The Wise Man....
he considers himself wise
in indulging in
poetry, you see, he explains
it once to me
he saves on expenses
of therapy
and he sometimes sees
in his poem what he had
not seen before
and he starts from there
repairing some broken
dreams
fixing the missing items
of his life
taking some space for
growth and
with all his words as wings
he travels to the places
where his soul and heart
can sleep and
take the needed rest
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
A Poem To Be Heard
A poem to be held
a poem to be fed, with words stronger than the ancient
spirits.
Ti's a poem to be read by all.
A poem that beats the heat of temptation away.
It's power in every single word attracts the moonlight.
A poem, a light in the dark wilderness.
A poem that is just needed and leaves the audience
speechless.
A poem that comforts a sad soul.
Read to me a poem
when I'm cold.
Read it to me till I'm old.
When I'm heart broken, a poem, a love, I'd want.
A poem, a victory through lives endless battle.
A poem an epistle to mine heart, and every written word
in it is heard.
A poem, about royalty, about Kings and Queens
and how they live in luxury.
A poem, a song about sweet heavens.
Read me a poem and slow my heart beat down.
A poem with a tasty flavor, I'd want to hear.
Read me a poem that explains how Nelson Mandela
conquered his fears.
A poem that can describe how Martin Luther Kings
felt when he fought for freedom.
I long to hear it,
Therefor read me a poem,
to be heard.
poem by Marlene Rashidi
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18 Definitions Of Poetry
1) Poetry is what is Beautiful in words –
2) Poetry is the deepest feeling words can tell
3) Poetry is the soul of each one of us
4) Poetry is the morning light after the longest night
5) Poetry is a dream of dreams in a world that needs dreams to be
beautiful
6) Poetry is the Search for God and the Love of God in all holy writing
7) Poetry is Reality itself when it is doing what it should
8) Poetry is you and me and all of us when we are kind to each other
9) Poetry is more than we can say or know- deeper than the deepest
silence and quieter also
10) Poetry is the place we go to in ourselves when we need to cry out loud
11) Poetry is Love words of love and the first spring of the young lovers first
song
12) Poetry is all we are when our minds are right and strong
13) Poetry is what saves us from all the other words
14) Poetry is what ceases to exist when Cruelty comes
15) Poetry is Love and Blessing and Kindness again
16) Poetry cuts through the icy sea within and sends chills down the spine
17) Poetry is what is recollected in tranquility but also tried and tossed in
tempest on the most difficult seas
18) Poetry is open to more than what it has been It is what others have not yet created and will so long as we are human and in search of the Sublime
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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Cope
She needed to sleep, sleep for a little,
to see him, feel him, hear him say.
Come lovely, come and rest your
head on my pillow, She had to rest,
rest of her own self, of her many
miseries that shattered her dreams.
But how to rest? or dream a sweet dream.
To wake up to an empty bed, with nothing
but his scent, his last touch, his last sleep,
his last words, and his last kisses. She adorned
her bed with broken sadness, dropping
her tears, and picking up more for the next day.
Her veins draining a river of pain. Her heart all
weary with multiple wounds. Her will refrained
from hope, her feelings with fears,
to love another man, and die all over again.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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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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Butterfly Dreams and Angel Wings
my hands shiver in the cold
because you are not here for me to hold
and the summer rain starts to fall
while i'm still waiting for your call...
butterfly wings slowly take place
eventhough it's dark
and i can't see your face
as the moon says goodnight
and fireflies start to take flight...
all around me,
i can hear no sound,
no thunder, no lightning, only silence
i step out and stand in the rain
hoping that it will wash away the pain...
and angel wings took hold of me
slowly lifting me up to eternity
taking me to distant places
that are always full of hope and happiness...
then i suddenly opened my eyes
and i started to realize
it was just butterfly dreams
coming from my broken heart...
butterfly dreams and angel wings
are you really true?
or just a fantasy to make me blue?
butterfly dreams and angel wings
are you really there?
could you hold me
and never ever let go?
poem by Carla Grace De Los Santos
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Nevermore
Unspoken words are the thirst in your voice sheen
And missing love is a place in your heart green
I scream when my tearing soul becomes dim
We're no more inside of our universe rim
You're no more my blessing along the life shore
And I heard the raven saying: 'Nevermore! '
Broken idols in midnight taper will weep
Love with rusty traces of tears will sleep
I'll keep all silence in the absence of words
Killing in time the dewy wings of hate swords
I eat my walking dreams and close my deep wound
As sky eats its clouds and earth closes grave ground
poem by Marieta Maglas
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In My Dreams
There's a place that I know
I'd love to take you
But I can't because you're not allowed to go
You can't break through
But if you could go
I know that you'll love it
So many things to show
You'd be a perfect fit
All my life it seemed
That something was missing
That you're fixing now
You're the perfect thing it seems
In my dreams
And although I know
It's impossible
You can't come with me
So I will go
And bring it back to you
To me you're the perfect thing it seems
In my dreams
All my life it seemed
That something was missing
That you're fixing now
You're the perfect thing it seems
In my dreams
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
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Beauty on a Page
Poetry is the lyrics to an enchanting melody,
one that was composed for the simple purpose
of having beautiful words attached to it.
Poetry is chicken noodle soup
on a cold day when the soul is sad
and bones are aching with cold.
It is the medicine needed
when one feels lost or lonely
and only words of comfort are needed.
Poetry is a beautiful butterfly,
floating on a spring breeze,
flowing, gliding, whispering.
Poetry is the realization
and the answer to life's
toughest and most difficult questions.
It is the sound of soft wings
beating against air as a bird is released
from being captive and scared.
Poetry is simply a combination
of everything beautiful in life,
of everything fragile.
It is love, hope, pain, sadness, fear,
It is beauty on a page.
poem by Nick Downer
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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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You're Forvever In Her Dreams
She stands in the sun
Wading though the ripples
That cascade into time
Her arms out stretched
Searching for love
She smiles as she sees
A possibility
Her heart beats fast
As she tastes
The heart felt
Emotions that beat
Inside your heart
And her laughter
Touches your being
Your soul
It embraces
The love
That only you know
Then with a sudden shock
A taste of reality
She starts to tremble
As she sees your fears
Tastes your despair
You doubt her love
You doubt her soul
How can she be?
What you think
Is your soul
You deny what you see
You deny what you know
She shatters in two
Like a broken sphere
From a broken
Shattered dream
She rises to the norm
From the darkness
We claim lays
Dormant in our souls
Like a flower she burst
Like a rippling effect
She shines onto thee
Her love, her energy
Tears trickle down
Upon her tear streaked cheeks
She knows in her heart
How much she loves
You so
She lets go of your heart
She lets go of her dreams
She cry's in the night
You're for ever
In her dreams
poem by Kaila George
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Found
It's amazing.
The places we look for ourselves
Without finding;
And the places we find ourselves
Without looking.
So far away
From where I began;
And finally beginning
So far from where I am.
How could I have known
I'd be at the end of a poem;
Why would I have even thought to find
Myself, just outside of time.
Out there. At the far end
Of the pen,
In those old words
That never end.
It is amazing to think
A soul could so completely sink,
Into the depths of a word...
Yet to be spoken, yet to be heard.
But there it is.
There, where we all lie,
Gathered together in the conversation of Life's poetry...
Those ageless words
That never, ever shall die.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Dis poetry
Dis poetry is like a riddim dat drops
De tongue fires a riddim dat shoots like shots
Dis poetry is designed fe rantin
Dance hall style, big mouth chanting,
Dis poetry nar put yu to sleep
Preaching follow me
Like yu is blind sheep,
Dis poetry is not Party Political
Not designed fe dose who are critical.
Dis poetry is wid me when I gu to me bed
It gets into me dreadlocks
It lingers around me head
Dis poetry goes wid me as I pedal me bike
IÕve tried Shakespeare, respect due dere
But did is de stuff I like.
Dis poetry is not afraid of going ina book
Still dis poetry need ears fe hear an eyes fe hav a look
Dis poetry is Verbal Riddim, no big words involved
An if I hav a problem de riddim gets it solved,
IÕve tried to be more romantic, it does nu good for me
So I tek a Reggae Riddim an build me poetry,
I could try be more personal
But youÕve heard it all before,
Pages of written words not needed
Brain has many words in store,
Yu could call dis poetry Dub Ranting
De tongue plays a beat
De body starts skanking,
Dis poetry is quick an childish
Dis poetry is fe de wise an foolish,
Anybody can do it fe free,
Dis poetry is fe yu an me,
DonÕt stretch yu imagination
Dis poetry is fe de good of de Nation,
Chant,
In de morning
I chant
In de night
I chant
In de darkness
An under de spotlight,
I pass thru University
I pass thru Sociology
An den I got a dread degree
In Dreadfull Ghettology.
Dis poetry stays wid me when I run or walk
An when I am talking to meself in poetry I talk,
Dis poetry is wid me,
Below me an above,
Dis poetry's from inside me
It goes to yu
WID LUV.
poem by Benjamin Zephaniah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After All Hymn
After all I am human
And I get mad sometimes
Sometimes it is hard for me to think of something else in
Order to get rid of my anger
But I think I have to replace it with poetry
Poetry is my life
And I live writing poetry
Is poetry just a scribbling that doesn't make sense?
No
Poetry are feelings that are wrtten on a piece of paper or in the computer Scream
Poetry makes sense because every word I carefully select
And there are other words that might pop out of my mind
That I connect with the words in my heart
Do I use strong words in my poetry?
Yes I use strong words
Do I offend my readers with the words I pick?
That Is something that I try not to do
AAafter all
I am human and I do make mistakes
But after I make mistakes I try to move to the next step so I never get Stuck with my mistake
Yes poetry is my voice that is a message that I am trying hard to give to My readers
There are so many different styles of poetry
Haiku, rhiming, and free style
But I always stick with the free style of poetry
I find that it is the style that sooths me just fine
After all
I try very hard to live a modest life that is very plain and simple
From the one I lived 16 years ago
What is wrong to live a life of luxury to me?
First I need to have the money to live a luxurious life
The second part is that I don't want anything to do with a luxurious life
Because I am happy living my simple life
And I hope to live that simple life forever
I want to have dreams only and I don't wish them to turn into reality in My Life
Because I know that my dreams will be dreams
No I can't sell my dreams
Because my dreams are only fantasies that I face every night when I sleep In my bed
And after all I will always be human
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Requiem for losses
Silence must be the last song of sanity
As wishes and dreams often go missing
True hearts ride the crest tireless
Hard flights on sometimes broken wings
Some fly true, they carry their stories high
On fragile wings that have never known rest
Solo in essence, yet they lead from the borders
To horizons beyond, far ahead of time
They are the loaners to the winds of change
The pavers of those unfamiliar longings
Their presence linger as gentle reminders
Of places yet to be reached by the flock
Birds of passage, they have no true homes
They are seen by those who need them most
When their work is done, their plumage bloodied
Broken and scattered, they are always the hunted…
poem by Bindu Vijayan
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Collection Of Short Poems
MEANINGLESS
I looked into my soul
And saw a great emptiness that enswallowed me.
It was strange and it was dark.
A darkness so vast I fall into it.
Terrified, my heart froze
As fear’s ice hands griped it.
Big dreams and ambitions cut short by the shortness of life
My life now a black deep ocean to drown in
For this is now my fate for mine had being a vain pursuit for self.
DREAMS
The dreams,
These dreams that I dream when I sleep in my sleep.
Are so scary so dark that I awake to only find
That am trapped in the dusty dream of dreaminglessness.
Am lost like a codeless soul flowing in space.
Like a fading painting I evaporate losing myself in the mystic shadows of life.
I don’t know me;
I don’t feel me,
Am I dreaming or is this real?
The dreams,
These dreams that I dream when I sleep in my sleep.
These dreams that I dream are when my eyes are closed yet open
Are not for the faint hearted,
The dreams.
MIRROR, MIRROR, MIRROR
Internal reflections of my soul
Looking deep where I have never being before
I stand mouth agap at the images I see below.
Distorted images,
I can’t see me.
Is the mirror broken or is it the state f my soul?
Mirror, mirror, mirror!
Is there any hope at all?
Tell me now for I fear that I have completely lost my way.
Mirror…?
poem by Tigana Chileshe
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Poetry according to a cynic
Poetry is not
Beautiful words strung together to make you light
Poetry is not
Appreciated by anyone but the author
Poetry is not
Structured and redundant
Poetry is not
All about why women leave, taking pieces of your soul
Poetry is
Life, as you see it
poem by Scott Campbell
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Sleep To Rejuvenate lIfe!
Unconscious state of being is sleep;
Sleep refreshes mind, heart and soul.
While awake our activities are known
And while asleep no activity is known!
Dreams are common in sleep for all;
It fulfils the heart not possible otherwise!
First all starts as dreams and ends in action;
So, dream is consolation and inspiration!
Coming back to senses seems to be a magic!
If it does not take place one is concluded as dead!
In activities and sleep man's life goes on here;
But without good sleep no activity is bright!
Work while you work, play while play and also
Sleep while you sleep to rejuvenate your life!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Nothing I Do Saves Me Now
NOTHING I DO SAVES ME NOW
Nothing I do saves me now
I have gone to the other side-
Lost and struggling
I try to find a way back
To faith in myself.
I seem unable to do anything
In so many ways.
This poem too is part of the struggle
As if poetry, or rather the effort at poetry
Is all I have left.
Writing these lines down now
Helps me somewhat.
Perhaps I will get out of this somehow
Though I do not feel that now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Making Poetry
Why did I make a poem?
It's more than you can imagine
It's not about black or white
Because the power of poetry that I'm dumbfounded
Look at the whole Bible, everything is poetry {not, but a holy book down from Allah is the truth}
Abstract ideas of science are all from the poem
Idealism actual human life is poetry
I'm just trying to be honest...
Creating poetry for me is more than anything
Not me want to be Jesus or Muhammad {but imitate their pious}
But I do not know what my purpose {paradise}
Only the most important is to produce poetry
I just write from the unreal world
Introduce something to people here
Are they willing to accept it or not does not matter
Since the poetry of the poem is the image of eternity
Who continue to fly and only revealed to the seeker
Poetry for me is more important than life
More important than my beloved
More important than my brother
Because the poem can represent any
Why did I make a poem?
When you reject the poem in your life
It has a form of poem to poem
Actually you can not escape from poetry
But you did not realize it, be aware of?
Indeed the poem is really real
Do you not believe how strong poetry
Look at all the countries in the world today
All poems must have an ideology
Ideology of all States is poetry
Do you still deny its power?
From now on, deep down consider
The poem is more than just blank words without the influence
(30 April 2002)
poem by Irvan Hermawan Saichu
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