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Old Age Remembered

I never thought it would happen to me…
so, I wouldn’t have been reading this poem…

but now it seems it has. And now
I’m writing it. Or trying to. Big mistake?

So do I have
anything worth passing on?

You know, the Polonius Balonyus stuff:
If I were your age, boy,

this is what I’d be and do, yawn zzzz….
Let’s think instead, of some more lively head

in Sunday supplement style –
‘Old Age – Tragedy or Comedy? ’

It’s just so personal, and the only one
to really weigh it up is you. Or me.

I’m wiser, happier (on the happy days)
than ever in my life; but then, who cares?

Well, maybe one or two. On the other hand,
there are few illusions left;

would one have been glad
to have no illusions, at, say, twenty years of age?

Or, to be almost beyond pain, or pleasure,
or attachments of any sort -

this in some young man
taking his vows as monk,

would be a solemn commitment for a lifetime; but
when you’re old – easier or harder then to bear?

then, short-term memory shorter, long-term memory longer -
that's wonderful - provided you have no regrets...

the memories come flooding back
of just how happy, happy childhood is...

barely remembered now, how adolescence
is the most painful time of life...

To cut a long life-story short –
the comedy’s more comic; the tragedy’s more tragic.

So I wonder how Shakespeare, having studied both
and then thrown his books away,

living a comfortable (or was it?) Stratford retirement -
a spot of bowls, a friendly pub,

grandchildren, his or of his relatives,
to keep him young or tire him out or both -

I wonder what passed through his worldspanned mind
as he passed passing time? As his time passed?

poem by Michael Shepherd
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I have wisdom

I have wisdom
I am writing poem.

I am not a child of market
I am not calling you to gossip
I am not writing a poem
To divert your attention
From main point of discussion.

I am writing poem for you
And you are reading my poem
With full seriousness.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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They Say It Is My Brain That Is Writing This Poem

THEY SAY IT IS MY BRAIN THAT IS WRITING THIS POEM

They say it is my brain that it is writing this poem-
They can see areas of it shutting down
And others lighting up more intensely,
As the words come down-

But I know it is me who is writing this poem
And my brain is only ‘part' of who I am
Whatever that means.

I am writing this poem
And you are reading it
And we are human beings
Aren't we?

poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
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The Writing Of The Poem/ Seems

THE WRITING OF THE POEM /SEEMS

The writing of the poem
Seems to be more to me
Than its reading.

I do not savor as I should
Each poem.
I do not wait with it long enough
And work on it long enough
And memorize it
Into precious possession.

Too many poems
Kill the singular poem
And as I write one more
I regret
How soon
I will forget it.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem About The Poem

The poem about the poem
And what is a poem?
And what is a poet?
And will the poem
Save me?
Help you?

And is writing the poem
The best I can do?
Or is it only words and more words?
Is the poem about the poem
For the poet only?
Or for each one reading and speaking and hearing it?

The poem about the poem
On this sunny spring Jerusalem morning
Peace and happiness in me -
The poem about the poem
For now.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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With All The Reading and Writing I Do

With all the reading and writing I do
With all the work of the mind and heart
There comes a time
It can be any time
There comes a time
When the Poem must enter-

The Poem?
The deeper feeling-
The Music of the soul-
What I most need to say inside
The Writing which somehow surpasses all the other
In its inner intensity in its deepest feeling –

I write a poem now
All my heart mind soul
Go into every word and phrase.

The Poem? The Poem?
For which I write to live
And which through writing
I most live in Writing-
The Poem that this is.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
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Not The Poem Then

NOT THE POEM THEN

Not the poem then
Although it can be the poem
Writing
Simply writing
This is the duty and the meaning
And the release from meaninglessness
And the ‘enabling me to go on’
The poem is only one form of it
It is the writing which matters
My life has been this
This writing
Even if it is a poor poem now
As I write these words
I live.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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0377 Should be, but

I should be writing a poem
about those small wisps of white cloud
moving unusually fast across a blue blue sky
on their way to somewhere else
as if they're late for an appointment.

I should be writing a poem
about the way the breeze is so gentle
that it seems to have a secret plan with the sun
and the new green leaves
to do something quite extraordinary.

I should be writing a poem
about the way that the trailing geranium leaves
are giving out a scent more white than green
more heavenly than any thought.

I should be writing a poem
about the way that the purple and blue and yellow and white flowers
seem to say nothing but beauty.

I should be writing a poem
but all I can do is gaze in amazement
at what I've seen before
and never seen before.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Writers Block

He was going to write a brilliant poem
probably the best one he'd ever done
but when he sat down at his desk
the inspiration just wouldn't come.
No matter how hard the poet tried
to get some ideas down onto the page
nothing worth writing about arrived
leaving him on the verge of rage.
Then an Eureka moment hit him
while listening to the ticking of the clock
he'd write a poem on the frustration
of that dreaded writers block.
He ended up writing five verses
about a poets worst nightmare
when your wanting to write a masterpiece
but end up pulling out your hair.
So the moral of this poem must be
that writers block isn't so bad after all
as you can use it as a poetry subject
instead of sitting there staring at the wall!

poem by Kevin Halls
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Before I Sleep Tonight

i have written many poems
and you have been reading
perhaps all of them and you
even remember what i have
written and left there, i always
tell you i am busy, for i am,
doing anything, reading and
writing each poem, each
feeling, but before i sleep
tonight, as i will write this as
my last poem, let me tell you
given the choice between
poetry and you, you know too
well, that i will choose you.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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How to write a Poem?

Must I know what I write down
Meaningless or meaning found
Making poem, don’t know how
Must I know what I write down

Does a poem need to breathe
To plan a knit into a weave
Or can it start not to conceive
A poemed haze is free to breathe

Writing breath from writing down
The poem tilts as I think now
Bias nature changing how
The poem writes, still writing down

No thought, no poem, here with me
Should I stop or let it be
Bleeding brain, becoming free
Rereading, learning, me for me

poem by Paul Moosberg
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A Poem

i like to read your poem
and i like to say it is a poem
there is a difference
of course
between the two statements
i like to read
it is your poem but i may
after reading
that
saying that i am honest though
and can distinguish a poem
from one that is not a poem
that your poem is one that i only
like to read
and may
say that it is not your poem
but it is yours you are sure of that
but what i am saying is that
i am reading your poem
but i feel that it is not
a poem after all
i can say one when i read one
so i just say i like reading your poem
which could not really be a poem
not even prose
i just like it
but it is not anything about what
i feel i like it to be
a poem or prose
i am reading it, it isn't
like this one for instance
you know that
now.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I'm Not Writing A Poem Today

I'm not writing a poem today, don't feel like writing,
Instead I'll watch soaps today, while nail-biting.
I'm not writing a poem today, I'm just going to sleep soon,
Instead I'll later wake up and look at the white moon,
I'm not writing a poem today, I'm just going to be sad,
Instead I'm going to search for something else that makes me glad.
So peace be unto anyone that reads the letter here,
For I am not writing a poem today, just going to get a beer.

poem by Chad Fisher
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Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.

quote by Benjamin Franklin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Only Poem Is The Poem/ At The Moment Of Its Writing

THE ONLY POEM IS THE POEM

The only poem is the poem
At the moment of its writing
The poem being lived now
The poem I am trying to make
The poem of these lines.

The only poem now is this one-
And this poem is so small and so self- reflexive
That it is not much of a poem at all.

The only poem is not much of a poem at all
This one
And me now? .

But what about everything else I have not done?

poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
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I Never Thought Of This Poem

I never thought of this poem
It strolled into me, vividly
Forcing and obliging me
It urged me on despite resistance
I never thought of this poem

I never thought of this poem
It possessed and subdued me
It never left me alone, in peace
I could no longer resist its force
I never thought of this poem

I never thought of this poem
I gave in to it, to its wishes
I wrote it, I read it
It came out of me, liberating me
I never thought of this poem!

Huyton, Liverpool, UK
Wednesday,22nd April,2009

poem by Isaac Maliya
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I Am An Old Man Writing A Poem

I AM AN OLD MAN WRITING A POEM

I am an old man writing a poem
I have been writing a poem all my life
The lines seem somewhat blurred now
But what I have written
Will say I hope
Something of what we are
And what we have been
And what we will be.

I am an old man still writing a poem
And I love with all my heart all those
Who have lived their lives-
in one way or another – with me
I do not know how to thank you-
I write these lines to thank you
And pray for the goodness and blessing
Of your lives and the lives of those you love-
And will love-
Now here
And in all your time to come.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem I Am Writing/ Goes With Me Everywhere

THE POEM I AM WRITING/ GOES WITH ME EVERYWHERE

The poem I am writing
Goes with me everywhere
It is my life-
I cannot be without it-
I walk
And I feel
The poem comes to me
As the world does-
Outside and in-
Wherever I am
The poem is with me
And I am alive with it.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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