Ramdas Choi Chang poems 1
Ramdas
Choi Chang
Poems
13/06/2013
Morning moods
Poem 1.
Nightingale sings,
Namaste, Namaste
Peacock dance to that song,
Some people are so strong,
They sleep well till 10,
even if Crows sing and cocks dance on their bed!
Poem 2.
Some are good poets
Some are good writers
There are so many Good topics
Most successful are more controversial,
If there is shadow, then there is light!
Poem 3
some men have very good knowledge,
And some are highly rich,
There are some taps have block and are useless,
As useless as that men said above!
Poem 4
Honest people have high demand
As far as brilliant are there,
People use shoes and slippers,
The shoes and slippers are used by brilliant to save feet from thorns and pricky stones!
Poem 5.
There are stones useful
There are stones useless
Strangely men are used by men,
useful are used as steps and pavements,
Useless are polished and use in jewels!
Poem 6.
Strange people need not remain as strangers,
ones own strange behaviours can strangely convert a relative to stranger,
And a stranger to own relative,
We all relative to each other,
we all are relatively relatives, Only we can be relatively perfect that
Perfect relatives!
Poem7
Some people have choice,
Live better or leave better,
There are Dogs and kittens,
they live better than people! Poem 8
There lived a king in Burma,
Good ruler he was and powerful
so far men saw,
Destiny is that force,
His grand sons forced to draw rickshaw!
Poem9
He was a good dreamer,
In dream he was a soccer player,
Goal after Goal made him richer
and richer,
He married, and he found a good match,
hatrick goals he scored,
Next morning his goal was to
get corrected his wife's bones!
Poem10
In this house
I became guest,
A paying guest
every time
I have to pay,
For every thing,
Not only for my
Word and deed,
But also for
Every thought,
I think!
But then my
Host told me
'you can stay
here free,
If you accept
Whatever I give,
For that you
need not pay! '
To save myself,
I have to either,
Sleep well forever!
Or just remain,
A thoughtless,
Living for the Host!
Poem 11.
Clouds float here and there in sky,
Thick, low and dark are some,
and
thin, high and bright are some,
Strange are men and like clouds,
are two types,
Like clouds they float in one's life!
Poem 12
Ocean is vast and deep,
Earth too vast with mountain
and valleys,
Ants are very special,
I learnt this when I heard, Ant of my house talk
To ant of next house!
Poem 13
Two nightingales wanted to sing
together,
One Pakistani, Mehdi Hasan,
Another is Indian Lata
Mangeskar, Human boundaries separated
them and no human deserved
their duet,
God only want to enjoy song,
when they sing together!
Poem14.
No one knows whether God is in temple or not,
No one knows,
where he dwells,
Great brokers demand high
brokerage, Just as high priests, they demand
their commission!
Poem15
Ordinary people love to race into
arms of love,
There are special people who
only love arms race!
Poem 16
Language is our problem
everywhere,
chinese can't talk spanish,
spanish can't talk Korean,
God became big failure,
as he can't race with racial race of men!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar

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Related quotes
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

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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

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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

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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

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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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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

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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!
Revolution
My poem is a
Revolution for the poem.
My poem is to accept.
My poem is to socialised.
My poem is straight
And accept all.
My poem is flexible
And in the mind
of the people.
My poem is to enjoy.
My poem is a sacred code
You are but to aboard.
poem by Gajanan Mishra

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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

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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

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The Poem That Is Not Good Enough
THE POEM THAT IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH
The poem that is not good enough
Awkwardly fumbles from line to line
Does not hear its own music
Has none.
Its words are larger than its feelings
Its Ideas overwhelm its words
It proclaims a Beauty it cannot reveal.
The poem that is not good enough
Pretends to be a poem
It has birds and flowers and trees and winds
which are names alone.
The Poem which is not good enough
does not touch the Heart
has little Soul
puts everyone to sleep before they finish
beginning it.
A Poem that is not good enough
Just does not Live
And who am I?
And what are you?
And why are we?
Writers and readers of Poems
Looking for our own lost Eternity.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Ramdas Choi Chang Poems
RamDas
Choi Chang
Chinese poems
12/06/2012
Poem 1
I have friends,
I have a song
There is beautiful singing bird
In the morning I like to sing with the bird,
'Namaste, Namaste, let
Love and peace everywhere! '
Poem 2
Life is a dream,
Full of joy and pain,
Great ice cream they produce,
but dreams are cream of life, sure to melt Someday, before one can enjoy!
Poem 3
Life is mystery
Everyone has a story
Great people were born,
Their stories are full of deeds
evergreen and everyone reads!
Poem 4
Children are gifts of God,
So are our pets,
There is that large heart,
For which all are pets and children of God!
Poem 5
All of we need light,
we forget we are light
There are Heavier bodies emit light,
Only if you want light,
Lighten yourself discarding desires,
Be lightest to become light,
Don't try to be
a Hero,
As rest mass of photon is zero!
Poem 6
Life itself is a miracle,
Still some try to find miraculous
There are thiefs and corrupts,
Miraculously they perform
miracles on foolishness of men!
Funny
Poem 7
Men are of explorers of adventurous kind,
women like adventurous and have more interesting geography,
Life continues
as they can marry due to these virtues!
Poem 8.
Thousand men were in heaven,
Marlin Monroe and Mata Hari
were sent there from hell,
God wanted to how men work,
Both women need not return to hell
All men helped them to convert Heaven into hell!
Poem 9.
Man developed
Chemistry
And worked a lot on elements
and compounds,
Great work he did, Differentiated monovalent,
divalent, Trivalent and penta
valent
but yet to differentiate
Malevolent and benevolent!
Poem 10.
God was intelligent,
Man became more intelligent.
Technology improved life of
men,
God created Heaven and Hell,
Man brought both to Earth!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar

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Let This One Poem Be About Me
Let this one poem be just about me
Let this one poem engulf all my beauty
Let this one poem define my soul
Let this one poem consume me whole
My soul was earth bound
And my heart lay in a place that it would never be found
Let this poem be what entangles my mind
Let this poem be where people will find
They will find that missing link
And this poem it will make them think
They will wonder how this girl came
They will wonder how I avoided fame
I didn’t write these words to please
I wrote these words to tease
My heart it’s the type that beckons for ease
And my taste will not accept the flavor of peas
Let this poem describe me in most simplest of ways
Let this poem show how I get through these days
And I know people will read this and say…
This girl she knew where heart lay…
Let this poem eat me whole
Let me entire heart bleed its luscious love into a broken bowl
My soul wanted only to be free
And this poem only pushed it back into me
I never will lose any part of my soul
Because then this world will swallow my inner being whole
Let this poem be what I hate
Let this poem describe with who I would mate
Let this thoughts become my ways
Let this poem be where I stray
Let this poem show how I lie
Let this poem describe how I will die
Yes I am human I cannot avoid death
Yes I am human I chose not to use meth
These words they dance upon this page
These words they have no age
These verses have lost all meaning
Because I revealed my demeaning
Let this poem describe what I deem right
Let this poem that I will always fight
My age floats through these words
And people will never understand why I want to be heard
Let this poem be only about me
Let this poem be what sets me free
And I know some day people will look at this and say…
This girl, this girl she knew exactly where her heart lay…
poem by Victoria Martinez

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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

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I Wanted A Poem For The Morning
I wanted a poem for the morning
A poem to begin the day with-
A poem which would give my life hope -
I wanted a poem
Which would say I am alive
A good poem a kind poem
A poem which would make others a bit more happy-
And as so often
I wrote a poem
And left it as a question for the longer daylight and
the longer night which also is our life
beyond the morning-
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Nothing..
This poem is not about love..
This poem is not about pain..
This poem is not about the things i have learned...
This poem is not for the broken hearted..
This poem is not for the ones seeking help..
This poem is not for the depressed...
This poem is for no one,
Because no one can contain nothing...
This poem is not filled with wisdom..
This poem was not written with love...
This poem was not written for a lover nor a brother...
This poem was nothing special...
Not quite remarkable....
But it is nothing because that what it was...
Nothing and it will never be anything...
poem by Jenna Marie

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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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A Poem For All
I am
Looking around, all the time
Just as before, for a poem
A balanced poem, without sides
A poem without inclination, non-biased
A poem without pigmentation, colourless
A poem without religion, faithless
A poem without a nation, stateless
A poem devoid of immigration officers, borderless
A poem without language, speechless, silent
I am
Looking around all the time
Just as before, for that poem
Everyone’s poem, everyone’s song!
poem by Isaac Maliya

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He Walks Without A Poem
HE WALKS WITHOUT A POEM
He walks without a poem
There is no poem in his mind
No poem in his heart.
But the idea of a poem
The dream of a poem
The daily task of a poem
The justification given by a poem-
He stops and writes these words down.
All around him
the morning light sings songs
of the things
of this world.
A poem perhaps?
Perhaps not?
I
poem by Shalom Freedman

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