Portrait in profile only
How clear a portrait of you
that he painted – that slight stoop
of backbone; life has been heavy on you, yet
has not worn you down; the shoulders say,
I’m weathering it; the hair drawn back, and
tidy; time’s not for wasting on your hair;
your gaze, I guess, is straight ahead;
those lines around the corners tell us that;
you promised that you’d sit for him;
but when time’s up, you know exactly
then what’s next to do.. you’re living here,
you’re human; and we care…
and yet… and so… and yet…
I want to look into your eyes;
I want to know, what do you think of him,
the one who paints this poem about one
who may, may not, be you…
what do you think? Do you think this is you?
Does this surprise you, tell you
who you are, or who you might still be?
I’m greedy for the truth always –
Lady – wife, mother, aunt, good friend,
stranger from across the street,
paragraph in the novel of his life –
I’m holding back a world of love,
it only needs a glance from you..
tell me, why does his poem
only paint your sideview? Whose eyes were missing
when he wrote of you?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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!
Lovely Laras
I exclaimed it as "saras, saras, and saras"*(beautiful)
She is my new friend Laras, Laras, Laras
She smiled back as I had promised
To write a poem on her and surprised
May be all good people are having same smile
To look at them inadvertently for a while
How can one look adult also and at the same time so innocent?
I saw it on her face very much present
She seems to be nice personality
A rare combination of human quality
Religious, pious as well as firm believer
In almighty for ever and forever
Her eyes are straight and piercing
Quiet intriguing and menacing
As if asking from a stranger
How one can well manage over anger?
Head is rested over hand
Thinking how to act and become friend
How to put trust on a man
Even though we need to trust as human
I am poet and know the face lines
It may deceive number of times
Yet I see in her as good humorist
Not only good human being but hidden artist
She has every reason to be good
As she has been blessed with food
It is said" good thoughts emerge from grain you eat"
So is the thought and you meet the good fate
You are never put into trouble
Your life journey is smooth and without struggle
You can smile for self and for others
As almighty has shower on you and orders
I would love to have those kinds of eyes
Which may speak without any specific try?
Normal people are afraid and feel shy
But here I need not ask any question for why
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0371 Reading behind the lines
So if it makes you feel great,
OK, go ahead -
as long as you're making yourself more attractive
for me, not your next husband...
OK, look like Anne Robinson if you must;
yes, she is great seen full-face, I grant
but now she's got no profile
to match those wit-sharp comments
to a sideways glance...
and yes, it's blushingly well-known
than a man can't even recognise his own wife in a crowd
if she's had her hair done in the interim...
so who am I - except the one who loves you
like the supper we've had every week
since we were courting? ...
but let me just say this:
I who have loved you
in my quiet way
like a favourite book (now, where did I put it? ...)
love those fine lines, that time and - we - have etched;
we men, surprise, are something of a connoisseur of lines:
the lines that cross your forehead: there, because
you're just so silly about not being seen by other men
with spectacles on your nose -
as if that told strange men
a lie and not the truth...
if they were lines of worry, anxiety, failure -
they'd be my responsibility, not yours...
and then the lines around the mouth:
that's a national thing in part -
it's well known that American women
welcome you with open mouth;
(and teeth! ...pearls? more like spotlights...) but
Europeans greet you with a smile of eyes;
(and there are cruder analogies I'll leave unsaid) :
so look carefully, man,
those smile-lines - a little forced;
or natural?
accommodating show-biz whopping tooth-caps?
upward and sweet-natured? or that downward turn
that bespeaks a critical mind you might come home to every night?
then the lines under your eyes - none of my business, those:
that's a matter of heredity or, OK, cosmetic surgery...
please yourself, my darling;
you've bags of skin, I've bags of money. That was a joke.
but the lines around the sides of your sweet eyes -
ah, how I love those...
the European smile that makes a man's heart melt;
'crow's feet' indeed! there's written, years of happy life,
and children, friends; the world itself
in those sweet lines...
' In those dear lines, my love, your soul is caught;
Your soul; my life; without them I am aught.'...
OK go ahead, spend my money if it makes you happy -
you know I'll always go along with you...
(I don't know yet, how I'll respond
at parties now when carefree younger men
give you that searching glance that chancers give...)
But please, I beg of you, don't ask your surgeon
with his character-erasing tools
to take away those lines around the corners of your eyes,
that smile at me
from a lifetime that's been shared.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem As Conversations
a poem for ramona
and a poem for jean and a poem for candice
and a poem too for yuri
and a poem too for emma and another poem for hannah
and another poem for allan
and the rest of the clan
they are but
conversations sticking to my mind
and through these poems
i replay them
and you think these are not poems at all
precisely, these are conversations of the living
the living word
the word that still cohabits with us
we let them out from our mouths
but you do not wish to recover them
did you mean them all to be said
with the terms and conditions of truth?
i am recording them
and i am replaying them through these lines
i look where truth
lies
i find some and keep them
and these are these
on these lines
a poem for you a poem for the world that we all make
what we say is what we get
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Weep I Weep - For The Lost Poem!
I weep I weep - for the lost poem!
I wrote it in the night
I wrote it in despair
When to my beating mind
There was no light.
I lament for the lost poem!
Was it torn? If no, where lies it?
I wrote it in despair
And now like a lost sheep
I fetch it.
How time passes!
How the black hair
To more graying hair
Will turn!
And in the meantime
My poem my lost poem
I rue.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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For Joan Crammond
You told me last year - in between
doing all you could for others
in your state and at your age -
(and that meant working dawn to dusk, at least -
as you had done most of your life)
that you were 'tidying up'
so that your family would have least work
to do themselves when you'd passed on
And so, as just reward, death came to you
tidily,
neatly, smoothly, in your own tidy room
Just a few weeks ago,
when you had done a kindness
spreading word of my poetry,
I sent you a poem on
'A Reminiscence of a Great Lady'
and to my surprise, not just, from you,
a kind and tidy, just response,
but you were deeply stirred
Did you read in it, the great lady
whom we both had known and loved?
Was it what you'd always hoped to be?
Or did you recognise yourself in it - in full?
No need now to question.
No need, anyway; the difference
is not important in eternity.
Not so important as
a tidy, outward life. So,
that poem and now this
to you, for you
poem by Michael Shepherd
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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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The World Is a Poem
Scrutinize around you and see poem
See poem in the air
See poem in the sky
See poem in the sea
See poem in plants
See poem in man
See poem from man
See poem in his eyes
See poem in his love
See poem in life
See poem in death…
Now what is a poem?
Poem is nature
Nature is the world
And The world is a poem.
poem by Chinonso Uche
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Painting From Memory
what could be more noble
than a son to paint a canvas
a portrait painted with years
of love heartfelt appreciation
a portrait of a beloved mother
lines of deep love appreciation
beauty bestowed upon mother
her face eternally young loving
you were extremely blessed
to have the love and discipline
of a wonderful caring mother
a mother among all mothers
radiant smile smiling as you smile
holding comforting ever loving
good fortune is having such a mother
a great blessing wonderful wise
a love like this is comfort blessing
during all the lived days of our life
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The poem
I wrote a poem that didn't
ryhme,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme to the one I love,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme to the one I love
more than life,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme to the one I love more than life,
of which she did more than like,
the poem was short,
repeated myself alot,
but the one I loved more than life,
felt that love is like the poem I wrote,
full of joy and full of hurt,
the poem I wrote when I was full of hype,
coz the one I loved more than life is the one that now fills in my life all gaps,
the one that brings me up when am down,
a smile on my face from a frown,
music to my ears when we talk,
love in my heart when I'm near,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme for the one I love more than life.
poem by Kennedy Musyoka
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A Ode Poem To You
My mother gave me an ode poem, oh how I love that poem
The scene of her perfume on it, the picture of me in her arms
This letter I keep with me all the time, I love it so much I sleep with it under my pillow
To her nice hand writing, to the black ink she wrote in, she wrote until her ink went low
My poem is great, my poem is wonderful, to the white paper she wrote on it’s beautiful
To the green words of the title, my poem she gave me is the best
I love how she gave the lip stick print on the top of my poem, sad to say she's at rest
I will always love the poem she gave to me before she passed
To the words in the poem she gave me will always endure
Word by word my lovely poem is speaking to me gratefully
This ode poem was from my mom and for only me sincerely
I love my poem, oh how wonderful it can be
Its so wonderful do you want to read,
Take a look, take a look and you will see
poem by Twilight Simmons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Missed You
Every time I close my eyes,
I'm taken back to where we were,
Through the pain and loneliness,
I think of how much I Love You
Life in Paris is fast-paced,
It can swallow you up before you know it,
Life with her was beautiful,
But now only memories will show it.
I'm missing you Lish,
Missing the hot tubs,
Missing the curdles,
I'm missing you Candy
Missing the back rubs,
Missing the best
...friend a person will ever have,
...girl that a guy could ever Love.
poem by Daniel Aryee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Got To Go Back
When I was a young boy
Back in orangefield
I used to gaze out
My classroom window and dream
And then go home and listen to ray sing
I believe to my soul after school,
Oh that love that was within me
You know it carried me through
Well it lifted me up and it filled me
Meditation contemplation too
Chorus:
Oh weve got to go back
Got to go back
Got to go back
Got to go back
For the healing go on with the dreaming
Well theres people in the street
And the summers almost here
Weve got to go outside in the fresh air
And breathe while its still clear
Breathe it in all the way down
To your stomach too
And breathe it out with a radiance
Into the nightime air
Weve got to go back etc. etc...
Got my ticket at the airport
Well I guess Ive been marking time
Ive been living in another country
That operates along entirely different lines
Keep me away from porter or whiskey
Dont play anything sentimental itll make me cry
Ive got to go back my friend
Is there really any need to ask why
Weve got to go back etc. etc...
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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I Wrote This Poem And That Poem And Another Poem Again
I WROTE THIS POEM AND THAT POEM AND ANOTHER POEM AGAIN
I wrote this poem and that poem and another poem again
The world of poetry was open to me
And I could go on and on in it
It was a dream come true
A world which opened when I moved through it
A place I wanted to be
A place of beauty and peace and spirit and imagination
A good good place
The world of poetry was open to me
And as I wrote my way through it
I felt God had given me a gift of life
And I should at least know enough to be grateful for it-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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God's Poets A Good Poem & Love
GOD'S POETS
The prize jewels of any nation
Are the philosophers of the heart.
How they think is universal
For it's God who makes them so smart.
Most poets tell the truth of life
Though they may wrap it in beauty.
It's their passion, not their purpose
To compose is but their duty.
Poets have no reason to lie
When the truth is always so clear.
All that others say and do
Is but food for the poet's ear.
One merit of a poet's work
Which most cannot deny.
They say more and in fewer words
To illuminate you and I.
God sent His poets down to earth
With words of wisdom and of worth.
That they might touch the souls of men
And bring them back to Him again.
A GOOD POEM
A good poem paints a picture
For both your heart and brain.
It doesn't need a second chance
To make its meaning plain.
A good poem is like the flower
The lily or the rose.
God plants it in a poet's brain
And there its beauty grows.
A good poem like a cardinal
Is pregnant with song
You can't help but hear its message
As it sings what's right or wrong.
A good poem helps us remember
What the joys of life are for
It makes us want to love someone
Till death comes knocking at our door.
I Lost The Poem I Wrote In My Mind
I LOST THE POEM I WROTE IN MIND
I lost the poem I wrote in my mind
When walking to Shul this morning-
I can only try to recall its thoughts;
‘Walk too fast and the mind cannot hear itself
Walk slowly and listen to the poem inside yourself.
The road ahead the trees the sky
Has a beauty too great for you to write
Thank God for your sight.”
The best lines are forever gone-
A poem to replace a poem
Is not as good as the original-
I wish I had the words for all the beauty God gives me in my life
How wonderful it is to be alive- sometimes
And to be able to write poems – even if somewhat poorly.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love You
When I was younger man I hadn't a care
Foolin' around, hitting the town, growing my hair
You came along and stole my heart when you entered my life
Ooh girl you got what it takes wanna make you my wife
Since then I never looked back
It's almost like living a dream
And ooh I love you
You came along from far away and found me here
I was playin' around, feeling down, hittin' the beer
You picked me up from off the floor and gave me a smile
You said you're much too young, your life ain't begun, let's walk for awhile
And as my head was spinnin' 'round
I gazed into your eyes
Ooh I want you
Thank you girl for being a friend
And shinin' your light in my life
'cause ooh I need you
As my head was comin' round
I gazed into your eyes
And thought ooh I want you
Thanks again for being my friend
And straightenin' out my life
'cause ooh I need you
Since then I never looked back
It's almost like livin' a dream
Ooh I got you
If ever a man had it all
It would have to be me
And ooh I love you
song performed by by Nine Days
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Every Time There Is A Poem
FOR EVERY TIME THERE IS A POEM
For every time there is a poem
And for every season also
For life there is a poem
And for the end of life
For what we love and what we hate
For what we are and what we are not
For our vanity and for our most caring love
For our goodness and for our failings in goodness
For what is and what is not
For what was and what will be
For all things and times and seasons
There is a poem –
But perhaps
Beyond what our mind and reason can know
There is a time too
When no poem
However good or great or wise
Can speak of what we feel-
No poem as deep as the silence of Awe
And Gratitude to G-d.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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