When I die
When Michael or Gabriel
comes for me
do not write
RIP on my grave
or leave a rousing poem
and just let me be me.
When I die let me lie,
in a humble
piece of earth.
When I rise I will see
the Creator
with my own eyes
and this earth,
will only be
like a bed to me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Broken-wing Angel
Out of a sapphire blue heaven
I fell down to earth,
while I reached with my right hand
for the stars.
Michael and Gabriel was with me
when a thunder stroke
clapped blinding out of the darkness
and hit my right wing and singe it.
The forces of darkness
was suddenly everywhere around me
and with a last desperate swish
of my left wing
and with a flaming sword
I tried to stop
that they lay there hands
on a child in Clanwilliam.
Today there’s a marble statue
at that child’s grave
and no man knows,
why I protect that piece of earth
with a broken wing.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Wrote A Poem Against The Sadness Of The Night
I wrote a poem against the sadness of the night-
The night did not surrender easily-
Time has its ways of working on all of us-
I have seen many die too many die-
And as I grow older and more contemporaries leave this earth
I know my grave is too coming soon -
The sadness of the night
And the sadness of when there will be no night
And the sadness of life
And those left behind in it -
One can visit a thousand graves
But each new one startles and saddens and frightens
Why oh why God does it all end in dying this way?
YOU write the poem against the sadness of the night
I cannot write it
I can only read what life gives
And that is sad enough Sad too much.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
poem by Julia Grace
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Earth In Figurative Atmosphere
The earth is a poem
dust of word from soil
comma of rustling river
moving like sentences
over hills below grains
the earth is a poem
the endless way of invisible wind
like writer's ink
encircling spiral earth
narrates methaporical senses
the earth is a poem
beholding singular strength
a verb from greeney scene
all birds fly across simile lane
above appositive mountains
the earth is a poem
the haiku tune of nature's keen
like rhyming notes on ear
drill sentences of joy and pain
read by conscious dwellers
the earth is a poem
and a poem is an earth
where earthly books sojourn
sheltered with apostrophe of love
and hyphen of greatness by God
the Ultimate Author from above
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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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!
For Every Poem We Write
FOR EVERY POEM WE WRITE
FOR EVERY POEM WE WRITE
For every poem we write
Many others not written-
There are more potential poems
In the universe
Than stars,
And more stars
Than all the people
Who have been on earth-
And more people now
Than we will ever write the story of.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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In Saint Gabriel's Wings
In saint gabriel's wings I fly over living waters
And all over the mountains all the way to the blue sky above
The people here on earth
Yes with Saint's Gabriel I will be in Heaven tomorrow
And I will enter the gate of heaven
And in God's above I will be because now I am dead
So don't look for me on the earth because I am not there
I am now resting in heaven forever
I shall cry in heaven
And my tears will run down from heaven
Also my spirit will be in heaven
My body is the only thing that will remain on the planet earth
poem by Aldo Kraas
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In the spirit of Rumi - 64 - One
bee,
said the flower
flower,
said the bee
rain,
said the seed
seed,
said the rain
earth,
said the sky
sky,
said the earth
man,
said the creator
creator,
said the man
do they know
they all speak the same language?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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In the spirit of Rumi - 63 - One
bee,
said the flower
flower,
said the bee
rain,
said the seed
seed,
said the rain
earth,
said the sky
sky,
said the earth
man,
said the creator
creator,
said the man
do they know
they all speak the same language?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God is the creator
God is the creator
poem is a creation
Poet is not God.
I am a lover of poem
Poet is my hero
God is hero's hero.
I just read poem
I just enjoy reading poem
I shall continue to read poem
As long as I enjoy poem.
At times
Poems are being written by me.
The credit goes to God
God direct me to write poem
And I write.
God only can explain the meaning
I am just an instrument
And nothing.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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For Rilke
What is the subject of your poem?
‘I was there.’
Why is it so important to you?
‘I was there.’
How can you describe it?
‘I was there.’
What did you know of it?
‘I was there.’
And what did it teach you?
‘Of itself, nothing;
only that I was there.’
And what will that bring to you?
‘Now, all may be known.’
Then what can your poem share with others?
‘Be there too.’
What can you say now
to those who thirst after knowledge?
‘Be here.’
What can you say now
to those who thirst after God?
‘Be here.’
And what of poetry and praise?
‘Always now.’
And what of your soul?
‘Always here, and always now.’
What then, the Creator’s message?
‘Be here; be now; be always.’
And what the Creator’s smile of love?
‘The here; the now; the always.’
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Write Me A POEM
wrtie me a poem.
why don't you write me a poem?
you other girls get cars and money.
write me a poem.
all i want is a poem. a long beutiful poem.
write me a poem.
poetry is like making love. long and beutiful.
write me a poem.
i don't need your money or cars. all i want is your words.
so please,
WRITE ME A POEM.
written by bleeding mascara
poem by Shadow Eyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is that creator in you?
Let their sun rise to them from our west,
Let the doubtful ignorance be cleared as the mist,
Let the program on every chip be our tips,
Let our people wake up in pleasant hand shake.
The old civilizations and new world in Pacific Ocean,
The same old genes of first generation peaceful human,
The chart of nomenclature with variant faith, dream and color,
under the great grand name of Human, the creator.
The creator of the fire for the food,
The creator of tools for the growth,
The creator of mechanics for the transport,
The creator of electricity for the comfort,
The creator of magnificent diodes,
The creator of tiny humble chips,
The creator of laptop and internet,
The creator of wars based on faith,
The creator of ignorance,
To destroy all these intelligence.
Let the creator of peace in you evolve,
to teach the destroyers who revolve,
to reach those hearts that tremble,
Let us have the peace that triumphs.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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A Poem To Change The World
I wish I could write a poem that would change the world
A world with barbwire fences
Try to cross and you get stuck
You get pinned and you can’t come back
Ya
If I could just write a poem that would take those barbwire fences down
I wish I could write a poem that would change the world
With spotlights that blind rather than show the way
You have to look away
With spots in your eyes you cannot see
Ya
If I could just write a poem that would turn those spot lights away
I wish I could write a poem that would change the world
Airplanes that get you there if you can pay the fair
If you’re poor, you will work hard but go no where
Those who fly, are they thankful to the sky
Ya
If I could just write a poem that would make this world fair
I wish I could write a poem that would change the world
What is worse is war
And it is over there, where we send our children
There is nothing here but fear
Ya
I wish I could write a poem that make that no more
How much longer will the birds and trees
have to put up with our dirty breeze
All the water in this world
someday none of it will be safe to drink
If I could just write a poem that would clean up this mess
poem by Roger Harkness
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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.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A New Flag is Declared
A new Flag is Declared
In the dusk of the night,
Under the watchful eyes of the guards and the guns.
Ill write a poem,
On your shirt.
A multihued shirt,
Coming from the torture chamber.
A shirt of cotton and blood.
A shirt of torment, torture and anguish.
Ill write a poem
On the midst of the night
In the milieu of red.
A poem,
A single word poem.
People will make it a flag,
Raised, full staff,
Written on it a poem,
A single word poem.
On the daybreak of Iran,
In the milieu of blue
The earth is given birth
To a new flag;
Written on it:
Freedom, a single word poem.
poem by Cyrus Mahan
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This poem (says)
This poem
is friendly:
see, it’s wagging its tail,
it will follow you anywhere,
run off and come back,
a perfect companion;
this poem
loves fun:
you want to play dressing up,
it’ll laugh and rush off to the attic,
the basement, the dressing-up basket;
this poem
is serious:
you want to be silent awhile,
rest your head on its shoulder,
it will wait for you in
sympathetic stillness;
this poem
is humble:
turn it over, write
a love poem on
the other side,
it will glow with your love;
this poem
is disposable:
write a few lines, be angry
with yourself, scrumple it up,
throw it on the pavement,
someone may pick it up,
someone may tutt and place it
carefully for recycling;
this poem
is an origami:
you can make any shape you like:
a paper boat on
the waves of destiny;
a ladder to reach to where
you always wanted that fruit;
a crown; a dunce’s hat; a witch’s conic;
this poem
is elastic:
a tablecloth for a picnic,
a sheet to cover two lovers,
a ground plan for a new world;
this poem
knows where
nothing meets something,
nowhere meets everywhere,
no time meets all time,
anyone meets everyone,
this poem
has a bright eye
whether you read it or not;
this poem
likes you though it
hasn’t met you;
this poem
is impervious to scorn;
it knows who it is,
and where things begin and end.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This poem
This poem
is friendly:
see, it’s wagging its tail,
it will follow you anywhere,
run off and come back,
a perfect companion;
this poem
loves fun:
you want to play dressing up,
it’ll laugh and rush off to the attic,
the basement, the dressing-up basket;
this poem
is serious:
you want to be silent awhile,
rest your head on its shoulder,
it will wait for you in
sympathetic stillness;
this poem
is humble:
turn it over, write
a love poem on
the other side,
it will glow with your love;
this poem
is disposable:
write a few lines, be angry
with yourself, scrumple it up,
throw it on the pavement,
someone may pick it up,
someone may tutt and place it
carefully for recycling;
this poem
is an origami:
you can make any shape you like:
a paper boat on
the waves of destiny;
a ladder to reach to where
you always wanted that fruit;
a crown; a dunce’s hat; a witch’s conic;
this poem
is elastic:
a tablecloth for a picnic,
a sheet to cover two lovers,
a ground plan for a new world;
this poem
knows where
nothing meets something,
nowhere meets everywhere,
no time meets all time,
anyone meets everyone,
this poem
has a bright eye
whether you read it or not;
this poem
likes you though it
hasn’t met you;
this poem
is impervious to scorn;
it knows who it is,
and where things begin and end.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Searching For Truth
Many men venture up into space, searching for that time and place,
Just where this earth had its start, while guided by wayward hearts.
They circle way above this world, looking for grand news to herald,
News that they can be assured, the earth started without The Lord.
The Lord above, they simply mock, as to the craft above they dock,
Suspended high above the earth, filled with a vain and empty mirth.
All the time they simply speculate, of man’s beginning and his fate.
But God is not mocked my friend, as they will all see come the end.
Men continue to blindly say, all came from the big bang in one day.
A foolish theory men do embrace, so they can worship outer space.
At times I wonder, how can it be, in that vastness they can not see,
That everything their eyes can see, was created by God of Eternity.
Although they suppress The Truth, they all shall be without excuse,
Because the vastness of creation, confirms all of God’s Revelation.
Above the circle of our little earth, sits The Creator of our universe.
As Creator, only He holds the key, to every man’s eternal destiny.
Their search for truth is misplaced, ignoring God’s awesome Grace,
Men need to look to The Creator, accepting Jesus Christ as Savior.
Then He who sits above the earth, will grant these men a new birth,
And they will receive eyes to see, that space is a curtain to Eternity.
-
If Only I Could Write A Beautiful Poem
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
I would write it special and only to you
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
So that we will forever remain so very very true
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
With more than a goodness like something new
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
Like the everlasting stay of the sky so blue
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
I would pray to God
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
I would work very hard for the Lord
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
With happiness the remain all through the year
f only I could write a beautiful love poem
Knowing that you will be very near
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
One so very very true
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
I would write it just for you
poem by Douglas Carter
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