A Good Poem Never Ends
ahh, i have seen and felt
the words of that poem
that never ends,
the moment
you put the last breath
like death
it simply breathes upon itself
a new life
for another beginning
it shifts its meanings
to another soul
another place
and time
at the other side
of this globe
the reader that glances
only for a while
comes back and asks
am i there?
are you talking to me?
am i part of you?
are we not together in this?
are you myself?
how come that we feel
the same
angst?
the same joys?
this bliss?
and so, the words escape and fly away
like birds and build a nest
on the next tree nearby
where another lonely soul
is taking shelter
in his solitude,
for in truth a good poem
never dies.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Nada Mas (only the poem)
Reader, your voice is the poem
you are the words; and
nothing more.
Reader, there is no poetry
unless you speak it.
Reader, there is no sound
you must find what it has to say.
Reader, seek the thought
rising from your soul.
Reader, look all about you, up and down
no one else has come this way.
Reader, there is no other poem
only you among the words of the word; and
nothing more.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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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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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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The Poem Was Destroyed By Its Own Words
The poem was destroyed by its own words
And could not be written-
The words were not good enough
The words were not exact enough -
The poem nonetheless wanted to be
It waited in longing for other words-
Other words came
But they were not the poem either-
The poem it appeared
Was never to be -
The poem disappeared
Before it could be written
That poem forever is not
And in its place only these lines
Barely a poem at all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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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18 Definitions Of A Short Poem
1) A short poem
Saves time,
2) A short poem
Saves time
For its reader, also.
3) A short poem is over
Before its read.
4) A short poem
Can be swiftly reread.
5) A short poem
Is a lightning flash.
6) A short poem
Is one metaphor only.
7) A short poem
Is less than nine words.
8) A short poem
Opens ones eyes
In the morning.
9) A short poem
May be a short prayer.
10) A short poem
May be a poem of a single word.
11) Poem.
12) A short poem
A small play on words.
13) A short poem
May be a single sentence.
14) A short poem is shorter
Than the definition of it.
15) It breaks up the icy sea within.
16) A chill down the spine.
17) There is no end
To making definitions of the short poem.
18) A short poem in Hebrew
Is shorter than than the same poem in English.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A poem for you...
I write a poem for you today,
to get a place in your heart for ever
A poem that could tell you my love for you
I write my poem with emotion and affection
for you to understand my deep thoughts for you
A poem to love and a poem to understand its soul
A poem to enjoy and a poem to understand its happiness
A poem to think and a poem to understand its way of life
A poem to learn and a poem to understand its content
A poem to sing and a poem to understand its melody
A poem to cry and a poem to understand its sorrow
There are poems I have written but this is specially for you
The poem could tell you how important you are for me
There are words comes out freely from my mind to write poem
but there are no words to find my love for you
Those words can not missed as I miss your love today
Let me have all those words put in to my heart and
say I love to write a love poem for you
Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka
Copyright ©2004 Ravi Sathasivam
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Desperation Is A Lonely Poem
DESPERATION IS A LONELY POEM
Desperation is a lonely poem
And what I have to say
And have said so many times before
Will not save me
From this situation.
Desperation is a lonely poem
And a helpless poem
And a difficult poem
And a painful poem
And a poem I do not know how to get out of.
Desperation is the silence of all these words
And the nothingness of endless not hearing
When I cry with all my soul aloud.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Modern Day Poet
I am the modern day poet you know
that must make words that easily flow.
For to just present words that ramble on
is to yield forth words that soon are gone.
They're gone from the listener and reader too,
who cannot reason or cannot view
how the words just seem to sit on a page
allowed to sit and yellow with age.
Words must be caressed and also thrive
to take on rhythms which come alive,
alive in the memory that through the ear
has taken it in and holds it dear.
And so in each poem I have my say.
And so in each poem my words do sway
back and forth like a front porch swing
giving my poem a magical ring.
I never allow dullness to come into play
for then my poem will be thrown away
into the piles of poems never read
because they're too hard to keep in the head.
So over and over it's become my style
to enchant the reader for a little while,
making them remember the lilting rhyme
that got into my head one word at a time.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Had A Poem This Morning
IF I HAD A POEM THIS MORNING
If I had a poem this morning
And I could write it
With all my soul,
Then I would feel somehow
That I and this day are worthwhile.
But what I have
Is for the moment
Only these words.
And these words slowly emerging on the page
Feel awkward and lonely and slow and prosaic.
Still they are my words, my thoughts
What I have now to give.
And what if we so much want to give
And what we have to give
Is of no value to anyone else
At all?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Nest
Far and wide I may travel,
Explore places, experience people,
But when I need a place to rest,
I head back to my nest.
Now I am at the edge with wings spread,
ready to fly to a new high
But in my heart I know
No matter how many caps I wear
My nest will always be here.
Here are people I hold dear
who I wish to be near
Here I learnt and fought to make a career.
Here I grew strong with nothing to fear.
Here I learnt to fight and when necessary bear.
Here emotions are felt beyond words one can hear.
Here a smile's always ready to greet each silent tear.
This is where my soul resides.
I refuse to become a guest,
When I come back to my nest.
A new life and beginning, a loved one all await
luring me to the west,
Yet my feet stumble as I try leaving my nest.
The future calls, full of promises
of offering me the best
But I feel, I already have it all
right here in my nest.
Why to risk leaving
what if I fail the test?
A bird in hand is worth two in the bush
I cling to the comfort of the nest.
There's a new feeling though
of a need to build
something of my own
So that to someone someday
I too may say
If you need a place for love and care
a shelter from the world's stare
where dreams you may share
and lay your heart bare
To you I can offer
with pride in my chest
Come in, take shelter,
For this is your nest.
poem by Dipti Date Gokhale
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The Poem's Truth Is That It Says More Than It Knows
THE POEM’S TRUTH IS THAT IT SAYS MORE THAN IT KNOWS
The poem’s truth is that it says more than it knows
That it goes beyond its own intention
That it means in more than only one way
The poem’s truth is its hidden music
And the melody it plays through and beyond our listening
A poem’s truth answers itself in endless questions and ambiguities
No wonder no one simply reads these simple words
As if they were simply written.
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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Poem: 'A Simple Note
-11. Feb.2006 -
** This poem is about the seriousness of illness such as depression and the event of suicide. It's about the underlying pain that is left in a suicide note, moreso than simply the words that are written.
A tortured soul,
Saying goodbye to the world it loves no more
A simple girl
No more does this life mean anything to her
It’s death she found she’d much prefer
A heart that forever aches
Just wishing for that sweet escape –
That comes with not seeing the car –
Speeding past
That comes from the stolen breath
That forever sighs –
Emptiness
Some simple words
Simply written full of hurt
Full of pain, agony prolonged
A goodbye, this girl will forevermore be gone –
She left few words
Simply sweet
Pointless words in place of torments she cannot speak…
It’s simply not
A simple note…
poem by Rachel Ann Clark
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The Poem Tree
The poem tree is a very safe haven,
for birds and fowl, a hawk, a raven, or
a little barn owl.The tree could be a
silhouette, or the finest place to raise
your pet.The poem tree could bear
the fruit of life.Such as apples and
pears, with morning dew.A wonderful
place to play the flute.The poem tree
could have a nest.Giving birds with
eggs, a place to rest.It could capture
a kite who someone lost, or be bitten
by the morning frost.It could capture
a balloon, which went astray, or drop
all its leaflets by the bay.The poem
tree could have a lollipop, or maybe
a candycane, umbrella branches, to
stop the rain.The tree could protect
all animals, from an oncoming flood,
and keep all the tree bugs out of the
mud.Above the tree the sun will shine.
Home for a raccoon, or a porcupine..
The Poem Tree by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2011.All rights reserved.
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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.
Do Not Read! ! !
Don't read this poem!
Turn back while you have the chance
Or you will regret it
This poem is a poem of darkness
This poem is a devourer of souls
It will destroy you
Consume you
Absorb you into its black depths
I tried to warn you
I told you not to read it
Why are you still reading?
If I had named it 'READ THIS POEM! ! ! '
Would you have even bothered?
This poem is pulling you in
It has your feet
It's eating you
It's shattering your soul
It's never going to let you go
It's murdering you
This poem is a murderer
It is a criminal, it is evil
It is unnameable, unbreakable, imperfect
This poem has you
It's too late for you now
There's no escape for you now
Too bad
This poem has you
This poem's devoured you
Yummm, good
This poem is satisfied now
You should have listened to me
But you didn't
And now the poem's taken you
You're dead.
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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Lonely, ,
Lonely and alone I am
my soul's always lonesome
in a crowd of loneliness
it sounds sad and lonely
hiding loneliness alone
the lonely lone alone
Lonely is a single traveller
on a dark and winding road.
Lonely is the burden
of carrying a heavy load.
Lonely is a beautiful song
that no one's ever heard,
and lonely is the wait for death
by a broken winged bird.
Lonely is the emptiness
inside my hollow soul,
and lonely is the sound of the wind
blowing through its gaping hole.
Loneliness is second only
to the darkened void of death
and loneliness is taking
that 'Right' to Hell
when I should have made a 'Left'.
Lonely is the sound
of an infant
who sadly cries in vain,
and lonely is his addict mother
shooting poison in her veins.
Lonely is the boy
who will never become a man
and lonely is the brink of disaster
upon which I know I stand.
Lonely is the poem
which has gone on long enough
and lonely is the sympathizers
who say I've, 'had it rough'.
Lonely is my life
lived without family or friend
and lonely is the last word of this poem
because it's always at the...
End.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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