that ideas are popping like pop corns.
I write because I can wander in the adventures of my own world.
I write because I have to cleanse my collection of memories of an old home.
I write because like a mirror you need to do a lot of reflections.
I write because I want to fight the battle of life.
I write because I wanted my little voice to be heard.
I write because I want to run from the insanities of the world.
I write because pictures don’t talk.
I write because it helps me connect the dots when I look back in my life.
I write because it brings me back to my crib of silence.
I write because it makes a buzz to other bees in my beehive.
I write because unlike my bike my destination is limitless.
I write because I want to become an inspiration without extinction 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because like strumming of the guitar, it vibrates in my soul.
I write because I love to write.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loose Talk Costs Lives
(b gibb)
Loose talk costs lives
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
Dont look at me as if you dont remember me at all
There was laughter, there was pain
But I wont make the same mistakes I made
You are too beautiful to me
I hide my tears inside the rain
Am I the soul you cast your spell upon
I had control and now its gone
Or are you someone who controls my heart and mind
And I will never say a word
And I will never say goodbye
Loose talk costs lives
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
I can see that someone hung a sign around your heart
And it reads do not return
And there is so much trouble I could cause
Someone as beautiful as you
You can feel my candle burn
And I still recall some starry night
We had it all, we held on tight
I promised I would come to you and catch you if you fall
And they will never know about us
For just one moment you were mine
Loose talk costs lives
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
For just one moment, just one moment, you were mine
Loose talk costs lives
(our moment held in time)
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
Loose talk costs lives
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snail Crossing..... (Part Thirteen)
i've never had any desire to be rich....
like millions of people...
all i've asked is the right to work,
to have food and shelter for my family,
to have just a little time
to do what matters to me...
to be honest and giving,
to celebrate tiny moments,
to love and be loved,
and to go deep inside, and search.
determined to help anyone i can,
in whatever small way...
always willing to listen,
always ready to learn.
working every moment to be open minded,
taking responsibility for my mistakes,
and my failures...
drunk on the act of living,
at peace,
both with life, and with death.
honored to be a friend,
to have companions...
and to fight every day,
to make this dream become real.
angered by hunger,
prejudice and indifference.
moment by moment becoming aware,
chanting equality and dignity....
and most of all, human!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Could Write A Poem About Each Person I Have Known And Cared About
IF I COULD WRITE A POEM FOR EACH PERSON I HAVE KNOWN AND CARED ABOUT
If I could write a poem for each person I have known and cared about,
If I could say something of the goodness and pain of their lives,
If could write them as they truly were or are-
But who can write a whole life truly
And what could it mean to them
Or their eternal happiness?
Their lives were and are beyond my writing of them
And my words and my feelings
Are only my own.
God bless them all
Each one his own story and name.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Notes For A Tomorrow
i feel very fortunate to be able
to write, and to share my thoughts
and feelings
i also feel a responsibility to write
the truth, not only my truth, but the
truth of all those around me
and so i paint these pictures of life,
some quite beautiful, some harsh and
distressing
we, as a people, and as individuals
are the human race. and what makes
it work is the word we
we are a part of each other, our happiness
and our hopes are dependent on each other
there is no i that is not a part of we!
we have reached a point in time when things
are extremely hard when it's almost impossible
to survive when it would be easy to lose hope
too many wars, too much poverty, too much disease,
too much homelessness, too much despair
if i'm not able to communicate anything else
let it be this each of you, each of us, and all
of life are precious it's time to join hands, and
work together for peace, and for a tomorrow
if we dont, there wont be a tomorrow
every moment we have is a gift a gift that
begs to be shared
in the wake of 9/11, and of the wars let's stand up
stand up and be counted as believers in life, and
in each other
i care about each of you and thank you for your time
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0005 Letter to a Younger Poet
Thanks for your letter. Though
you’ve caught me at a rather awkward time –
I’m going into surgery tomorrow – a rather
risky op; so I’ll try to put all the answers that I’ve got
into this one letter;
I hope you'll understand...
and that helps me to make my first point to you:
write as if you, too, may not live
beyond tomorrow – write as if
it’s the last thing that you’ll ever write –
give it everything you’ve got,
hold nothing back;
or better still – write as if
the world will end for everyone tomorrow:
write so that in their last hours, too, this
will make them feel, will make them know
we’ve faced life fully, faced it so complete
that death is relatively unimportant now…
write as if it were only yesterday
that, in an air crash, all your family –
parents, wife or husband, partner, children, and best friend,
had lost their lives; write as if,
were you not to write,
your heart would break forever, or you would go mad...
write as if you’re writing somewhere
where there’s no such thing around, as ink;
you’ll have to use your own blood in the pen,
so use it carefully; so red, so living,
look at it… so beautiful, so precious,
and so solemn – use it carefully, don’t spill a drop…
write as if you’re borrowing every word
from the very centre of the universe, where suns and gods are made;
and need thus to account for every word
with your whole life, no less; know that every word
must be given back, cleaner, stronger, brighter
with your own power, than when you borrowed it;
write as if every poet that ever lived
is leaning over your shoulder, so that you
can feel their breath upon your neck as they say
‘Tell them all that we would tell,
but cannot now; tell them all of this’…
this, now, is how you must deeply be and speak;
write as if you are the only being on earth
who can tell them this; as if tomorrow, if tomorrow comes,
you shall visit them every one, at home,
and look them in the eye; write as if
you love them more than they will ever know;
write as if you were offering to live their lives with them;
write as if you were a force of nature in yourself:
as if whatever earthquake, hurricane or flood might do,
whatever law or love may greatly do,
whatever gods or men can speak, in fullest force,
this you may do, because the sound of poetry is such;
yes, write ‘as if’ – but know you really write ‘because’…
write as if – no, write because –
you know that only poetry can tell
all, that must be told, and must be known;
and as all hearts melt in the heat of your own love,
be in no doubt – and see that all are in no doubt too –
that life was never, never more serious,
never more glorious, than it is right now;
write all this.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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We Make These Choices!
who makes the choices
that change the world?
that decide who eats,
who has shelter,
who has medical care?
the choices...
whether or not to bomb,
whether to pull the trigger.
whether to see that justice is done,
or to turn the head,
and walk away...
whether to accept
people for who they are,
and what they are...
whether to stand up
for the other person's rights,
the other person's beliefs,
the other person's way of life...
whether to walk in dignity,
and respect,
or to take at all costs.
we make these choices,
each of us every moment
of every day.
what we do or dont do,
say or dont say,
give or dont give,
changes the world!
actions and inaction,
hidden thoughts and feelings,
who we vote for,
and whether we vote...
whether we're willing
to share what we have...
we change the world,
moment by moment...
for better, or worse?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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!
Home Alone Happy Without Working Computer
Home alone happy without working computer
I take my pen in hand
And slowly write these words –
Let the world click and paste and post
I am out of it for now-
I have before me an evening of any book I like
Of any page I want to write
-
Peace of Mind is one place of attention at a time-
Here weighing each word as I write
I am at home with my inner self-
I hear my own thoughts
I correct them at my own pace.
So many words and so many pages
Have been written in my life-
Now in this one
I am wholly at home
Peaceful, quiet happy
Each word a small blessing
As I write it-
This is the only poem I know
The only page I see
The only place of attention
I give myself and my soul to
At this moment.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Write Poem
Write write write
And write poem and write
Till you cross the poem
And to cross the poem
You have to write and write
And write.
Look,
Child is here
Moon is here
Look
Here is flower
Here is water
You are here
To write poem
On different color
That give you pleasure
Pleasure is the
Ultimate aim of creature.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Go Slowly To The End Of Your Own Life
GO SLOWLY TO THE END OF YOUR OWN LIFE
Go slowly to the end of your own life And do not remain there in silence
But speak continue to speak
Beyond the grave
As if you never died
Or never could die
And as if your life
Is a giving to others
Of words and thoughts
Others were helped by your giving.-
Write on beyond all and forever
Write write write
And never die.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Best Poem
when you plant a seed
in the ground, and
water it, work it, weed it
till it grows... you've written
the best poem you'll ever write.
when you make a baby,
waiting and planning for birth;
and you raise this child to adulthood
with respect... you've written
the best poem you'll ever write.
when you live your life
working honestly, giving
all that you are and can be,
never holding back... you've written
the best poem you'll ever write.
when you go to death openly
with no regrets, not clinging
to dreams that were not real,
owning no one... you've written
the best poem you'll ever write.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Write And Write And Write And Write
I WRITE AND WRITE AND WRITE AND WRITE
I write and write and write and write
I write and write and write and write
I write.
And all this writing and all these words and all I am
Forever unheard.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Couldn't Write The Poem I Wanted To Write
I couldn't write the poem I wanted to write-
I do not know why exactly
Some days it works
And some nights it works
And some times it just does not work at all-
I couldn't write the poem I wanted to write-
There have been so many things in my life
I have wanted to do
And not been able to-
As I grow older
I fear there will be more and more simple things
I will not be able to do.
So much of what we are
Is in these failures-
I sometimes think how sad it is
That I have failed in so many things-
All my life I have known failures
And it will not end until I do-
I couldn't write the poem I wanted to write,
And this is not it, either.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Write
Write, keep writing lot
Write, write before you forget
Write, make it as reminder
Write, write before words disappear
Write, for you to contemplate
Write, write before your mind changed
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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I'd Rather Write
I'd rather write a poem, Lord,
Than mow the lawn today,
As mowing grass I'd soon be bored
And choose to walk away...
That wall needs painting, yes, I know,
Another month won't hurt,
I'd rather write and watch words flow
Than paint and hide the dirt...
I'd rather write a poem, Lord,
Than tidy up that room,
A tidy room's a poor reward
Compared with words that bloom...
That pile of clothes I'll get round to,
No pressure, they can wait,
I'd rather write my point of view,
As my views are first rate...
I'd rather write a poem, Lord,
Than wash the car outside,
It's not a Rolls, it's just a Ford,
With scratches dust can hide...
That stack of dishes, won't complain,
No rush to stand, wipe, stir,
I'd rather write my thoughts again
Before they melt and blur...
I'd rather write a poem, Lord,
Than shop for milk and bread,
Black coffee's okay, rest assured,
I'll give up toast instead...
I'll see my girlfriend, next week, soon,
Tomorrow or tonight...
I'd rather write this afternoon,
Please, Lord, if that's all right...
Denis Martindale, copyright, March 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Why Do I Write
I write from my sadness
I write from the madness
I write because I have something to say
I write to pass the day
I write only from the heart
I write for sometimes I am not that smart
Whatever is in head just comes out on paper (in this case a word document) , and I go with the flow
Write to let my mind go
I follow my hand to where ever it takes me
I write all the things that I can see
I write when I am happy, but not as much
I write from my heart that you can touch
I write because I’d go insane
I am driven to write quell my pain
At times I feel alone so I write what I am feeling
I write for it is self-healing
Confident not so I write it all away
I write and write to pass the day
I write to comfort my soul that cries out in the night
I write for love is always out of sight
I write so I don't have to cry any more
I write for I have no one to adore
I write so someone somewhere will hear my plea
I write for someone is out there for me
I am lost and I the clown
I write to turn my frown upside down
I write to embrace the sadness I hide inside
I write with my heart opened wide
I write to silence the ghost
I write for I’ve been let down by the one I loved the most
I write through the stormy weather
I write for I am light as a feather
I am not a writer nor am I a poet
I write for the grief I do know it
I will write until I draw my last breath
I write because I'll die a lonely death
I have to write for strangers delight
I write because I have to write
I write for my own happiness
I write to relieve my stress
I write because I have no other choice
I write as if I was writing a letter
I write because I can’t do any better
I write because I am afraid not to
I write for this is what I do
I write for I give a damn
I write just because I am
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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The Black Man
Ive seen so many thing about racism on the T.V and in the newspaper, I thought I would write about it. This is the poem that flowed so freely from my hands
I walk down the street
There is no one I can meet
For I am not wanted
Like a cat in your flowers
A mosquito on you
People wish I wasn’t here
And yet I will never leave
I am, the black man.
I respect all
Even those who hate me
I wouldn’t hurt a person
And yet they want to hurt me
I stand out in a crowd
No one wants to walk beside me
I am, the black man
I can’t sit at the front of the bus
I must walk by
But every time I do
I get kicked by many shoes
So I decided to stop
Stand up for me
Live for my people.
For I am, the black man.
I refuse to listen to them
I get attack relentlessly
I still don’t listen
I shall never give up
Never fall in
For I am, the black man
I get taken away
But my spirit and soul stay
They will continue to fight
Continue to disobey
I won’t stop until we are free
To live life fully
For I am, the black man
poem by Dillon Crawford
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Write A Poem And Immortalize Yourself
Write a poem and they'll
Read your masterpiece for
The next five hundred years!
Write a fabulous poem and they'll
Know who you are!
Write a great majestic superlicious
Poem and immortalize yourself!
Kings and presidents live and they
Die to be the footnotes of History!
But if you write a superb poem
They'll call you the immortal
Beloved of your generation!
Write the poem of the century
And you will speak in proverbs
With the gods!
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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Not The Poem Then
NOT THE POEM THEN
Not the poem then
Although it can be the poem
Writing
Simply writing
This is the duty and the meaning
And the release from meaninglessness
And the ‘enabling me to go on’
The poem is only one form of it
It is the writing which matters
My life has been this
This writing
Even if it is a poor poem now
As I write these words
I live.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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