As You Promise Me
as you promise me
to write a poem
about winter
here in my warm country
i waited
for the coming of rain
at least to feel
what coldness means
when it is promised
to come
through the words
of your
winter poem
the sun is up in
our tropical skies
the snowstorm
still rages in my mind
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The Winter Poem Is A Cold Poem
THE WINTER POEM IS A COLD POEM
The winter poem is a cold poem
It is a poem seeking warmth
It wants to feel a comfort
In being at home
But the cold is deep
And so dark
And the pain so rigid in its breaking
That no light can heat it
And no sun can thaw it
And nothing not even the bright blue skies of another time
Can make one forget it.
The winter poem is a hard poem and a cold poem
And the soul of that poem is as loveless as death.
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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Scribbler's Stymie
Pen and paper in sight
I've got no poem to write
Staying up all night
I've got no poem to write
Although my mind is bright
I've got no poem to write
It's windy out tonight, should I go fly a kite?
I've got no poem to write
My ceiling, it is white
I've got no poem to write
It's 4: 59! Five, but not quite
I've got no poem to write
In your arms I'd feel so light
I've got no poem to write
I've had no sleep tonight
I've got no poem to write
Will you just hold me tight?
I've got no poem to write
Outside it's almost light
I've got no poem to write
It's late, off goes my light
I've got no poem to write
poem by Julia Grace

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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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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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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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Read This Winter Poem When It's Not
Read this winter poem when it is not,
and on your forehead a snow flake might drop
Read this winter poem when it's not white,
but somewhere is and you'll feel just right
Read this winter poem when you feel lonely,
and I hope you'll find happiness wherever you be
And read this winter poem when it is not,
so that you'll know whichever season you are in, it's a gift from God,
whichsoever season you are in,
it's a gift that today you live..
My Heart Is Small
MY HEART IS SMALL
My heart is small
My mind also-
I cannot feel much
Or think much now-
I try by writing
To revive myself,
But I am small and cold
As the harsh winter rain outside.
I cannot somehow warm my soul within
Little words
Little lines
A poem of small feeling
In the deep dark of winter
On the coldest darkest night of the year.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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No more love poem
I wish to write a love poem
But I have forgotten how
I wish to write a love poem
But no words of love coming in my mind
I am trying to write a love poem
But my pen had run out of ink
I am trying to write a love poem
But all my paper is in waste bin
I guess there would be no more love poem from me
As I have no more love to share
I guess there would be no more love poem from me
As my heart have died along with you
poem by Tear Drops

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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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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!
Talking To Winter
'Merry Winter' winter said,
'May you be happpy by chill, '
I replied 'why thanks you alas,
This breeze is refreshing and shrill.'
Then winter said,
'My snow has to come, though it's late..'
I then replied in a pleasured voice,
'My Winter friend, it's really worth the wait.
For you can never desert us,
Coming every year, better late than never, '
Winter than calmly says,
'You're right, I have come forever.
Every December, Jan or Feb,
Turning up even in April I will,
To turn your faces warm with smiles,
So that you can feel the chill.
My soft cushions lay on the ground,
Snow, as I think you decide it's named.'
'Yes, that's its name' I replied nicely,
'That's what keeps Winter spirit, enflamed.
It's nice to know you Winter,
You bring happiness as well as a change,
You give us a shiny moon,
And coldness in a great range.'
'Thank you' replied Winter,
'Your comment has made me feel nice,
Like for once I feel warm,
My chilliness needs some spice.'
'Haha' I replied politely,
'I'd better stock up on heat,
Spice to winter sounds chilly,
Like giving coldness a beat.
Well thank you, what a nice talk, '
I said in a merry tone,
Winter replied 'well thank you as well,
Atleast this winter, I'm not alone.
Pleasurable talk, gets things open,
I hope we talk much more,
Maybe invite some friends?
I've got Autumn, Spring and Summer in store.
Lovely talk.' I replied 'same, lovely...'
poem by Viraj Bhanshaly

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To Canada With Love
two opposite time zones
we know it but not so different geographically
we must so suppose
you have forgotten to write a poem
for me
but i still write one poem for you
to remember
that someone from one of the islands
in the Far East
still cares for you and worries much
when you start to have
insomnia
i will never be cold as a snow there
there is not such coldness
here in my heart
i will be always as warm as the sun that
you first saw here
soft as the foams of the sea
where you first learned how to swim
gentle as the marshes
floating on the river where we tried
to catch fish on a summer day
it is a promise. Good Night.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The Heavy Rain...
as i watch the heavy rain
by my window
i write this poem
every word is like a rain
every sound
every coldness here is rain
every loneliness is rain
and unless you are here
beside me
you can never feel this rain
as you read each word
you still wonder
what is rain, how does it fall
what is its sound
the word is never rain
as the poem is
never real
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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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

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Poetry Is Like A Beautiful Work Of Art
A poem has no write or
wrong,
How to write your poem
is up to you,
Visualize a perfect poem
That readers will love,
Adjust a poem as much as
you want,
Remember a poem is like
art,
You write it with meaning
and passion,
Add as much as your heart
desires,
Short or long it does not
matter,
Add a picture with your
poem,
Add a quote or a verse,
it is a poet's decision,
Always be proud of your poem,
Let the words flow when you
write,
A poem expresses a feeling,
thought and emotion,
Add a frame and hang it up
on a wall,
share your talents with the
world,
Poetry is like a beautiful
work of art.
poem by Derek James

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I don't Write a Poem
I don't write a poem
but sprinkle my heart
on white papers.
I don't write a poem
but kiss flaming words
on the lips of volcano.
I don't write a poem
but croon a lullaby
for drizzling lids.
I don't write a poem
the poem writes me
and sets me free
from the life engulfed
by mirages.
@@@
poem by Madhav Sarkunde

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All Through The Night I Longed For A Poem
ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT I LONGED FOR A POEM
All through the night I longed for a poem
I could not write-
I waited to hear it inside
But I could not write it-
I needed a poem so much
And it did not come-
In the morning I sat down
And began to write-
The words came-
I felt I meant something again
As I write this now
Who I am returns to me.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Waiting And Wanting To Write Something Else
WAITING AND WANTING TO WRITE SOMETHING ELSE
Waiting and wanting to write something else
The spirit of poetry comes to me
It does not say a specific subject or theme
It has no meaning in mind for itself
But it sings in me
It calls to me
It says ‘now you have the music- let it flow’
And I write it down now
Not as if it is my poem or your poem or anyone’s poem
But only words which God is kind enough to give me
As God has given me so much else which I can be grateful for
A poem to You then
Who have so many poems
And need not my poem
Thank You God My Father.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Why Should I Have A Poem?
WHY SHOULD I HAVE A POEM?
Why should I have a poem?
Who am I to have a poem?
Who is anyone to have a poem?
But then again
Aren’t we all poems?
Many poems
And each one of us many voices
And who knows how deep feelings
We ourselves cannot understand
And lingerings of beauty
We can ourselves barely decipher?
Who knows what a poem is
And what life means
And why we write and read
And what words move us
In the middle of the night
Or at the end of the day
When even our dreams are asleep?
poem by Shalom Freedman

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