When You Arrive Today
when you arrive today
there is no surprise except
for the reason that i have not
taken any lunch simply because
i still have more poems to write,
not about you or her,
it is all about an emptiness
that lingers so lovingly
inside my ears.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Days Without Poems
DAYS WITHOUT POEMS
Days without poems-
Nights without poems-
A time of life without poems-
No poems anywhere.
Empty inside
Running outside
Tired.
No inner energy
No great urgency in feeling
Nothing.
In the emptiness inside of no- poems
I pass this time without song.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poems I Heard Today
THE POEMS I HEARD TODAY
The poems I heard today
From everyone else
Made me remember
A rhythm in myself-
If I can write a poem now
The only reason why
Is God has given others
Lines that do not lie.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I don't
Many people write
For their true emotions to unravel
Out of depression, angst, spite
But I can’t
I don’t write poems when I’m sad
They write from their experiences
When he left me
When they died
Bringing tears, causing cries
But I can’t
I don’t write when I’m sad
The tears dutifully stain my cheek
And roll on and on
Through and through
Down
Down
Down
But I can’t
And I don’t write poems when I’m sad
And all the anger and sadness
Thrust inside of me
Just bursting to get out
Screaming
Pleading
Begging to get out
But they can’t
Because I don’t write poems when I’m sad
And I don’t know what to do
How to express my pain
And woe, and the feeling
It drains me, and it shows
But there’s nothing I can do
Because I don’t ever write poetry when I’m sad
Write Me
Aerosmith
Write Me
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
I said, the ways of the night are evil with eyes that love the day,
but I'll never never never never never get so far away.
I said write me, write me, write me.
I said write me, write me, write me.
Well there's nothin' I can see that'd ever make
me want to be without her she's good, she's good to me.
Said there's no way to explain the kind of feeling
that you get out in the rain she's good, she's good to me.
See this emptiness inside it makes me scream
it make me crawl out of my high, she's good, she's good to me.
I love her.
Write me a letter, write me a letter, write it today, I'm goin' away.
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
Well I've been so many places hidin' from the wind and the rain,
But you could write me a letter for to save me from a goin' insane.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Don't write me baby.
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Miss Piggy regrets..
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today, madam..
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today:
That tastelessly named flu’s got her
(She forgot to wash her front trotter…) so
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today..
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today, madam..
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today:
It’s a swine of a stroke of bad luck:
Her eyelashes, she sneezed them unstuck… so
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today…
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today, madam..
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today:
She’s all pink from her snout to her face;
Her mascara’s all over the place… so
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today..
Why not try the lamb today, madam…?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Poems About.
There are poems that you will never see
Marked in a folder titled 'privacy'
Poems of hate and anger and personal pain
Poems about greed and hunger and personal gain
Poems about people I would love to see dead
Poems about women I met
Poems about relationships that have gone bad
Poems about issues with mom and dad
Poems about me, the person no one knows
Poems about places where only my soul goes
Poems I wish I could place in the clouds for all to read
Poems about lust, selfishness and greed
Poems I know will hurt those I hate
Poems I write by complete mistake
Poems I have hidden in my heart and my head
Poems about things that are better left unsaid
Poems I want to share and poems I want to retract
Poems of shame and how others might act
They stay in my psyche, they are a part of me
These poems I write, but you will never see.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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I Take My Poems With Me Wherever I Go
I take my poems with me wherever I go-
I write and read them inside myself
Sometimes I try to recall them and cannot
And most are forgotten
And live elsewhere on pages little or never read -
But inside myself
I have poems
I write and rewrite
Read and reread.
I am poems
And wherever I go they are with me
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Morning Poem Did Not Come
THE MORNING POEM DID NOT COME
The morning poem did not come-
So this is the effort of an afternoon poem,
Warm and sun- filled and relaxing and deep and waiting.
This is a poem between times more interesting than itself.
The light is so great now.
But this too is a poem of little or nothing to say
Of afternoon emptiness after morning emptiness
On a tired tired day.
Once I thought I would write poems which would make immortal
Those I love.
Now I write poems to keep myself going.
This afternoon I am extremely tired
But if this is poem
Or even if I only think it is
I can have a rest
Before I face the evening.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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March of the Wheelchairs
In Dakota land lunch is dinner
and dinner supper while lunch is lunch,
as traditions from farmlands go.
Now breakfast is at 6, lunch at 9
dinner at noon, lunch at 3
supper at 7, everything timed.
Day in and day out, better not be late.
Weather fickle, eating ain’t!
Farm traditions, genetics ‘grained.
No surprise, nursing meals,
wheelchairs marching, internal time,
largo moves, staccato fades.
Day in, day out…they’re not late
Wheelchairs marching, marching in
farm traditions, genetics ‘grained.
Weather fickle….eating ain’t!
Hope God keeps the schedule,
or has… a special dining hall.
As these Wheelchairs… arrive
Happy Today
Happy Today
Happy today
That's how I'll stay
Sadness, despair
I don't care to share
In misery and moaning
In sighing and groaning
Happy today
This is my way
Smiles and kind words
Listening to birds
Feel sunshine inside
Self-esteem and pride
Happy today
Take time to play
Lunch with a friend
Go shopping and spend
Time for yourself
Tme on your health
Happy today
Self-love is the way
Try yoga or meditate
A crossword or cogitate
On poems and rhyme
Or the passing of time.
poem by Akingbehin Daniel Murphy
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Poetic Intrigues
just leave these
intrigues
the morning
is beautiful
and there are
many other
poems to write
did i tell you
that they still
beg to be written?
did i tel you
that time is too
short of the haggle?
did i tell you
that these poems
cannot wait and
that if you let them
wait
they simply go
away without
any word?
write another one
and if someone
wants to own your
creations
let that be
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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We Need New Poems
WE NEED NEW POEMS
We need new Poems-
So many great Poems
Have already been written.
Perhaps the Greatest poems
Have already been written.
But we need new poems.
We need our Poems
We need the poems only we can write
We need the poems we must write.
We need new poems
My poems
Your poems
Our poems.
We need new poems.
Let us write them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Old Woman and Today
She awoke early with a pep today
A glimmer in her eye and strong step today
She thought of a menu that would bring a smile today
as she thought of her husband so lovingly today
She cracked the eggs and placed them in the pan today
Se buttered his toast and peeled his fruit today
She poured his glass so full today
She placed the flowers n her favorite vase today
She slowly sat down at the table today
the realization hit her like a cement truck today
She lowered her eyes as she thought of the day
You see, the old man had long been dead by today
The disease of old persons made her forget today
Made her cook breakfast for three today
When I entered the room, I asked her sadly, 'What's wrong today? '
She said, 'I'll greive just the same as I did that day
because my soulmate just died again today.'
poem by Complicated Simply
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The Emptiness That Eats Poems, And Yet Still Hungry
(my) emptiness is greedy
it eats as breakfast
five to six poems in a day
it will require more for
lunch and
an unspecified number for
dinner
when midnight comes
it complains
it is still hungry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sudden Movement
The tiger's eye was on it fast!
A sudden movement seen!
Now on his feet, he stood at last,
His mind alert and keen...
His body leapt ten feet ahead
And landed with a crunch!
Of course, the reason that he sped
Was what he hoped was lunch!
The creature that he tracked was close,
Somewhere within the snow...
That's why he sniffed with downward nose
As low as he could go...
The creature stopped, no sound was heard...
A silence met his ears.
Then all at once, the creature stirred
And dashed to join his peers...
The tiger's eye was left and right
And saw the creature run
And all at once, the bird took flight...
And nothing could be done!
The tiger's sigh was long and drawn...
No lunch for him today!
When he laid down, he paused to yawn...
And there he chose to stay...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Sudden Movement'.
The Stephen Gayford poems can be viewed here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Dry Day
Life as you know will end someday
Since every single day is never the same
Yesterday was a dark age following in today
What a surprise because today was a dry day
You got nothing to do but get wasted
Listen to me brother, don't get me arrested
We gotta break free from this stupid law
What a surprise because today was a dry day
All along as the clock ticked by I waited
It seemed as if the time was all destined
A moment of space without you I stay
What a surprise because today was dry day
Grieving low all past long when I'm high
Help me grace, love will relieve the pain
Let us explore the world as the drunk one said
What a surprise because today was dry day
As past enfolds into this mystery today
I look behind back in those days
Suck glorious moments filled us held today
What a surprise because today was dry day
poem by Siddharth Shah
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Early Works - She’s Gone
The sound of silence
hangs over every room
she has left without reason
has gone I know not where.
I tried my best to keep her
but my best wasn’t good enough.
Though she’s gone her essence lingers
near the shadows of the room,
her perfume freqrants the air
and it feels as if she’s still here.
I’ve tried to think of what to do
with the emptiness in my life,
but no answer comes to me.
All I can think about
is the way things used to be.
If she came back today,
I’d welcome her without hesitation.
I wouldn’t question her leaving
I’d accept any explanation,
but she’s not coming back
today or ever.
Now I’ll have to pick up the threads
of what life there is left in me.
2-3 October 1984
poem by David Harris
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Friendship
she looks for you in your garden
not for any other reason
like the day before when she
wants to see you with her new hair
today is completely different she says
she simply misses you
that there is an emptiness that only you can fill
half the joys half the sorrows
and then both of them lay on the grass and speak
about a very fine day
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Miss Otis Regrets
Miss otis regrets, she's unable to lunch today, madam,
Miss otis regrets, she's unable to lunch today.
She is sorry to be delayed,
But last evening down in lover's lane she strayed, madam,
Miss otis regrets, she's unable to lunch today.
When she woke up and found that her dream of love was gone, madam,
She ran to the man who had led her so far astray,
And from under her velvet gown,
She drew a gun and shot her love down, madam,
Miss otis regrets, she's unable to lunch today.
When the mob came and got her and dragged her from the jail, madam,
They strung her upon the old willow across the way,
And the moment before she died,
She lifted up her lovely head and cried, madam......
Miss otis regrets, she's unable to lunch today.
Miss otis regrets, she's unable to lunch today
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't write poems
I don't write poems,
I drink them like wine,
I become tipsy
with each coming line.
I don't write poems,
I breathe them like air,
I become so happy
when each one I share.
I don't write poems,
I live with them;
they prolong my years,
they are as true as I am.
I don't write poems,
I weave into verses
sadness, joy, tears,
prayers, love, curses…
My poems talk and sing,
Sense of living they bring.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
26th of April,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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