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0424 Walking together

When you arrive, ring then knock,
we talk a little and I can feel
you think perhaps you ought to say
how’s the poetry going then

but the silent note’s just a little
out of tune so I say
let’s go for a walk
the park’s quite near

so we walk out, the street is quiet
except for the house
where only last Saturday
the two sons were stabbed many times
hauled out of a white Mercedes van
in a gang related crime unquote

the house guarded by expressionless men on cellphones
born into a cycle of poverty, easy money and revenge, then
on to the park, the walkers, the cyclists,
the football players, the tennis players,
the lake, the dogs, the ducks, the rowers,
the flowers, those who sit and watch

this is in place of my poem
this is my poem this walk
a way of saying I hope
you share all the world with me

and all the emotions, all the thoughts
that arise from it, all we see
every moment whoops careful now as the boy
on the unsteady bicycle nearly hits us both

and back past the house of death
where the men stare at us as if
we are some yet unidentified enemy
in a war they won’t admit to

this is in place of my poem
this is my poem this walk
a way of saying I hope

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Poem

THIS POEM

This poem
This first poem
This last poem
This poem that invented Poetry
This one and only one poem
This fictional poem
This ideal poem
This perfect poem
This would – be holy poem
This unreal poem
This poem which is not a poem
This poem which is the essence of all poetry
This poem
And that poem
And my poem
And your poem
And all poems
Poem poem poem poem poem
This poem
Mine and yours
This one small poem of so so many
And not such a good poem at all.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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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To William Carlos Williams, sorta

I would talk to you
of shadows cast by street lights;
but not so much in words

rather, take a walk with you,
say, this is a street I know well,
may we walk together?

not to influence or be insistent,
but rather, see this, and this, so
let’s pause a while here,

perhaps just for a comma, or a space, or
the setting out upon the page,
a walk together,

a poem as a guiding of the reader
in the experience of the poem
I’d like to share,

not as insistence but rather
see it as loving care
as one would unwrap

some treasured heirloom
from its silk wrapping – this
I care for, you should know

and perhaps, as we walk together
through the experience of the poem
there’ll grow, a friendly trust

of imagination shared;
and like old friends, we can then talk
of anything, of everything.

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem At The End Of The Walk

THE POEM AT THE END OF THE WALK

The poem at the end of the walk
Does not know
Whether or not it will come into being-
Why a poem now?
Because the pen is in my hand
And I have some minutes to wait
And the world outside
Has so much light and beauty,
And I am quiet inside
After the long walk
Before the day of work
Not tired.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All I Want From This Walk Is A Poem

ALL I WANT FROM THIS WALK IS A POEM

All I want from this walk is a poem-
A small poem-
I can take home-
A poem that can somewhat diminish
My guilt, my sense of failure, my worthlessness-
A small poem
That can make me feel
I am a human being again-
As sitting in the sun
And rewriting this poem
Does to some degree now.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Local Park

When you want a good walk
Through day or the dark,
The place to go is our local park,

The park is a pride
The finest ever seen,
Tree's and grass always ever green..

There's swings for the kids
For all girls and boys,
Sea saw and paddling pool
To fill in their joys.

There's a path walk way all the way round
If you want a good walk
And summer seats to sit if you want a good talk,
The park has a lake and plenty good sport,
Bowling on the green and tennis on the court.

There's plenty of fun
Plenty to do,
Even at the park
Good swimming pool there to,

The pool has a cafe
If you want to call in
A wee cup of tea or have a good swim.

There's cricket and football
A horse riding track,
And even a good golf course
It's way round the back.

So here is our park
That's full of good pride,
Were ducks swim the water
And kids play the slide

poem by Gerald Follis Lurgan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem Is Going On Now

THE POEM IS GOING ON NOW

The poem is going on now
The poem is this walk
This wind this light these trees
The poem is going on now
Life
Just being alive now
Is suddenly everything I ever wanted
This wind this day
This life this world
This quiet Yerushalmi street
The poem is going on now.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem.

I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,

I like the story.

poem by Aisha Patterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem.

I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,

I like the story.

poem by David Carter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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I Walk Where The Poem Once Was

I WALK WHERE THE POEM ONCE WAS

I walk where the Poem once was,
The Trees are still green
The woman is dead,
The sky is cold.

I walk where many Poems
Have been written
After the rain
Her flowers still bloom.

The presence of the other person,
Is the Greatest Gift God gives us.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If There Is A Poem On This Walk

IF THERE IS A POEM/ON THIS WALK

If there is a poem
On this walk,
Will I know how to write it?
Will I know how to make
The cold and the wind
Into a song of joy?
Will I know how to make
The gloom and the damp
Into a hymn of happiness?
If there is a poem on this walk
Will I know how to stop and hear it?

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Poem

The love of a muse like Orange Street,
The pen of a writer like Banana Street,
This poem will teach many yet unborn.
From Marcus Garvey to Haile Selassie,
From Haile Selassie to Bob Marley,
From Bob Marley to all;
This poem is from a realm to guide many.

No bones for the dogs,
No fish for the cats,
Like the life in Guantanamo Bay!

Honey for my child,
Chocolates for your children,
Molasses for us all to learn from eachother.
This poem is like the White City Stadium,
This poem is like the Montego Bay,
This poem is like St. William Grant Park,
This poem is like the life in Downtown Kingston,
This poem is like James Bond Beach,
This poem is like one walking through Trench Town,
This poem is the Mustard Seed that grows around you,
This poem is to all mankind,
This poem will teach many yet unborn;
For, life is all about us.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem The Poem And The Poem Again

THE POEM‘ THE POEM AND THE POEM AGAIN’

‘The poem the poem and the poem again’
Isn’t there any life without poetry?
Why is it always ‘The poem the poem the poem’?

Let it be some other dream
Or some other small facet of our endless realities
Why always ‘The poem the poem the poem? ’

The poet who lives and dies for the poem
Is only one kind of poet
And perhaps not even a good one.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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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At Hiroshima's rock

I had to do a project on Hiroshima for school and I came across a poem about helping the victims at Hiroshima. That one poem inspired me to go and write this about a victim of Hiroshima.
P.S. For those of you who don't know the Enola gay was the plane that bombed Hiroshima

In solitude I walk
Down at Hiroshima’s rock
With the wind at my back
The sky itself was jet black
As I walk
At Hiroshima’s rock
I, the white soldier

Down at Hiroshima’s rock I watch
Waiting on the world
Something will occur
For if nothing were to happen
The world would just arrest
As I walk
At Hiroshima’s rock
I, the white soldier

I hope for the best
But hoping has done nothing
It has killed my friends
It has destroyed my country
As I walk
At Hiroshima’s rock
I, the white soldier

I knew the war was on
All our support had been withdrawn
Peace was on the way
This could well be the last day
We all just want this to be over
As I walk
At Hiroshima’s rock
I, the white soldier

I saw in the distance
The gray Enola gay
I knew right then
The war wasn’t over
As I was running to the ground
I saw little boy fall from the sky
I saw a huge flash of light
Then, I saw no more
As I walked
At Hiroshima’s rock
I, the dead soldier

poem by Dillon Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Afternoon Poem

When i write this one,
this general idea about something
with nothing definite in particular
falling short of the images required
of a poem,
i really have no audience in mind
i am just writing like talking a walk or
sitting on a bench watching some of you
passing by,
definitely, this is an afternoon poem
and that is what is definite about it

i am tired
but i cannot rest
when i arrive in the house
only the dogs meet me
there is no one here
no note
left on the fridge
there is only this silence that keeps
me company
and the image of the wagging tail of
a dog
the only loyalty that seems
to abide by the rules
of this
game, well,
i should not be surprised
it has been this way
and i like it that way now
this nonirritating
spectator

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Walk And Try To Dream A Poem

I WALK AND TRY TO DREAM A POEM

I walk and try to dream a poem-
There is so much Beauty in the world-
There is Goodness also
And kind people-

One must take Hope
There is what to live for-

Life can be good-

Oh if only I could be true
To the best in others and in myself.

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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