Poems from heaven

poems from heaven come to me in my sleep
i awake in the morning and i start to weep.
for in my dreams i see the loved ones who had past
they give me these words which will forever last

you are my child which i gave to the world at birth
i did not know at the time- if and what
your life would be worth.
but i knew in my heart that there was a purpose in your life
now i am in a better existence looking down upon you
and the lord has shown me what you have to do..
you are here to spread the word to all the other poets.
that they could reach more people than they
could ever dare to imagine.

open up your hearts and minds, and let
your loved ones souls with yours entwine.
listen to what they have to say
for with their words, this world
will be a better place.

.these are the poems from heaven of which
i talk about.
and of this i have no doubt.

to all the poets of the world, continue
to spread the words that come into your hearts and minds
for they will be here way beyond our time.
.

.

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The Real Poets

THE REAL POETS

The real poets are few in number and largely known by name
The rest of us are endless frustration in aspiration
Words upon words upon words
Dreams upon dreams upon dreams
Getting and going nowhere forever unheard

The real poets find their anthologized place
And we know them over and over and over again
The rest of us just appear this only once
If we appear at all
And our words and our hearts and our minds
Do not encompass and inspire the endless rereadings
Time and Time’s Wounds make again and again and again

We are once only always forever losts
Nothing will save us
These words too coming in the wake of a long night’s reading
Of the poems of others
Cannot sustain and redeem
Cannot be what they would be
Cannot help and cannot save
Me or you or anyone we love
Even as poetry.

God Who Knows All
And in the End Decides on Everything
Has made us smaller even than the Angels
And our place in the Divine Song
Is not as far as we know
Anywhere heard at all.

Goodbye world
We are going
We have done what we could
We have written and written and written
Oxymandias’ poet will remain
And we will not
The lone and desert sands will stretch away
When we are not even a single grain.

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(Remember poems) Remember the task of the poet remember poets

Your romantic poems
Will gladden hearts
And heal hearts
Your epic poems
Will fill minds
With wonder
And amazement
Your religious poems
Will cleanse spirits
And give hope will provide
Them with reason why they're here
Your poems
Will save souls
And comfort abused souls
The world needs your poems
You need the world's poems
It's a win win situation
We learn from each other
And learning we enrich
The spirit and the soul
It's a win win situation
All the way to self improvement
The closest to God we can come
Brothers
We cannot lose
Sisters
We dare not lose

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Not My Time To Go

lord don't take me away, there are so many things
that i must do and say.
there are so many hearts i've yet to touch
so many dreams that i must go through
before i am able to join you.

they say that life consists of a million steps.
well! i have'nt gotten ther yet.
i still have a ways to climb, before i reach that final step.
where i can finally see, the goals that you have set for me.
the dream i had of touching so many hearts and souls.
i've yet to reach that goal.

lord! this is not my time to go.
i know that i've been moving very slow.
but some things take longer than others.
as you very well know, you took six days
until there was perfection.
so i ask you from the bottom of my heart
to give me another start.so that i can touch the
minds i've missed, and let them feel your heavenly bliss.

give me the insight so that i may see
just what you have in store for me.
if i am here to write your word
then help me so that it can be heard.
let your voice reach the highest peak
so that people will start to seek
the words that you have given to me.
so that their hearts could be set free.
this is all i ask of thee.
but in order for me to do this
it is not my time to go.
so i hope that you'll move slow.

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The Deceased Poets Of Nature

Such beautiful poems to Nature they did write
The poetry we love for to read and recite
May they rest in peace now where-ever they lay
The deceased poets of Nature their poems live today

They glorified Nature and her praises they sung
And though they may be long dead their poems remain young
the poets of the land and the poets of the sea
In their beautiful poetry their greatness we do see

Their poems and their songs I loved as a boy
And their poems and their songs I will always enjoy
The beauty of Nature they did celebrate
And beauty in their words they loved to create.

Great insights of Nature from them we did gain
The beauty of their words with us does remain
We loved them for their poems in decades long gone
The deceased poets of Nature their poems living on.

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Now I Lay Me Down To Weep

now i lay me down to sleep
when the lights go out i begin to weep
i weep because of what i see.
there is anger all around
a gentle heart can't be found.

people bickering and killing one another
for the simplest of things
a chain, a watch, a ring.

hearts are broken-words unspoken
respect has gone out the door
never to return-forever more
the word of god must be spread throughout the world.
and it must start with the youngest boy and girl.

if they are taught when they are young
they'll get to see the sun
the sun that shines so bright
will become their guiding light.

for the adults have lost that sight
and they continue to fight.
love is the key to set our hearts free.

we are blocking the sun with bitterness and hate
let us stop-before it's too late, and open up the floodgates.
of tears that have been locked up within
and take away this sin.

this sin of not letting the children grow up in a world of love
and peace, and of gods love
given to us from up above.

let me put my head down tonight
and know that the world will be alright.

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0005 Totally Boring Poem

I’m totally bored by:


poems that sound like other poems

poems that try to sound unlike any other poems

poets who never take risks

poets who think that taking risks
makes them good poets

poems with 'meaning'

poems with no meaning

poets who slag off other poets
as if that achieves something

poets that tell you that rhyme
is not for an age but for all time

poets that tell you that rhyme is outmoded and boring

poets who think that the poetry of 'the past'
is greater than that of 'the present'

poets who think that the poetry of 'the present'
is greater than that of 'the past'

poems that tell you the poet's the first to discover sex

poets that tell you they’re the best sex you’ll ever have
although you’ll never meet them to find out

poets that tell you they’ve been dumped

poets who've never known love and being dumped

poets who are ambitious

poets who are unambitious

poets who tell you all about higher things

poets who reject higher things

poets who think life’s just a joke

poets who think life’s no joke

poets who sit on the fence

poets who have no sense of balance

poets who despise 'the middle ground'

poets who talk about technique

poets with no technique

poets who just throw down their thoughts

poets who 'work up' their poems to a self-satisfied polish

poets who list what they like (who cares?)

poets who list what don’t like (who cares?)

poets who write about extreme states

poets who think they’re immune to extreme states

poets who tell you why they’re bored

poets who have opinions

poets who seem to have no opinions at all

poets who have boring opinions to air - why choose poetry?

poets who comment on others' poems
as if it's the last word

poets who never bother to comment
on others' poems

poets who don't love poetry passionately

poets who tell you they 'love poetry passionately'

poets who – oh I’m too bored to go on reading this,

how about you?

I suppose you have boring opinions too?

another time perhaps


and oh yes I'm most of all bored by
those who waste their precious time on this earth
being bored


well I feel better for that.

how about you?

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Take Pride My Co Poets

Take pride my co poets and tell what you feel and see
So that your words and life will not just be a memory.
We are speaking for all mankind
So no one has to read between the lines.

We are telling of every persons hopes, dreams
Pains, joy, laughter, isn’t that what we’re all after?
To let the world know what’s in our hearts and minds
Not just one who is standing on the sidelines.

We want the world to hear us
when we scream and holler
And to see us when we cry
to see us when we live
And love us while we die.

We are the voices which could
Not be heard.
We are the tears that forever burn.

We are the music in peoples hearts
We are the abandoned, rejected
Forlorn and forgotten.

We are the children who cry with hunger.
We are the ones who look up to our parents
Because there is no other.

We are the voices of the people
We are the churches, we are the steeples.
We are the ones who scream out their pains
Without a voice, no step do they gain.

WE ARE POETS ONE AND ALL
WE STAND TOGETHER OR WE FALL.

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The New World

The gift and the curse
With this I'm spreading all my messages to the world.
One then the next
Another new pretext.
A systematic absorption through what I read.
Ideas all my own
A conversation with whole world at the same time.
Intriguing this must be to great minds
Imagine Edgar Allan Poe was living today
What would he write about?
Who would he talk too?
Would it be you?
Would it me?
Are you starting to see?
The great minds of the time stand before you.
People all over the world sharing in intellect.
Conversation with people twenty messages long.
This is the new world of the great poets, writers, and authors all rolled into one.

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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?

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After All The Endless Longing To Be Who We Are

IN THE MANNER OF BORGES I WRITE POEMS IN MY OLD AGE

In the manner of Borges I write poems in my old age
And dream that they are not only imitations
Of poems written by others
When we all were young.

Instead I go on now in the darkness of the night
Because the fear of what will be
Is always so deep in me
It does not need Poetry or Happiness or any other Meaning
Outside itself.

We are small sands drifting on the edge of stars
Lesser beings of a time we will never know
All that we have done comes back to us over and over again
As if we never were

I don’t believe I will ever write Borges lines
He wrote them in his own imagined words
And I must in my own little life
Suffer to the end of time
All I have not been
And never will be.

God Who is Good
God of Love
You gave me so much
You did not have to give me Poetry also.


THE REAL POETS

The real poets are few in number and largely known by name
The rest of us are endless frustration in aspiration
Words upon words upon words
Dreams upon dreams upon dreams
Getting and going nowhere forever unheard

The real poets find their anthologized place
And we know them over and over and over again
The rest of us just appear this only once
If we appear at all
And our words and our hearts and our minds
Do not encompass and inspire the endless rereadings
Time and Time’s Wounds make again and again and again

We are once only always forever losts
Nothing will save us
These words too coming in the wake of a long night’s reading
Of the poems of others
Cannot sustain and redeem
Cannot be what they would be
Cannot help and cannot save
Me or you or anyone we love
Even as poetry.

God Who Knows All
And in the End Decides on Everything
Has made us smaller even than the Angels
And our place in the Divine Song
Is not as far as we know
Anywhere heard at all.

Goodbye world
We are going
We have done what we could
We have written and written and written
Oxymandias’ poet will remain
And we will not
The lone and desert sands will stretch away
When we are not even a single grain.


THE WORLD IS FILLED WITH THE ENDLESS SILENCE OF THINGS

The world is filled with the endless silence of things
Dreams in old age are not the dreams of youth – and will never be
Old pain in old bodies stirs the imagination to anger at itself
The history of the universe begins somewhere long before we were born
And when Time ends more Time will not begin elsewhere
Parallel universes pose mathematical riddles to an evidence- hungry horde of physicists who live by supposition alone
And yet underneath it all we are biological beings – brains of our own misperceptions
Clamoring clamoring while on the other side of the moon
The cold goes deeper in us than all the distances we will never reach
Mites and Bites and Little Strings Digital waves and wiry wise things
We are all more than a cave painting with buffalo music beating in the fire
Under the darkness once
When we hunted with small eyes the body’s animal prey
Our spirit said mocking melodies of great and good sounds
Let the Maker of All be One in Love
And less than us may there never be new
The world we love and the people we trust
And the endless game of the transitions
This is a hell of a way to be who we are
And yet some say we are dust more than stars
And under the end of the forever we feel
Only our Names will remain not quite real.


AFTER ALL THE ENDLESS LONGING TO BE WHO WE ARE

After all the endless longing to be who we are
We come in old age to know what we dared never dream
That we as we are are less than we will forever be
And all that we have made is nothing beside
What God alone may make us should God have decided
That we are worth more than the interval here of our own small being
Dust is not enough
And will never be
For what we dream
For those we most love
Bones interred and epitaphs made righteous in stone
Cannot replace the vital thing of each breathing being
So so long ago
I knew when my grandmother died that she Bessie Zeibert- Peshie really- had so much love and goodness she should never be gone
Lost in her very last moments seeking a stolen sweater no one had ever taken
A sixteen year old girl in steerage with her first child who would never marry and live only to help his nephews and niece
God of Love
What are we
So many have died
So many good people
And I here officially an old man yet young enough to begin and thrive again in words
Questioning as I did then and knowing more and no more
We are the end and the beginning of the universe humanbeings kind or unkind
Light too is another name for death when it is forever too strong
I see I feel I know
We are what we are
And You will take us home
In a way we cannot dream now
Something so good as many of us have been
Must never die
And You Alone know how
We will survive
In the endless Infinite Eternity which no one who has ever lived can describe
Or truly understand.

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I Write Poems For Poets

I WRITE POEMS FOR POETS

I write poems for poets
Our situation as poets-
The longings the feelings
We so need to express-
The love of language-
The hunger for recognition-
The frequent rejection-
The kind word of a reader that moves-

Poems for poets
We as we each are
All so different-
And we as we share
Words and worlds
We hope to have read.

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Spread Your Love

R- ray ; a- anita
A: spread your love all over the world now / spread your love all over the world now / a: spread your love all over the world now / spread your love all over the world now
R: delieving in style yeah its me again / tell your boss and tell your friends / about me, cause they keeping you busy, totally wicked and totally busy / lets join hands, it aint to late / le
Eep on focus and concentrate / for the moon, stars, heaven up above / cause the r-a-y spreading of love
A: here we go, dont take it slow / we going up and down and around and around yoll / here we go, dont take it slow / we going up and down spreading our love around yoll
A: spread your love all over the world now / all over the world!! yeah / spread your love all over the world now / all over the world!! yeah
R: come on! spread it, spread it / spread your love, spread your love
A: you gotta spread it / all over the world...!
R: Im all about love, l-o-v-e / life in 95 as you can see / make your hearts glow, feel the love flow / yo! Ive got the globe with the tempo / money cant buy you love that counts / its only
Real when your heart starts to bounce / for the moon, stars, heaven up above / cause the r-a-y spreading of love
A: love is the key, set yourself free / so wont you listen to me, when I say, when I say, that / love is the key, set yourself free / so wont you listen to me, when I say, when I say, that
A: spread your love all over the world now / all over the world!! yeah / spread your love all over the world now / all over the world!! yeah
A: la la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la la / la la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la la
R: l-o-v-e, l-o-v-e
A: spread your love around
A: la la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la la / la la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la la / la la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la la / la la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la
A
A: here we go, dont take it slow / we going up and down and around and around yoll / here we go, dont take it slow / we going up and down spreading our love around yoll / a: spread your love
Over the world now / all over the world!! yeah / spread your love all over the world now / all over the world!! yeah
A:la la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la la / la la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la la
Repeat and fade

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The Lords Words

my words have been written for you to read
in my apostles i've planted the seeds..
read all the words they have to say
don't let anything make you sway.
for tommorrow may be your ' judgement day'.

i was sent to the world by my father
but! not to make man's life any harder.
so that the world could confide in me
and their souls i could set free.

centuries from now this world will be a mess
and your beliefs will then be put to the test.
search your hearts and search your minds
for my words will last untill the end of time.

in the bible my life and words will be found
you just have to turn and look around.
people are turning to me every day
and on their knees they begin to pray.

so when you go to chuch to pray
there should be much for you to say.

pray for peace in this world
and to help the sick and poor
pray for health and jobs
.and then pray for more.

all of this you could ask of me
and of this i shall set you free.

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Untitled 15

there is a mountain of words
an ocean of words
a continent of words

there is a rain of words
a flood of words
a river of words and true to their being words

they also disintegrate as syllables
on the other hand some form the clauses
conditions and terms
some make sentences and paragraphs

a world of words full of words
i am not a word and i am buried in a mountain of words
a sea of words i drown
a continent of words i am condemned to walk all the days of my life

too may words my ears do not listen anymore.
my eyes do not like to read anymore.

i like something not having to do with words.
what about a touch? what about a picture?
what about a kiss?

why don't people just make love without saying a word?
let us start touching the hearts of people
to avoid this war of words that lead us to our own perdition.

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Ella Wheeler Wilcox

In Memoriam

Looking some papers over,
Dusty and dim and old,
I found some words that thrilled me
With their ring of genuine gold-
Words that were better than rubies,
And they stirred me even to tears,
For the hand that wrote them has rested
Under the sod for years.


O name to be spoken softly!
O sainted Thurlow Brown!
The world lost one of its heroes
When he dropped the cross for the crown.
And the cause he loved and fought for
Lost more than my tongue can tell
For he left no soul behind him
That could do the work so well.


When I think of his mighty labors,
My own seem weak and vain,
And I know that his place in the vineyard
Can never be filled again.
But the burning words that he uttered,
Or that dropped like coals from his pen,
Shall live for ever and ever
In the hearts and minds of men.


O God! if spirits do ever
Come down from heaven on high,
Let the spirit of this great hero
Sometimes be hovering nigh;
And give him the power to guide us
In all that we do or say
For the cause he loved and fought for.
Oh! grant it, Lord, I pray.

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My Twenty Lines

I just read this poem about using just twenty lines,
and it brought these words to my mind.
Who are they to tell us how many lines we should use to speak?
This is America where we have a law known as freedom of speech.
Just twenty lines tell you something about my life in words.
To me that seem completely absurd.
My life is much more than just twenty lines.
Hell I am thirty nine.
And if they except me to sum up thirty nine years in twenty lines
They are complete outside their minds.
How am I suppose to tell you how I nearly died when I was child?
Or how my mother harsh words took away my smile:
In just twenty lines?
Like I said they must be out of their minds.
I guest I can do if I shorten my life.
I don't have to talk about how much I love my future wife.
But her love is the inspiration for a lot of my poems.
So to not talk about her would be wrong.
I have a lot more to say but I'm out of time.
I reach my limit of my twenty lines.

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If Tomorrow Never Comes

Sometimes late at night
I lie awake and watch her sleeping
She's lost in peaceful dreams
So I turn out the lights and lay there in the dark
And the thought crosses my mind
If I never wake up in the morning
Would she ever doubt the way I feel
About her in my heart

If tomorrow never comes
Will she know how much I loved her
Did I try in every way to show her every day
That she's my only one
And if my time on earth were through
And she must face the world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past
Gonna be enough to last
If tomorrow never comes

'Cause I've lost loved ones in my life
Who never knew how much I loved them
Now I live with the regret
That my true feelings for them never were revealed
So I made a promise to myself
To say each day how much she means to me
And avoid that circumstance
Where there's no second chance to tell her how I feel

If tomorrow never comes
Will she know how much I loved her
Did I try in every way to show her every day
That she's my only one
And if my time on earth were through
And she must face the world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past
Gonna be enough to last
If tomorrow never comes

So tell that someone that you love
Just what you're thinking of
If tomorrow never comes

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A moment in time...

Imagine if you will a moment in time,
Where euphoria seeps into every corner of your being,
A time devoid of doubt and fear where hope lives eternal,
A time where all the possibilities of life are not tethered by fear,
An absolutely flawless landscape of unlimited potential,
Like you had stumbled into a world of pure and utter perfection,
Where judgement is an alien concept, a world without time it's self,
Now imagine that you could hold that moment for all infinity,
Where the dreams of past, present and future exist as one,
Bathed forever in the soft and pure light of infinate love,
That my friends, is heaven and it does not live in a book,
For the building blocks of heaven can only be found deep within a heart,
When we let go of what we are... We become what we might be...

Spread the love... The peace will follow...

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Poets! Who Are We / Why Do We Write

Is it our sub conscious seeking recognition?
Is it our search for fortune and fame?
Or is it that we enjoy the word game?

For every question there is an answer
And for every answer there is a question.
Who are we that we love to write?

So many reasons and excuses that we use.
Are we going thru this. Or feeling that,
or heard or read something that inspired us.

I have come to my own conclusion
As to what a poet is.
A poet is the dictionary, the encyclopedia of life.
Our poems give words - LIFE, DEFINITION
MEANING, FEELINGS, AND EXPLANATIONS.

Words to us is like food to the stomach
It is taken in, absorbed and then let out
For new food to enter.

For what ever reason that we write
We can or can not touch peoples
Hearts and minds, and we feel a peace sublime.

We become the voices of the voiceless
Who are afraid or too shy to speak.
We become the mothers, father, sisters, and brothers
The lovers, the homeless, and the abused.
But we do not mind being used.

New poets join us every day
From every country in the world
I’m proud to say.

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My Words

Lord let my words
Touch a few hearts, minds and souls
May they open their eyes to your glory
Let them heal the broken, lost and lonely
Inspire their minds to do your work
Return the souls that have wondered away
By showing them that You are always with them
Even when life can seem unbearable
If truely in your HEART you BELIEVE!

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