A Few Kind Words
A FEW KIND WORDS
A few kind words
From a stranger far away
Makes my poem mean more
Than I can by myself make.
Poem of the evening
Little lines
Go forth into the hearts and minds
Of those kind readers
Who care.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
What Is A Kind Poem?
What is a kind poem?
One whose lines
Are small gifts of Beauty
One who helps readers in distress
know again Happiness however small-
One who somehow touches those deeply hurt
And balms their souls?
A kind poem gives and helps and cares in such a way
That suddenly at the end of the poem
The reader knows
There is still to be Light and Beauty in themselves
and in their world.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Make A Poem A Poem?
What makes a poem a poem
Is it the story it tells
The feeling it sells.
what makes a poem a poem
is it the history it shows
or the letters of word flow
do the lines mater it they rhyme
or not, can it be free verse of
abcabc line schem,
What makes a poem a poem
is it the words i repeat
Or the emotion they cove.
What makes a poem a poem
War Is Not A Poem
WAR IS NOT A POEM
War is not a poem-
Death is not a poem-
Destruction is not a poem-
Kindness is a poem,
But how can one make the unkind, kind?
Cruelty is not a poem,
But how can one make the cruel- kind?
We are in a war with a cruel people
We are a kind people
But to be in war is to be cruel
Even against one’s best intentions.
We do not want war
But they are cruel
And we try to survive-
War is not a poem
Even when we are in it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem I Am Writing Now
The poem I am writing now
does not know if it will be finished
it does not even know if it will be a poem -
it is slowly appearing line by line
and making its own meaning on the page-
Is it worth anything?
will anyone care?
I don't know -
The poem I am writing now
is just these lines
and these lines like all lines
are only small words
in a vast universe
that has long lived
and will probably longer live
without them.
Why then write these words now?
The poem I am writing now is saying,
'I am here now'.
But why should this mean anything to anyone else?
The poem I have written here
is not the poem I would have posted here
It is only the poem I am finishing now
a poem without great love or belief in itself.
The poem I am writing now
is written.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Mood
A POEM MOOD
The thin clear ordinary mind
Is not for Poetry-
One needs a Deep Doubleness within-
A certain kind of Ironic Longing-
A calling out for Meaning
That knows it cannot ever Define itself completely-
A Poem Mood
Is a different kind of Being.
One can sometimes make it come-
One can sometimes respond to it,
And make the Poem with it.
But is not so simple
And not so easy.
I have the Mind and Mood of a Poem now-
But how many would – be poetic lines have I written
Including these perhaps
Without it?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wanted A Poem / Which Would Take Me Beyond Myself
I wanted a poem
Which would take me beyond myself
Which would make me feel the Beauty
Of this world
In a new way.
I wanted a poem
Whose music really was of the stars
A poem of the kind
That makes you feel alive
And know what you want
To live for in this world.
I wanted a poem
I would love and believe in
Always
And whenever I walked
Would be with me
To say over and over again.
I wanted you
But you did not want
Me.
The poem is someone else’s
And I am alone with my
Words.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem Of The Evening
THE POEM OF THE EVENING
The poem of the evening
Is a small poem
It waits for its own words
And hears itself come slowly and surely
It knows by the time the darkness is here
It will already be real.
The poem of the evening
Is an easy and small poem
It may not mean much
But it comes so smoothly
It seems to laugh at the heat of the day
And love itself for being here.
The poem of the evening
After the long day
Is a happy poem
And it looks forward to praying the evening prayer forever.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Orphan's Friend
Come all kind, good people,
With sympathizing hearts,
Come listen to a few kind words
A friend to you imparts.
Be kind to an orphan child,
And always be its friend,
You will be happy in this world,
And will be to the end.
Be kind to the motherless,
Little motherless ones,
For God will forever bless
You in this world to come.
No kind and loving mother
To soothe their little brow,
Be kind to them always, friends,
They have no mother now.
Be kind to the fatherless,
Wherever you may find
One little one that is friendless,
I pray you all be kind.
For it has no loving father,
To speak with mild reproof,
Or guide its youthful footsteps
In honesty and truth.
Be kind to the little orphans,
They have no parents dear;
Be kind to the little orphans,
Speak to them words of cheer,
Then they will always love you
For kind and gentle words,
Then God will ever bless you,
For He says so in His word.
poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem About The Poem
The poem about the poem
And what is a poem?
And what is a poet?
And will the poem
Save me?
Help you?
And is writing the poem
The best I can do?
Or is it only words and more words?
Is the poem about the poem
For the poet only?
Or for each one reading and speaking and hearing it?
The poem about the poem
On this sunny spring Jerusalem morning
Peace and happiness in me -
The poem about the poem
For now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Are My Kind
ft. Seal
Stay with me baby
And that's all I ask of you
And I know that someday
You won't remember
The way that this moment feels to you
Don't let it go
Don't turn your back on what you think you know
You never know you know
Don't leave it alone
Cause I need you to cling to
[Chorus:]
Cause you are my kind
You're all that I want
Here in this life
Until we are gone
Our breath and our skin
Our hearts and our minds
They're one and the same
You are my kind
Well call on me baby
If you should ever need someone
To help get your head straight
I'll be your resident all night
Sure am glad just having you around
Well all that I know
When you find love you never let it go
You never know you know
Without you I'm lost
I get scattered
I'm shattered
[Chorus:]
Cause you are my kind
You're all that I want
Here in this life
Until we are gone
Our breath and our skin
Our hearts and our minds
They're one and the same
Cause you are my kind
We're one and the same
You are my kind
Don't let it go
Don't turn your back on what you think you know
You never know you know
Don't leave it alone
Cause I need you to cling to
[Chorus:]
Cause you are my kind
You're all that I want
Here in this life
Until we are gone
Our breath and our skin
Our hearts and our minds
They're one and the same
Cause you are my kind
[Bridge]
I love and our life
My heart and my soul
Need you tonight
Your love makes me whole
And it's all I can stand
Until you come home
I need you tonight
Cause you are my kind
I need you tonight
Cause you are my kind
Oh
song performed by by Santana from Shaman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem Was Feelings / Somehow Beyond Words
The poem was feelings
Somehow beyond words-
But without words
It could not be a poem-
There was no poem
There were feelings that wanted to be a poem
And could not-
And there were poems elsewhere
That belonged to other worlds
To other writers and readers.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That elusive perfect poem
Some day I’ll write one…
That won’t garner great numbers
Yet will linger in hearts…and
Rest sweetly on one’s lips
A poem that readers
will want to come back to
A poem that readers will savor
Tasting, …In long, sensuous sips
A poem that warms one’s cockles
Makes one lean back and smile
Makes one glad to have read it
To enjoy my writing…for a while
Maybe place it in their favorites
Hopefully, at least… keep in their hearts
Repeat to themselves favorite phrases
All my descriptive and alliterative parts
Better to have written
Just that one special poem
That could arouse great emotion
Than to write many… that arouse it in none
I have not yet accomplished it
And by me, this feat may ne’er be done
The perfect poem yet eludes me…
Yet I hope… some day I’ll write one
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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