About To Write, For The First Time, A Poem, Repeated Throughout Eternity
Never felt so alive
feel as if I'm about to write
the poem I think I've written
over a thousand times
yet here I am - In this place - in this time
(living it out it seems as if again)
as if for the very first time
time, there I go again repeating myself
over and over wondering will it ever be over
thoughts spinning universes
sound of blood throbbing in the ear
hands still a bit shaky but becoming
coming to a realization
reality beginning to settle in
I can see the works of my fellow poets
the positive faces on tv
smiling faces all around me
pigeons and lily white butterflies
follow me where ever I go
I see the presence of the great spirit
and know I am not alone
Poetry, she wraps the bones thaws the cold warms the soul
provides creations leverage to break the ice
Love, for her sum essence amounts to the
sum of the most beloved creations
I'll continue to write, contemplating eternity as
we ride out this single life
no more empty threats
no more violence towards others period
the cycle stops whenever it reaches me
no longer will I have to contemplate taking my own life
I know what I am what we are what we represent
what we are here to do
but despite all the love and beauty I am blessed to express
until every being in this world is free, a part of my being,
depressed forever shall be
a cigarette to mark a coming repetitive point of pause
moment to step back retain my thoughts
don't know whats next only the poem is certain
just gotta keep positive state of mind reassuring myself
it all make sense eventually
perhaps perfect sense is just me
in the moment as I write?
But we know god we know our strength
we know we shall persevere
a life time spent sifting sorting rearranging
scattered stanzas jotted notes and thoughts of love
knowing the great spirit shall never pull my plug
every moment spent creating teaching loving learning sharing
though the poem is overwhelming
god has assured me
all will make sense eventually
for soon shall my eyes come to see
past visions play out future thought
heaven played out in fantasies
captured in the presence
visions delivered with the price
of anxiety living on constant edge
a heightened sense of anticipation
learning to help heal suffering
and how to come to terms with expectations
moments of experience
teach life lessons
compassionate pathways open the eyes
perception tells me one thing
about my place in time
wise enough to know how to
make my peace with deceptions of the mind
realize we are all in the process
of creating and affecting infinite lives
all divine beings know
what one creates today
visits another in dream
an inspiration today
birthing another tomorrow
who am I but not an i
another eye upon eternity
not the first nor the last
throughout eternity we resurface
always repeating the same messages
'after us there shall be many'
truth be told I may never know
whether I've arrived or just returned
only god has the power to reveal
I don't know yet who my thoughts
are going to reach the impact they'll one day make
to me, to you, dear
reader, thinker, lover,
soul, spirit, poet, singer
student, teacher,
to those struggling, honest working,
the faithful and the like
whoever shall stumble upon these
shared words, thoughts, these dreams,
and experiences
until god tells me I'm through
I'll keep repeating my self
channeling the best my soul has to
offer to you
thank you
simply thank you
one and all
creation knows no fury
greater than creation's
own ignorance
from existence is offered
the four presences
wisdom love compassion
and forgiveness
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
My Thoughts
Thought in the eyes,
The ears.
Thought in mind,
The brain,
Thought in heart,
The soul.
Great thought is great
when it becomes great deeds.
With my thoughts within
Building my world within
Learning with thought;
Is great learning wisdom.
Learning without thought,
Is opportunity lost.
Thought for others
Thought for God
Thought for good
Thought for God’s blessing
Thoughts teach me,
Thoughts educate me,
Thoughts clarify me,
Thoughts enlighten me.
Thoughts make me wise
Thoughts make me patience
Thoughts make me trust others
Thoughts make me clam.
Thoughts before act
Is smart and wise
Act before thoughts
Is stupid and foolish
That’s my thoughts
They make thinking clear
They make belief deepen
They make confidence high.
In thoughts, my world
In my world, make my thoughts.
In thoughts, my words
In my words, make my speech
It’s my thoughts count
Counting my thoughts
To endless counting thoughts
Thinking the thoughts endlessly
My thoughts and thoughts again.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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I Write To Write To Write
I WANT TO WRITE TO WRITE TO WRITE
I write to write to write-
A poem must be more than a straining against Emptiness-
A poem must be more than making a name.
A poem should be food for the heart and soul and mind
It should make us feel the world with new love
It should make us want to live more and more
A poem should make us love life
It should be written for its readers
And not for its poet alone
A poem should make us want to be in this world
In greater beauty and greater love.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My New Poem
My new poem is about my reveal of my life’s strain.
My new poem is like my newly conceived brain.
Yes, I want to write these feelings through my poem.
I say frequently, “ I would hanker after for a painful materialistic, egoistic love.”
But it has become totally changed.
Now, I can compare my thoughts between bluff and love.
I never count, how many seasons have passed?
But I do recollect my past
for resurrecting myself from dust.
Only I was shocked
as I was a fellow of lack of sense, and my sensitive mind was blocked.
Now, I can feel the frenzy wind.
I have got a restored mind.
So, I am capable to write my new poem.
Now, I am proceeding with enormous joy.
I want myself to employ
for to remove your frustration
by the help of friendly condescension.
Then, we all will enjoy.
We will make a moment of greatest joy.
This is my new poem.
poem by Bibhakar Dutta
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Making Poetry
Why did I make a poem?
It's more than you can imagine
It's not about black or white
Because the power of poetry that I'm dumbfounded
Look at the whole Bible, everything is poetry {not, but a holy book down from Allah is the truth}
Abstract ideas of science are all from the poem
Idealism actual human life is poetry
I'm just trying to be honest...
Creating poetry for me is more than anything
Not me want to be Jesus or Muhammad {but imitate their pious}
But I do not know what my purpose {paradise}
Only the most important is to produce poetry
I just write from the unreal world
Introduce something to people here
Are they willing to accept it or not does not matter
Since the poetry of the poem is the image of eternity
Who continue to fly and only revealed to the seeker
Poetry for me is more important than life
More important than my beloved
More important than my brother
Because the poem can represent any
Why did I make a poem?
When you reject the poem in your life
It has a form of poem to poem
Actually you can not escape from poetry
But you did not realize it, be aware of?
Indeed the poem is really real
Do you not believe how strong poetry
Look at all the countries in the world today
All poems must have an ideology
Ideology of all States is poetry
Do you still deny its power?
From now on, deep down consider
The poem is more than just blank words without the influence
(30 April 2002)
poem by Irvan Hermawan Saichu
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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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Absolution (Element Of The Ensemble III)
As I am following your footprints in the dead of night
The fog is thickening the air and as the rain falls down
I feel your presence nearby and as I search the grounds
I see you trembling with fear lying on the ground
I walk up to you, look into your eyes
I see pain and sorrow and that you will never rise
Regretting all events that you have lived 'till this day
There's no turning back, nothing you could do nor say
The understanding of certain decisions
May sometimes be difficult
A fear which could last all eternity
I enter your mind, see the world from your eyes
I reach out, touch your soul: I close my eyes to feel
The rumbling pain that runs within you, which now cannot be healed
Our minds are correlated in space of tranformed state
Your body levitates by my hand, I read your thoughts at infinite rate.
The understanding of certain decisions
May sometimes be difficult
A fear which could last all eternity
I enter your mind, see the world from your eyes
You seek forgiveness from God and people surrounding
You've just realized the pain and sorrow you have given
Love was something you were getting, never giving
Now your soul is forever scarred and weakened
Soon, you will understand the time has come today
For you to learn from your mistakes, for you to learn the ways
Willing to see through the heart, beauty and brightness of the mind
Knowing how to use the sight, the ability to find.
The understanding of certain decisions
May sometimes be difficult
A fear which could last all eternity
I enter your mind, see the world from your eyes
Chemical sorting and pair creation
Intervention takes place, memory to ashes
The mind reborn, you seek your true purpose
It lies within you...
I feel peace within as your soul meets a new world
A world where you may step up to a higher learning
Take my hand and walk down the path of forgiveness
song performed by by Quo Vadis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A poem for you...
I write a poem for you today,
to get a place in your heart for ever
A poem that could tell you my love for you
I write my poem with emotion and affection
for you to understand my deep thoughts for you
A poem to love and a poem to understand its soul
A poem to enjoy and a poem to understand its happiness
A poem to think and a poem to understand its way of life
A poem to learn and a poem to understand its content
A poem to sing and a poem to understand its melody
A poem to cry and a poem to understand its sorrow
There are poems I have written but this is specially for you
The poem could tell you how important you are for me
There are words comes out freely from my mind to write poem
but there are no words to find my love for you
Those words can not missed as I miss your love today
Let me have all those words put in to my heart and
say I love to write a love poem for you
Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka
Copyright ©2004 Ravi Sathasivam
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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A Heartfelt Letter Unsigned
It seems I am only good with words
When I write them in my silent hours
Of all the things I have wished to say
But never found the moment or courage
I find myself saddened by my thoughts
All of which surround my thoughts of you
I think you are amazing, kind and so strong
You are beautiful in many ways I cannot count
Your nature and spirit I have come to know
Shows you to be funny and loving
You put a spring in my heart, a song in my step
I would love to hold you each night
Look after way and love you always
But alas, a time has come I must face
That moment of courage and opportunity
I think it matters not anyway
I have listened to my mind and heart argue
And wish I could look through any eyes
Other my own, when I look at you
A time has come to say goodbye, to move on
I wish to take you from my heart
Place you by my side as a friend and nothing more
If only my thoughts were not my own
If only I could look through another’s eyes
Perhaps I would not need to write these words
Because moving on from you
Is the hardest most difficult decision in life
You will always be so beautiful to me
And in loving you I must say goodbye
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Dawn Of Reasoning Interconnected Mind
At the traditional age of consent,
I found a great undeniable love
for poetry as I strove to make sense
of this world with its nightmare,
of ignored unresolved problems.
I never had the chance to write,
most of my thoughts, down in
poetry. To reflect my reactions
to the events of my era. Life did
not allow time for contemplation.
It is my ardent hope that economic
circumstances or perhaps a more
focused determination; will allow
you to succeed in writing out more
poems of vital importance than I did.
I wrote when time allowed maybe
one in ten of my poems and often
the easiest. While years passed by
sometimes with nothing but work.
The gap in thought record haunts.
Ignore constant discouraging critic.
Your success now is mine your failure
mine. Therefore keep focused and let
at least some of your poetry, address
real issues. And write write write now!
You are in a time and place that requires
strong young poets from within. Past great
American poets would be devastating with
words writ in this era. I am not American,
you must be our voice from within, voice
proclaim and publish your insight! Pray or
meditate as you will and write that which
I lacking your knowledge cannot. The words
will come because the age topics demands it.
We are united in poetry and desire to express
difficult thoughts and concepts, hopefully to
be a voice of positive change! Tools are at
your finger tips, I never had contact with other
poets, in an electronic interconnected web of
minds, at the dawn of righteous determination.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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We Sing Our Love In Life Worships
'hope always to write more
not to be a good poet'
the words of my friend
Hosny Soliman defined
my thoughts perfectly
to write just a little more
to gift just a little more
to give just a little more
with no thought wasted
upon desire to write
a good poem a great poem
poetic thoughts passed
through me part of mind
song whale song sung
through huge oceans
throughout this world
through water world
oceans are like God’s tears
cried through love of us
love creations slaughtered
as you hunt us down kill us
delight in seas red harvest blood
feast upon our sacrifice flesh
until then we sing mind songs
in love life swimming oceans
in light near surface or darkness
found in pressure ocean depths
all is same one in love life waters
we sing our love in life worships
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Whispering Angel
our hearts always feel the presence of an angel
not an instinct to say, nor a wisdom to foretell, it
is the spirit that moves us of its greatness and the
power that illuminates from the one who sent them
our spirit allows us to feel that, someone who is a little
beyond our state, lies a wonderful avenue to
take in, a guide who in everything wishes to be
near through all eternity
our days is just a passing moment of an endless time, we
always see, what we believed, alas! all are just a
moment of dream, where the soul always thirsts, the
happiness that brings
our life has come to feel that, the only vessel to listen
and experience the voice of a whispering voice of
an angel is the temple of flesh that i have since, that
very moment i was conceived
our ways have changed a lot, that life we live has to listen
what it feels within, the mind tells, for what the unspoken
words of an angel, our soul whisper
poem by Antonio Liao
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Why Do I Write Poetry?
Why do I write Poetry?
The answer is not plain to see,
As a Legal Cashier I earn my Living,
For me and my family.
Why do I write Poetry?
Thoughts come to me in rhyme and verse,
They have to be worked on continually
To make those lines seem terse.
Why do I write Poetry?
One day HE’ll answer me,
Hopefully while I’m on this Earth,
Before I reach Eternity.
Why do I write Poetry?
Why must my lines scan and rhyme?
Not only on this occasion,
But forever, and all the time.
Why do I write Poetry?
Why put them on your website?
To leave my Thoughts and Visions of Life,
To you all and posterity.
© Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 9 April 2005
poem by Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet
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Spirit Of A New World
Maurice white, david foster, brian fairweather & martin page
We wake from a dream looking through
Different eyes
Some other space and time
Where love survives all the changes
Time takes you and I into another life
Burn in our hearts of fire
A new design, we are changing
Let the spirit of a new world
Keep our love alive
In the spirit of a new world
Were in overdrive
Believe all that we feel
Living a future dream
Open our eyes to see technology
Our direction
Let the spirit of a new world
Keep our love alive
In the spirit of a new world
Were in overdrive
Step into the dance
We step into the dance of life
Ride the rhythm take a chance
We can make the spirit rise
Reach out theres a new world we created
Break out, hear your heart shout
You can make it
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life of Love and Service
All I have to keep me going:
the beauty of creation
sharing love with the
mind body and soul
a single vision of heaven
a future of never ending
present moments
lifetimes of god's memories
the darkness and the light
poetry and portals open to
otherworldly dimensions of
god's imagination
buffet of choice to fill life's blanks
family friends
universal languages
laughter song
therapeutic support
open lines of communication
to teach to learn to participate
in the sharing and spreading of
infinite information
A life of love and service
always staying mindful to the fact
we are in presence of something far
greater than ourselves,
never taking for granted the miracle gifts
beauty has bestowed before our eyes
What more can we ask of our lives?
Life's struggle in
learning life's privilege
and knowing how to act accordingly
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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This Newly Loving Game
I had some time this morning that clarified my mind
The thoughts that drifted past me were of a quiet and gentle kind
I'm not saying I'm in love with you, I'm just saying that I find
That thoughts keep drifting past me of a quiet and gentle kind.
The feelings that I'm having are not easy to explain
It’s been some time since I've been in this newly loving game
It's all slow moving on now and I really can't explain
The rules that we should follow in this newly loving game.
I took the time this afternoon to write my thinking down
And all the time I wondered why and let my mind go round
Around and around the time we've spent and what I feel I've found
It took some time, I wondered why and said my thoughts aloud.
Then I ripped up the paper and I threw it on the floor
The words that I had written were like trying to keep a score
I'd tried to use my reasonings as I had done before
And the marks upon that paper had no meaning anymore.
The way that all this seems to me is not easy to explain
It’s been some time since I've been in this newly loving game
It's all slow moving on now and I really can't explain
The rules that we should follow in this newly loving game.
I spent some time this evening thinkin' of just who I am
What I like about me and what is it that I can
Offer up to someone who, when all this thing began,
Was not needing of lover nor even of a man.
Yes, we do have common interests and we can talk for hours
We share a love of poets and a questioning of power
We hold each other closely even though we're wondering how
This thing that we are making could be completely ours.
The feelings that I have for you are not easy to explain
It’s been some time since I've been in this newly loving game
It's all slow moving on now and I really can't explain
The rules that we should follow in this newly loving game.
There is a lack of time for us and some hurt within our hearts
And that got me on to thinking that our paths are really hard.
The time I took to think today was 'bout us being apart
And the way we are beginning yet not knowing how to start.
The feelings that I have now are not easy to explain
It’s been some time since I've been in this newly loving game
It's all slow moving on now and I really can't explain
The rules that we should follow in this newly loving game.
poem by David Keig
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Who to blame for writers block?
Risen up from his cold dark tomb
the malevolent poet is alive again
his evil master has given him power
to confuse poets and bring them pain.
He's invisible to the poets eye
and he doesn't make a sound
his mission is to bring writers block
to all poets everywhere around.
The unaware poet stares at a blank screen
unable to create one single verse
the satanic force takes over his mind
his thoughts go from bad to worse.
The romantic poet thinks about death
his thoughts no longer on love and light
he wants to write about misery and war
and things that go bump in the night.
So the next time you can't write a poem
and your sitting there full of despair
you now know it's not you who's at fault
but it's the evil poet and he's over there!
poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alas, A Bard’s a Bruised Reed!
They make me mad- some people, known/ unknown;
They make me sad- their wiliness / ego;
They’re after money’s comfort on this earth!
Sense/ common-sense are things that’re a dearth.
They know how poets have suffered in life!
They know how poets land in utter strife!
They stay unmoved/ inert- husband or wife:
They wound my heart with words akin a knife.
Oh how I wish I should be, never me!
Oh how I wish I were akin to them;
Yet, I can’t simply change: I’m thus destined;
To Poesy must Bards always well bind.
Poetry isn’t something that pays at once;
It isn’t something that gives plenty returns;
A Poet seeks the truth without/ within;
And Truth is God: God abhors only sin!
Being like earthlings is not always right;
The destiny of world, poets do fight;
Most Bards cannot be dishonest, may be;
Their minds are fixed to Eternity.
And if they change, could they God realize?
Good Bards prefer to be always soul-wise;
And like a phoenix die, again arise;
And show the world to be heavenly-wise!
Oh, one can’t take me for an easy ride;
I can’t my emotions and passions hide;
I can’t live on with ego great and pride;
My thoughts to be aright, God helps decide.
The superfluous from the thing that’s deep;
The virtual/ surreal from real;
The transient from what is permanent;
God help me to know and my soul to keep.
Alas, a Poet is a bruised reed!
His works on earth are immortal indeed;
His heart of love is uniquely his creed;
His mind wants peace and never yearns for greed!
Alas, a Bard’s a bruised reed!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Et tuo...Brutus
et tuo Brutus, my life has been with you
i always stand for you, when ever your in the dark
the dried tears that fall in your cheek, i do remember
that you need me though you did not ask for it. I know
that i've been too honest of what is deep inside of me. thats
because. you are with me every time i am awake,
many time in the past, the joy that we use to do, rekindle in my
soul, a moment where you're one with me. yes! its true that those
are just a passing sense in our eyes. but remember that we always
cease the wind though those thought are just a simple dream of pain the past to mesmerize
loving you is what my heart live, a splendor of the essence of who you are to me. i do love you, even in a time you became Brutus in the solitude of needs that my heart whisper. i too have lapses to take, yet it became the stimulus to make changes in life to take this simple Caesar to stand amidst this chaotic world. let me die in your bosom heart, for you i lay down my life to live... i love you Brutus in my heart.
i love you, a love that no other man i ever shared. today in my repose, would only meant to know you that beyond this moment, is a time to remember that you live in me forever....Brutus
...
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Creativity Continued
The first line of the poetry came visiting one day
And hit me with alacrity and wouldn't go away.
It stayed with me the whole day long, repeating in my mind
And finally, I'm not that strong, I let the verse unwind.
I made some coffee, then returned and read the poem through,
Regretting what I once had spurned and thought of what to do.
How could I make this poem great, transform it, make it shine?
What precious thoughts could I create? I needed help divine.
I bowed my head and simply prayed, for love to lead me well,
Forgiveness for each time I strayed, delayed what I should tell.
The prophet as the psalmist knows the duties I forgot,
The poet must receive his prose, strike while the iron's hot.
Revitalised, with hope renewed, by faith, I wrote once more,
The second verse improved my mood and thrilled me to the core.
Then suddenly, I thought of her, my dream girl long ago
And of true love that once could stir this heart to overflow.
But life goes on, we parted friends, I miss her now and then,
That's how it is when true love ends, but that was way back when.
The third verse shared the love we had, the sweethearts' tenderness,
The magic moments we were glad and thought God chose to bless.
Now all that's left are memories, the fragments of romance,
The peace of mind as tears decrease, no more a second chance.
The poem done and sent by mail, accepted in due course
And published so it told the tale: Two lovers and their flaws.
My broken heart has never healed, through cracks the poems rise,
Like wheat within a farmer's field, they try to touch God's skies,
They blossom in the readers' hearts, they nestle in their minds
And then, not one of them departs, for such as these are signs.
The years bring wisdom, come what may and creativity,
If we but only seize the day, to be what we must be.
For some, romance leads to respect, then children by and by.
In time, they, too, will pause, reflect, create and ask God, 'Why? '
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is No Poem I Can Write
THERE IS NO POEM I CAN WRITE
There is no poem I can write
That can solve the problems of my life-
A poem may save for a moment
Or give hope for a brief time
I may make me believe in myself again
For an instant-
It cannot make money
Or improve the situation
Of those I care about-
It cannot even now
Shake me from my despair
My sense of myself going down
A poem can be only very small help now
Very very small
It cannot even make me wholly believe
In the so- called poem I am writing now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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