The We Poem and Other Compositions
We can not be us together.
Whenever the storm begins to break...
You want then to confuse.
Like raindrops in clear sky and bright Sun.
What is going on?
You refuse to be 'we' then.
A beginning of shade comes.
A building of a wall of ice...
Is felt.
You freeze me out!
Your shouts do not warm.
And you feel I should love to lick,
The biting lips of an icicle?
'Do you see...
Kick Me In The Butt,
Written anywhere on my forehead?
And you think that puts me in the mood...
To write a heartfelt sonnet,
Seduced filled opus...
Called 'The We Poem'? '
With sincere eye contact!
We can not be us together.
Whenever the storm begins to break...
You want then to confuse.
Like raindrops in clear sky and bright Sun.
What is going on?
You refuse to be 'we' then.
We can not be 'us' together.
If we can not stop opening the door to exit.
Instead of blocking nonsense from getting in.
Patient I've been.
I know this was no joke the first day we began.
Whenever we get like this...
Don't you see my right eyebrow lift?
Like this! ?
Is there anything familiar with that scene at all?
How about if I stood on the window ledge?
Or if I just sat there singing 'We've Only Just Begun'
In 'G' flat since that's the key you and I sang,
Duets.
I was two inches away from a window leap!
Thatclose from jumping out.
That mouth of yours with cold shoulders...
Fangs exposed,
And your fingernails reminded me of claws...
On moisterized hands.
Baby...
You can be frightening.
But I don't feel why there's a need to run.
'Could you see me writing 'The We Poem'
Running through a darkened tunnel...
Trying to escape from the scent of a lunatic?
I am not that creative!
Trust me.
And I am fearing for my life too? '
Baby...
You just ain't yourself,
This time of the month.
We don't have menstrual periods together.
God did not bring us together to have that experience!
Did He?
I am not that magical.
Not even for you.
But I can't seem to get away from 'that'.
An entrapment that keeps me hooked by magic.
I wish you knew the many moments I cried.
Wondering why I could not find the guts,
To leave you.
I would love to see us get a 'We Poem' done.
To rhyme with lines we recognize and dialogue.
We can not be us together.
Whenever the storm begins to break...
If we do not learn not to hesitate to show,
Steam heat should always be prepared to blow hot...
Dropping it to cool down.
Enough to touch without getting 3rd degree burns.
But you make me wish I had flight tickets.
Or could say, 'Abracadabra! Do me a quick disappearance! '
And I would be safe.
And you would be...
Free of me!
Why can't I find the guts to leave you?
Or write 'The We Poem'
And be done with it?
Why am I the one wanting more not to be 'about' us?
I know I should care.
But I am starting to care less.
Wanting more from you to be a WE, I guess.
Who knows?
I've already thought of other compositions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Cat Poem - with discussion
I must not write a poem
because I want to write a poem.
I must try to write the poem
when the poem has to be written.
Yes but what if my cat dies?
Yes, what if my cat dies
and I know my cat lived a
good and honest life
I can write a poem?
I can can’t I
I can have a cat poem can’t I
Life of an honest cat and that
Yes I know, I said the cat was honest
but I didn’t say that I was, and
I lied about the cat
________________________________
Discussion:
The poem begins as a slightly
finger wagging exercise in telling
people not to write just because
they want to write a poem - it must
be DRIVEN by the poem's insistence
on being written. The poet is
unable to sustain this arrogance
hence the cat. Then, using the
cat as an excuse, writes the poem
but in the end has to admit that
the cat was just a device to break
the rule outlined in the 4 opening
lines. (Secretly of course the poet
believes or at least hopes that the
poem is good enough to excuse itself
and be allowed to break the rule.)
But of course it isn't
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem I Am Writing Now
The poem I am writing now
does not know if it will be finished
it does not even know if it will be a poem -
it is slowly appearing line by line
and making its own meaning on the page-
Is it worth anything?
will anyone care?
I don't know -
The poem I am writing now
is just these lines
and these lines like all lines
are only small words
in a vast universe
that has long lived
and will probably longer live
without them.
Why then write these words now?
The poem I am writing now is saying,
'I am here now'.
But why should this mean anything to anyone else?
The poem I have written here
is not the poem I would have posted here
It is only the poem I am finishing now
a poem without great love or belief in itself.
The poem I am writing now
is written.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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!
The Poem I Did Not Write Today
THE POEM I DID NOT WRITE TODAY
The poem I did not write today
Will never be written.
No one knows what it is
Or where it is
'How it can be? ' is another question
No one can answer.
The poem I did not write today
Never went away
It is always here with me and with you
It is the same simple poem
Written over and over again
In our everyday minds.
It is the poem of love of life
The poem of happiness
The poem of belief in God
And in the goodness in the world to come
It is the poem which believes too that poetry will help save the world.
It is the good poem
The happy poem
The poem I did not write today
Is the poem my life is writing now and always
And with you it says
‘What a miracle it is that we are here
reading and writing
and loving life as we do’.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'd Love To Write A Love Poem For You
I'd love to write a poem for you
Want to make it good
I want it to be romantic
As you might think it should
You're a vision in my head
And I can't believe you're real
You attend the U of Sexuality
And got straight A's in sex appeal
You're as metaphorical as a simile.
And poetic like a rhyme.
I'd like to write a poem for you
Got some better ways to spend my time.
Like to hug you or to kiss you
or to give you a ride
To take you out to dinner
or to please you from inside.
Id like to write a poem for you
but I'd rather not instead
I love to drive you all around
While you are giving head.
I love to please you with my fingers
I love to make you scream
I love to write you poetry
Love to see you when I dream.
I'd like to write a poem for you
a love poem, there's no doubt
I like when there is no one home
And you're free to moan and shout
I like it when you call me names
And even when you're sad
Its me you trust to make you smile
And that just makes me glad
I think you're great I think you're hot
I think you think the same
I think its not a lie to say
We'd win, if love's a game.
I'd love to be near you all the time
but that simply ain't the case,
Can't believe it's been 3 weeks
Since I saw that pretty face
I'd love to have you by my side
As I lay on this bed
I shall have to settle for,
Your image in my head
I can't wait to hold you or
to kiss you with my mouth
My life is tops when with you
And without you headed south.
I'd love to write you a love poem
but I'm afraid it seems like jokes
I know you don't like cholesterol
So for your eggs I'll cut out the yokes
When you and I embrace again
I'll hold you oh so tight,
I'll kiss your every skin cell
I'm gonna love you right
I love it when you use your mouth
Especially when I'm baked
I love to look at your body
Especially when its nake'd
I want you so so badly
I miss you so so much
I want you as my lifeline
I need you as my crutch
I'd love to write you a poem
but I'm scared I'd never stop
So I'll just keep on writing
Until my eyelids drop
And then when I arise
I'll probably write some more
And I'll just keep on writing
Until your at my door.
I'm not sure you'll get to this line,
As this poem is f***in' long
So you don't have to read it,
but I'm picturing you in a thong
It looks so very sexy
As on you all things do,
I really want you here with me
I really love you, too.
poem by Les Wordsmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life Art
Life Art
I want to write you a poem.
One that contains no verses
no words
how long it will be
I cannot tell.
It will be a poem that you can see through
yet it will shade you from the sun
a simple lyric
as complex as a crossword
I want it to be something
that you carry through your day
every day
I don’t know if I can write that poem
Or if indeed that poem can be written at all
So instead I am with you
Of you
And slowly together
we are writing our very own poem
Not on a page
Or in a lost notebook
But in the café
and in the street
At a table
In our bed
Every day we add another line
another image
another verse
and I know that with every word that we write
I want it to be the longest poem
That has ever been written.
poem by Andy Houlihan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Is Just A Poem
a poem is just a poem and if it is just a poem
it must be just a poem just like another poem
a poem is nothing but just a poem otherwise
it cannot be my poem; it may speak about
anything, or something, or about everything,
but my poem is just a poem just like anybody's
poem, which is just but a poem, like any other
poem, for a poem to be a poem it must just be
a poem: it has nothing to do with my love, and death
my life, or bliss, but as i have told you, once, twice
thrice, eat some rice, and be that wise, a poem is
just a poem, just like your poem. Why do you insist
on asking, what is happening to me? I am not a
poem, for i am but just the composer of the poem,
need i tell you again, that a poem is just a poem?
just like any other poem, which is just a poem
it is just a voice in my head that i have heard
someone comes and speaks and i listen so
this poem is not actually my poem but the poem
of someone else's: theirs not mine, from a mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Are Days No Poem Can Be Written
THERE ARE DAYS NO POEM CAN BE WRITTEN
There are days no poem can be written
Grief and worry frighten the poem away
Yet the poem lives hidden
For our darkest moments our loneliest fears
Too need their poetry.
Poetry is a way of saying all we need to say
It is our deepest feeling most deeply expressed
It is all we are
The whole of our being
In words.
When a poet dies
Words die
When I will die
All I am will no longer be able to write
One more poem.
How afraid I am in the night
And how dark in the early morning before I rise
But now that I am here
Writing this
A bit of hope begins in me
And I can dream that
When I walk out the door
a few minutes from now
A new day will begin.
How many days I have left
How many poems to write
I do not know.
It is not light yet
And the darkness is still here
But I will feel the morning again
This morning
Thank G-d
You have given me so many poems.
A few small words
help me believe
I truly am alive.
.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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This is a poem....
This isn't a poem of one direction,
This is a poem about perfection.
This isn't a poem about who won the election,
This is a poem about correction.
This isn't a poem of getting it right,
This is a poem of standing up to fight.
This isn't a poem of being lost like a kite,
This is a poem about trying to find the light.
This isn't a poem of running tears,
This is a poem about chasing your fears.
This isn't a poem of love and hate,
This is a poem of destiny and fate.
This isn't a poem of the end,
This is a poem of a heart unable to mend.
This isn't a poem of cruilty and pain,
This is a poem of a thng i need to gain.
This isn't a poem of shame,
This is a poem of fame.
Thsi isn't a poem of the life i let loose,
THIS IS A POEM OF THE TRUTH.
poem by Tammie LilAimo
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Critiques
when they read your poem
and find some fleas there
and they scratch their heads
like saying: this is bad, this is really bad
and they crumple your poem
and throw it in their waste basket
and they junk the best poem you
have written taking you days and days to revise it
like it is a composition
of another nincompoop. a moron, a lesser kind of
the human being
like a bubble, a bumble, a bum, a belle, a keg,
a piece of feces
a ning nang nang nang
well, write another one.do not ever stop writing.
if you find the one that they have thrown in the waste basket
again, by chance,
redeem it,
take it back and iron out what difference have you
with that critique
(who has not written even a poem for his dog)
have patience. and always remember
you did not write the poem for him
you write it for you and your lover
and your loved one,
and another lover and many more lovers
of life and its
ecstacies
till kingdom come
be patient.
be ever patient.
it is you who has
seen the light. not them.
open another door.
go inside where your lovers dwell.
they will kiss you.
they will clap their hands
and drink beer with you.
and it will be dark again,
and you cannot sleep after you make love.
three times on the floor
and there and then
in your nudity
another voice comes inside your ears
asking that you write
about a floating blue butterfly
looking for the opening
of an orange
flower
another poem shall be written
early morning
be glad
the voice is still there
your shrink may tell you to name the voice.
for he thinks you are schizephrenic
to the max
do not tell him.
it is your secret with God.
be glad.write it.now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Are Those Who Wait Years To Write A Poem
THERE ARE THOSE WHO WAIT YEARS TO WRITE A POEM
There are those who wait years to write a poem
The fruit slowly ripens inside and then as with Rilke
It suddenly falls -
There are those who write a few lines
And come back time after time
And find the poem after many efforts-
There are those who cannot wait to write a poem
And once conscious of it must write it down as fast as possible
Before it is lost-
And there are those who only in the present writing
Find the poem -
The page suffers many methods and modes
But what truly makes a poem worthy
Is another question.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem After Poem After Poem
POEM AFTER POEM AFTER POEM
POEM AFTER POEM AFTER POEM
Poem after poem after poem
But a poem is not the way out.
Money is depleting
Soon I’ll be without.
How will I manage to live then
What will become of us all?
To write a poem is to do nothing
When the writing is on the wall.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Did Your Love For Him Last?
i am just wondering why you do not
write poetry anymore. I am asking myself
if your having jumped over the fence
yielded the bliss on the other side of things.
Are you too happy to forget the sad refrains
of poetry?
or Are you too sad
mourning over another
love lost
that your hands are too weary
to write another love poem for this
valentine's day?
whatever happened, please write me a love poem
sad or happy, please do write me one
i just want to know what a love poem should be all about
after all those years
when we think we really found the true one.
write me, please a love poem, show me the color
and scent of each word, show me the texture of each line,
show me whether the heart is bleeding
or leaping with joy like the one we used to write before together
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Winter Poem Is A Cold Poem
THE WINTER POEM IS A COLD POEM
The winter poem is a cold poem
It is a poem seeking warmth
It wants to feel a comfort
In being at home
But the cold is deep
And so dark
And the pain so rigid in its breaking
That no light can heat it
And no sun can thaw it
And nothing not even the bright blue skies of another time
Can make one forget it.
The winter poem is a hard poem and a cold poem
And the soul of that poem is as loveless as death.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is My Poem
This is my poem of ______. (date)
This is my poem, written by myself.
This is my first poem never written.
This is my last poem now to be written.
This is the poem I would have written
if I had lived yesterday what I lived today.
This is my poem changing white light
into gold-leaf
and blue into violet.
This is my poem like a heaven twisting
and turning inside of me
all night long.
This is my poem of opening a window
to show what was always inside.
This is my poem encompassing everything
hope can bestow or chance agree with.
This is my poem of open-ended freedom.
This is my poem breathing life into motion.
This is my poem written as I wrote it
a living being.
And this is my poem ending;
but only for today..
poem by Patti Masterman
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Your Dog Dies
it gets run over by a van.
you find it at the side of the road
and bury it.
you feel bad about it.
you feel bad personally,
but you feel bad for your daughter
because it was her pet,
and she loved it so.
she used to croon to it
and let it sleep in her bed.
you write a poem about it.
you call it a poem for your daughter,
about the dog getting run over by a van
and how you looked after it,
took it out into the woods
and buried it deep, deep,
and that poem turns out so good
you're almost glad the little dog
was run over, or else you'd never
have written that good poem.
then you sit down to write
a poem about writing a poem
about the death of that dog,
but while you're writing you
hear a woman scream
your name, your first name,
both syllables,
and your heart stops.
after a minute, you continue writing.
she screams again.
you wonder how long this can go on.
poem by Raymond Clevie Carver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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