A very short poem
Some poems can be short
while others can be long
they can be very funny
and have words spelt wong.
Poems can be about life
or a favourite family pet
they can be about dying
but I'm not ready for that yet.
This poem is only short
just like a bonsai tree
I'm going to end it now
as I'm gagging for a cup of tea!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Related quotes
Time for a short poem
Short poems are great
they don't take very long
as they're only a few verses
the words won't be spelt wrong.
They can be about anything
as long as they rhyme
and because there short
it don't take much time.
This one isn't about much
in fact nothing at all
the reason it isn't long
is because I'm off to the Football.
So that's the end of this poem
as I'm now off to the match
but before the game kicks off
time for a few beers and a batch!
poem by Kevin Halls
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18 Definitions Of A Short Poem
1) A short poem
Saves time,
2) A short poem
Saves time
For its reader, also.
3) A short poem is over
Before its read.
4) A short poem
Can be swiftly reread.
5) A short poem
Is a lightning flash.
6) A short poem
Is one metaphor only.
7) A short poem
Is less than nine words.
8) A short poem
Opens ones eyes
In the morning.
9) A short poem
May be a short prayer.
10) A short poem
May be a poem of a single word.
11) Poem.
12) A short poem
A small play on words.
13) A short poem
May be a single sentence.
14) A short poem is shorter
Than the definition of it.
15) It breaks up the icy sea within.
16) A chill down the spine.
17) There is no end
To making definitions of the short poem.
18) A short poem in Hebrew
Is shorter than than the same poem in English.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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All I Can Do Now Is Write Another Poem
All I can do now is write another poem-
The poems are small,
And do not require the long hours and long years
Of the books-
Like the world as a whole
I seem to have a shorter attention span
And less patience-
A poem can be written and given a name
In minutes not years-
Though some would say a great poem
Takes the travail of years of waiting
And years of work-
But I did not say
‘All I can do now is write another great poem'
Perhaps I have in all the years of the nights never written one-
I can write the poems I write
My kinds of poems
In a fairly short time-
All I can do now
Is write another of my kind of poems-
Whether they be worth anything,
Or not.
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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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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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 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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There Was A Poem Long Ago
THERE WAS A POEM LONG AGO
There was a poem long ago
A poem of youth and hope
Now there are other poems
Poems of age and sorrow.
There was a poem once
Of love – and happiness in love
Now there is a poem of lovelessness
And sadness.
There was a poem once
Of the long and distant open road
Now there is a poem of the dead end.
There was a poem once
That believed in Poetry
Now there is a poem that knows
Even the most beautiful worlds of words
End in dust
There was a poem once – long ago.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Show Tune II
That's the long and short of it
now you know
how I've been waiting all these years
where I'm coming from
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you see
just how hot hot jazz was
how it turned about, my bookcase
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you know
that my arrest record's
not my best record
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you see
how the Past's like a love
you can neither leave nor live
that's the long and short of it
That's the long and short of it
now you know
it was no gun in my pocket
it was a rocket
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
and you're wond'ring dear
how I kept so pure
hull, it was easy
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you see
so bounce your head
into bed
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
read the blues
in these tattoos
make a song of it
that's the short and long of it.
How I wish
there was a bridge-
then I could burn it;
or the train
of a refrain
then I could board it
but there isn't
no there isn't, so...
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Oh The Poems
OH THE POEMS AND THE POEMS AND THE POEMS
Oh the poems and the poems and the poems
Oh the love of Literature
Oh all that stuff
I have given my life to-
Words and meanings and feelings
Pages and pages and pages –
What it is all this literary life for?
When out the window out the door
With our eyes we see in an instant other worlds other dreams?
I don’t know and I will never know
And Literature is certainly far more than I can say it is-
Oh the poems and this poem and this day turning grey
And all my life old and old and more old and more old-
Oh why oh why oh why
And always back to God
My last rescue and refuge and escape
I who have read so much Great Literature
And can only write this-
Oh the why and the oh oh oh and the words
And the whole world of Literature
I would belong to and do not.
Oh the words oh the world oh the Literature
Oh God help me please can’t you please help me a little or not?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Have Written Many Poor Poems
I have written many poor poems
That may not be poems at all -
They are single in dimension
Prose
In short lines of seemingly poetic form-
They do not call for their rereading
They are not difficult in ambiguities-
They seem to me only one simple clearly understood thing-
Like this poem
They can be understood at once
And forgotten soon after.
I have written many poor poems
That may not be poems at all
And this is another one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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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Poems Poems
poems poems every where does any one care
poems are your life but do you include them
poems may seem silly but there a great part of life
so say a poem write a poem listen to a poem be the poem
poem by Samantha Thuringer
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Like So Many Poems I Read
LIKE SO MANY POEMS I READ
Like so many poems I read
These poems I am reading now
Are not poems to me.
They are too detached
Too abstract
Too up in the air.
I want to hear the words
Make a music of feeling
In my soul.
A poem must move me
If it is to be real.
Why then do I write these words
as if a poem?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Hats off to Leprous!
Almost all of us
are hagiographers
while judging poems.
But my friend Leprous
has offered his nice remarks
to my poem on the Versifier.
In my dreams and elsewhere
When I am going,
his words flash in my mind,
making me laugh aloud
and people look at me askance.
I try to recall short maxims
for replacing his words but fail.
Those who shed tears in all of your poems,
ask him please to comment.
And you will be smiling for ever!
----------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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I Am Tired Of The Word 'Poem
I AM TIRED OF THE WORD ‘POEM’
I am tired of the word ‘poem’
‘Poem’ ‘poem’ ‘poem’ ‘poem and ‘poem’ again
Weren’t there stars before there were poems?
And won’t there be light somewhere else
when no one has words to say?
And in all the great Silence before and ever after
won’t there be the being of something real however unsaid and unknown?
And won’t ‘Poem’ and ‘poems’ too like all of us
Cease one day to be and never again know that they are?
All the immortals are mortal and their poems too
Silence before and Silence after
And no words forevermore.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem The Poem And The Poem Again
The poem the poem the poem again
Rescues me from despair
Gives me hope in a short time
That I am alive again.
The poem the poem the poem-
What would my life be without these poems now?
Where would I search for meaning?
Where would I find again and again
The courage to begin
The courage to end?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Words say so much
Words are everywhere you look
in the paper and in the book
we all use them when we speak
in languages like French and Greek.
A baby uses them to speak to it's Mum
that's why she knows it wants talc on it's bum
but teenagers say words we don't understand
and singers sing them like Elvis and Streisand.
People lose their temper and shout and cuss
like when they stub a toe or miss a bus
that's when swear words can be heard
words you won't find in the Times crossword.
Someone who's drunk will talk in a strange way
these words can be heard in pubs on a Saturday
there's short words, and some which are long,
and some words that are nearly always spelt wong.
But that's enough words for now I'll put down my pen,
it's the end, over, ceased, finished, stopped, AMEN.
poem by Kevin Halls
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I was gagging on poetry
was gagging on poetry
And nothing could help:
I was gagging on poetry
So they let me lay my head
On Emily's desk
And her inkwell spilled.
I was gagging on poetry
And they covered me up
With Whitman's army blanket
On which I promptly threw up.
I was gagging on poetry
And the Poet Laureate
Sent me a get well bouquet
Of forget me knots.
I was gagging on poetry
And all my poems
Kept getting rejected
For Selective Service.
I was gagging on poetry
And they performed
The Heimlich maneuver
And up came
Twelve autobiographical
Sketches of poets
Thirteen anthologies
Three missing manuscripts
Two thesaurus books
One rhyming dictionary
And my good luck eraser.
poem by Patti Masterman
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I Got An Email Today
I got an email today
It said an old friend of mine
Had died today
God had drawn the line
And his weary body
Was finally ready to cross
His family is at a loss
But just maybe
His spirit is ageless
I got an email today
It made me think of tomorrow
And to reflect back at the time borrowed
What would you do
If the doc told you
Your time has grown short
Get your life in order
And say your goodbye's
To your husband or wife
Say your goodbye's
To your kids
When they were your life
I got an email today
It told me life is too short
Too short to sit back to waste
poem by Pookey's Poems
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