I Am Far Away From Where I Am
I AM FAR AWAY FROM WHERE I AM
I am far away from where I am-
I often am-
It is not that there are two sides of me
Or three or four
It is not that I know anything about who
My real self is-
I suppose ‘I am' all the time I am conscious
And what that means I also don't know-
There are so many questions and so many questions -
I am here now
I am writing this
Soon I will be on my way to Minchah
I have done the shopping today
And walked from ‘Rami Levi' in the rain
My wife and I have talked and talked
About many things
I spoke with my daughter also
This afternoon I will meet with a friend
Another ailing friend will have to wait next week for a visit-
I know that all the details of a life
Do not tell us what a self is,
But without our histories
What are we?
I felt that I was far away from where I am when I began this poem,
Now I don't know exactly where I am-
Far or not-
I am just sitting writing here
A rainy day in spring
And nearly seventy years behind me-
My real self is a question
And I will ask it I suppose as long as I continue thinking
On this earth -
I don't mind not knowing
I after all assume I do know-
Life has many contradictions
And unsolved questions-
Who we really are even to ourselves
Is one of them-
Thank God there has been so much Love and Goodness
From other people in my life
And that there is still now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Probing Questions
Is there something more to life, than endless days of toil and strife?
Is there something after all of this; a Hell below or a Heavenly Bliss?
Can there truly be life after death, this when we take our final breath?
That question always asked is why; do innocent people have to die?
Why do righteous people perish, while evil seems to always flourish?
Friend is there truly a Living God, who rules above the earth we trod?
And does God truly care for us; mortal beings that return to the dust?
Can anyone have true peace of mind, in this world that is so unkind?
Why’s there evil darkness everywhere, if He is a God filled with care?
And why would a God full of love, simply sit and watch from above?
These are just a few of many more, questions asked about my Lord,
Questions that you may have asked; some in the not so distant past.
Many questions are Satan’s reproof, to keep many from God’s Truth,
Let none of them keep you from, Christ who from Heaven has come,
With answers to these and more, on questions about Heaven’s Door.
The Spirit leads to God’s Word, with the answers to questions heard,
Eternal answers which you will find, fill your heart not just your mind.
Where God not just answers them, but gives new life to all my friend.
Then all the questions are second to, the Eternal Life He’s given you.
And now an answer in my life, is to Heaven I’m going in Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©06/2007)
Life Gets Me To Wonder
(10/01/11)
Life gets me to wonder, life gets me to think
Am I losing my mind, am I on the brink.
So many questions that enter my mind every day
I think hard about one, and the rest seem to fade away.
Once I find the answer then to the next level I will go
It’s amazing - how god lets us know.
Every question and every answer is a step
That we must climb - and we’ll continue to do this
Till the end of our time.
We will always have questions - that’s why
God gave us a mind.
Knowledge is power on that I don’t deny.
But there are more questions than any of us care to admit
And when we can’t answer them - we surely catch a fit.
Questions about health, love, work, religion
Just to name a few - this list goes on
What are we supposed to do.?
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Instead Of Being A Pessimist
You want answers to your questions?
Ask yourself this...
What began the origin of those questions.
And...
How did they begin for you to exist.
You want a life you like?
Oppose to the one you don't?
Why have you chosen to dislike what you do?
And who enforced this dislike upon you.
Do you live with wishes to fulfill your dreams?
Or are you focused on others,
Who seem to have 'your' things.
Are you focused upon others,
Who seem to be living your life?
Doing those things,
You wish for you also to like?
Perhaps those questions you ask,
Are not yours afterall.
And perhaps those answers,
That have come to you answered...
You ignored them to disbelieve,
Those answers received...
Were not yours.
Because you spend your time,
In the minding of other people's business!
And your business,
You haven't given your time to see...
Succeed.
But your time is spent,
Lamenting others you despise and criticize.
You want answers to your questions?
Wait for therm patiently to come.
Before you impatiently decide,
To get up and leave.
Believing they can be found,
With you not around.
You want answers to your questions?
Ask yourself this...
What began the origin of those questions.
And...
How did they begin for you to exist?
Ask yourself that.
Instead of being a pessimist!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Alone, Writing A Poem With A Song
I was alone listening to a love/sad song
Searching, thinking ideas with imagination
To create a story in a form of a poem
Holding my pen and start writing it down
Since I like the lyrics with meaning so i sing along
Imagine life living alone with only a song
No one to talks to wh hears my opinion
Through song I express my emotion
Writing a poem which replies all my questions
And share to people that would give inspiration.
While writing a poem with a sad song
Something came across my mind
Remembered those things I had in my past
Which never get lost, I hate it but it last
My life which is filled with sufferings, I wish it would cast.
Alone, writing a poem with a sad song
My eyes covered by tears and let it fall
I cried and shout out loud to ease my pain
Just like a cloudy sky and pours as rain.
I keep on repeating the whole song till I finished my poem
Feared to forget the words and its definition
I happened to memorize the lyrics and become a favourite
A song that has been part of my life
And makes me live though I am alone.
eplies
poem by Judith Kempis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Always Asking Questions
We all want peace we dont want misery
So many of us wont let us be these things
But we only are confused
We feel stronger as we grow older
But still we feel bemused
Always asking questions
Were always asking questions
And the temptation is to just step back
Well we give what we lack
We will always be asking questions
Why rich?
Why poor?
Always asking questions
Were always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Were always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Always asking
Dont stop asking
Dont stop asking questions
Always asking questions
In answer to this question is just shut up
You dont know
I dont know
Nobody knows
This is an answer to every question
This is a place to begin
Always asking questions
Always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Why this?
Why that?
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Words: william bryant
Music: howard jones
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Questions
I don't remember my first question asked
Might have been to my mother while in my crib I basked
Or maybe it was to my father when he kissed me goodnight
Then he said a prayer for me and then he turned off the light.
Many questions I have asked since the day I was born
Many questions I have answered and many I did mourn
Some of them were the truth, but them I had masked
I don't remember why, but I remember they were asked.
Questions are needed to understand our life
Answers are needed so we too might avoid strife
Life is full of questions and are as many as drops of rain
And like rain drops not two questions are really the same.
Questions will be a part of us until that day we die
We will come across them daily with who, what, where or why
I dread not the future, but I do dread the past
I also dread the day, not knowing which question of mine will be last.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Walked Last Night In A District I Lived In For Almost Twenty Years
I WALKED LAST NIGHT IN A DISTRICT I LIVED IN FOR ALMOST TWENTY YEARS
I walked last night in a district I lived in for almost twenty years
I came back after being away for a time
To visit an old and ailing friend
The streets were empty and lonely as they often were then-
I thought for the first time I understood how lonely the district itself is-
‘A lonely district’
I wondered how I managed to live there all those years
And how anyone still manages to live there-
I looked up at the sky and wrote in my mind a small poem of a kind I wrote many of in my years there
I remembered teachers and friends who had lived there
No longer of this district or any district on earth
I wondered how life goes and how from so many years so much life has been lived without having any place in my memory
I felt as empty inside as the district without
I did not have to wait long for the bus
And relieved inside it I put my heart to home
So many years had been lived there
I remembered taking my small children to the playground there
Now they thank G-d have children of their own
Oh the years go by and the life we have lived in them largely dies
Forever to be unknown again-
I put my heart and mind in a different direction
And began to do what I always do – not think of the district again
Life is this mystery and question we live through and never wholly possess even as we are experiencing it
How long before all will be gone for me
Including the district I live in now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Suppose
I've given up everything for you
I thought you were different
I thought you were true
But for some reason
I don't blame you.
Now I sit and wait
Staring at the closed gate
Sitting by a tree
All alone with only me
Now I see
I can do so much with time
My only wish is you were mine
That would be my time well spent
If one day it ever comes to an end.
I could do so much with time
If only you were mine
Now I know
I should have never let you go
But I screwed up again
I suppose.
We haven't talked in forever
It's obvious we're not together
I miss you so
But I want you to know.
As I sit and wait
Staring at this closed gate
There's nothing I'd want more
Than to have you here with me
So you could see
I can do so much with time
My only wish is you were mine
That would be my time well spent
If one day it ever comes to an end.
I could do so much with time
If only you were mine
Now I know
I should have never let you go
I tried to push you away
Now I think about you every freaking lonely day
I love you so
I'd never let you go
I had you so close
But I screwed up again
I suppose.
Yesterday I talked to you
And yesterday we talked it through.
Now I know everything is right
When I can't stop thinking about you tonight.
As I sit and wait
Staring at the closed gate
Sitting by a tree
Now together you're with me
It would be impossible to see.
I can do so much with time
Still my only wish is you were mine
I know we're friends
But I want us to be more
Before the end
It'd be impossible
I suppose.
But there's only one sure way to know.
I'm taking my time
I'm asking you
Will you be true
Will you be mine
What you will say
I do not know
But there I go again
I suppose.
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Questions Above
Many questions, seventy times seven, may be asked once in Heaven,
Our thoughts about the patriarchs, one or more questions this sparks,
Or maybe questions about this life, just why so much pain and strife?
Or the things we can't comprehend; may prompt questions in the end.
But with a pure mind and heart, many of those questions shall depart,
This when we enter into Eternal Life, now, with the pure mind of Christ,
Former things remembered no more, as we step on that eternal shore,
With an eternal mindset instead, as past is behind with Eternity ahead.
The things we could not comprehend, shall come to light at that bend,
The final turn at the end of our life, as we see the face of Jesus Christ,
With our glorified body and mind, those former things are well behind,
Many questions we may have asked, may be faded things of our past.
Most things from the former time, shall pale in the light of the sublime,
As the Crystal Sea and streets of gold, with our Lord our eyes behold,
Mindful now, of the things to come, as we enter, His Eternal Kingdom,
A Kingdom that shall not pass away, one, where we'll be there to stay,
Many things that we now ponder, may fade away as we get up yonder,
Earthly things will lose their allure, as we begin a new life for evermore,
Many questions now thought of, will likely fade in His presence above,
As Christ answers more than we ask, when we begin, that Eternal Task.
The real questions are the ones that obtrude upon your consciousness whether you like it or not, the ones that make your mind start vibrating like a jackhammer, the ones that you "come to terms with" only to discover that they are still there. The real questions refuse to be placated. They barge into your life at the times when it seems most important for them to stay away. They are the questions asked most frequently and answered most inadequately, the ones that reveal their true natures slowly, reluctantly, most often against your will.
quote by Ingrid Bengis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Did You Ever Question Why?
Do you have a purpose in life, amidst the struggles and the strife?
A purpose that will forever endure, in the work of Christ our Lord.
Do you have an ultimate end, which you are striving for my friend?
Things on earth will cease to be, with the ultimate end in Eternity.
Friend, did you ever question why; we are born to just simply die?
From your very initial breath, you live to one day anticipate death.
Is it not simply natural for us, to live and to die and return to dust?
But being created like The Son, when we die The Lord isn’t done.
Just where did all life originate, could it simply be one big mistake?
Life is such an awesome design, much too grand to evolve in time.
Just when did it all come to be, and is there a place called eternity?
A place without beginning friend, and one that simply has no end.
Why would anyone truly believe, in a place they can not conceive?
For no one can truly conceive, what God has for those who believe.
Is there something to this hope, that supplies men power to cope?
To cope with all the struggles in life, in the power of Jesus Christ.
Friend, did you ever want to know, when you die where do you go?
Heaven and Hell are truly real, eternally my friend, it’s a done deal.
Still ahead there is an eternity, a timeless place where all shall be.
All questions you have today, will be answered in a permanent way.
Question now your eternal state, it’s not chance or the finger of fate.
So would you on this day believe, and in your heart by faith receive,
As Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and He will grant you Eternal Life.
Then questions will cease to be, as you enter with Him into Eternity.
(Copyright ©10/2005)
The Poem I Did Not Write Today
THE POEM I DID NOT WRITE TODAY
The poem I did not write today
Will never be written.
No one knows what it is
Or where it is
'How it can be? ' is another question
No one can answer.
The poem I did not write today
Never went away
It is always here with me and with you
It is the same simple poem
Written over and over again
In our everyday minds.
It is the poem of love of life
The poem of happiness
The poem of belief in God
And in the goodness in the world to come
It is the poem which believes too that poetry will help save the world.
It is the good poem
The happy poem
The poem I did not write today
Is the poem my life is writing now and always
And with you it says
‘What a miracle it is that we are here
reading and writing
and loving life as we do’.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Angels
Angels..
do you believe in angels?
do angels believe in you?
which question, the more sensible?
suppose angels
to know greatly more than us..
suppose, that’s why they’re there…
suppose, they know space is not fully real:
enter it knowingly, to deliver us
a holy message, wearing whiteness, light,
which would announce them
truthful, good of all good, and beautiful..
suppose, they know time is not fully real:
enter it knowingly, to deliver us
a message that’s eternal, phrased
in terms of human life, direct, immediate;
suppose them, to be untroubled
by human frailty: knowing all
they need to know; messengers
of love beyond all love;
rejoicing in the heavenly joy
of living under perfect law..
suppose… suppose…
that all this living metaphor,
so recognisable to human mind,
lives in each human heart..
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Gossiper
(9/15/12)
She was well to do, and had more
Money than me and you.
She loved to gossip and put people down
it mattered not- who was around.
She talked about everyone that she knew
And wouldn't let you leave till she was through.
She talked about her neighbors and her friends
And put them down to the bitter end.
They said she was lonely and didn't have a life
But who in the world would make her " his wife"?
Now the years have taken its toll
And she's gotten very old.
But! There was someone " who had done just that"
And she became bitter and fat.
She had married at a very young age
To a man who was twice her age.
After a few years he passed away
And she became even more bitter and enraged.
That is when she started to talk
About all who was around
And enjoyed the fact of putting people down.
Soon no one came to visit any more
For she had closed all the doors
They had gotten tired of trying
To be her friend, when she talked
About them - to no end.
There was nothing that could stop
Her wagging tongue, even as she
Was in her dying bed.
She talked about the living and the dead.
When the time came and she was laid to rest.
They said there was two coffins laid in the ground.
One for her body and one for her tongue
So she could not talk to anyone.
(the comical moral of this story)
: Don't talk without knowing- cause
Your tongue don't know where it's going.
© L. RAMS
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Deed Of A Friend....
A friend in need is a friend in deed, it is said;
A friend capable of helping by deed is needed.
There are many lip service friends everywhere;
Sans requesting and talk a friend should know
What another friend needs to be done in work!
“If you do this I will do that” is not nice of a friend;
This is done in business friendship but not in life.
This kind of business attitude is not long to follow;
That kind of friendship is not for long to continue.
Friend means one should be ready for anything!
A real friend does everything out of love for another;
That kind of friend is the need of a good friend here.
That friend does all for his friend to come up soon
And there lies real friendship lasting forever anywhere!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Uneventful Life
We all say at times we live uneventful lives
and I am no exception to that rule.
However, looking back
at the uneventful events in my life
I see my life might not be as uneventful as I thought.
At thirteen
I won an inter-school competition
for a painting that I did
and had, it exhibited
at the Royal Canadian National Exhibition.
Up until I was seventeen,
I never wanted to drive a car.
The thought of doing so
terrified me completely,
then one night while out with some friends
we were involved in a head-on car crash.
In the weeks that followed, I learned to drive.
At eighteen
I took up writing after saying to a friend,
“If they can do it why can’t we? ”
The reference of they was to the Beatles.
At twenty-one
while at a fun fair
I wrote what was suppose to be some lyrics,
but turned out to be a poem
that eventually would be my best loved poem
and read by thousands worldwide.
At twenty-five,
I attended the funeral of a friend
and eventually ended up marrying his widow.
At fifty-five,
I discovered a brother I never knew I had.
At sixty-one,
a classmate contacted me,
lifting me from the doldrums turned my life around.
Someone whom I never talked to
when we were at school,
but who has become a wonderful friend
and extension of my family.
If you take away these little events,
my life has been pretty boring
bordering on the mundane
and very uneventful.
3 September 2009
Authors Note:
This is just a few of the uneventful things that have happened in my life. There are more, but to put them in one poem would make it too long to put up here. Thanks for reading about my uneventful and very boring and mundane life.
Hugs David Harris 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Those Years Of Separation.....
years separated us
when we meet again there will
be usual questions like
how is life? did you marry?
how many kids? how old are they now?
where do you work?
where do you live now?
i am tired of all these questions,
frankly i am not interesting and nothing interests me
perhaps
i was made sour by all those years,
but sometimes i may compromise
(but not a civil as you may think me to be) and
so i have my answers now, like
life is not really that miserable.
i got married, no kids only dogs in the house
(not applicable) ,
oh i work with a gavel,
and i live in my navel.
perhaps i am just dissatisfied with what
life has given me,
and you who claim to have kids like grapes
work like heaven, house like a castle,
and you who is like a story with a
happily ever after ending,
well, thank God, you are like everybody else,
you own a wife, and kids and house,
yourself is multiplied, your face is xeroxed,
your wealth is not just well preserved but
progressed like
hell,
you have chattels and servants and perhaps slaves
and submarines and nuclear weapons,
you have a brand new car,
an excellent paycheck,
by all means, to my mind, you are a superhero
and you have everything
everything
and yet, oh well, just like rest of the people in this world
you are never, never contented, you still ask for more
how much? how long? how wide? no one knows.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Moonyeen
frail lady Emily Dickenson
That is moonyeen
the girl of the night of chat
the student of the law website
asking questions
about some directions
what to do with her life
where to go
why
she is asking why
she is asking me why
i am making all things hard for her
as i threw questions of law and facts from a pile of law books
while i keep on writing my poetry and enjoying every situation
she has to read her
political law
her constitutional law with utmost logical objectivity
she is asking why i have made life hard and harsh for her
why i am cold and damp setting high standards on her legal studies
as i enjoy my craft of writing poems everyday
for days she is sad and would not chat
she shuts herself to all her difficult questions
while i
have sweet conversations with myself
i know her predicament though
she burns her candles with the law
while i sit peacefully under the cool shades of the trees
reciting all these love of life this zest for living
on the other hand moonyeen had to study her law
submit to the definitions of justice and equity
i have had all of that unjust stuff for years those dusty law years
and they serve no other purpose but for me to earn my living
to support my poetry and my love for this silly stuff
nonetheless makes me fully human fully alive!
these poetry which at the end will render
a disposition
who ever told you that life is fair?
whoever told you in the name of all our laws that life is fair?
that is the question assigned for moonyeen not just for this semester
but for the whole span of her lifetime
while i make my poems and read them all alone for myself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Only A Poem Can Save Me Tonight
ONLY A POEM CAN SAVE ME TONIGHT
Only a poem can save me tonight
The heat has been too much
Also the feeling of illness.
I cannot move my mind very much
But a few lines I can write.
Are they a poem?
Is this a poem?
Long ago I began to hear the words which came from within me
As poetry.
They had a real music of their own
Even now I suppose I can hear them
I write to make my life meaningful
Is this a poem?
The heat and the feeling of illness do not matter-
I am writing this down
As if it were Poetry.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Mystery Remains
Sometimes when I am working
I notice shadows moving
out of the corner of my eye.
Their shapes are assorted,
animal and human,
but when I look around
the shadows are gone.
I know some act as a warning
of some imminent thing to come.
Don’t ask me how I know,
just suffice to say I do.
Throughout my life,
strange and unexplained things
have happen to me.
It is if I’m channelling energy
from some unknown source.
I remember back in the 1960’s
when I was just beginning writing,
I made a friend in London
and we planned to get together
to write some songs.
I received a letter about a week before
I was to go and meet him.
Reading the letter,
he seemed filled with the joys of spring,
but then I thought of a conversation
in which he said he was going
to give up writing all together.
A week later, I had that conversation with him
almost word for word
only for real this time.
To this day, it baffles me
why someone feeling happy
and looked forward to something.
Would a week later want to chuck it all in,
but it really happened that way
and the mystery remains
with me to this very day.
3 March 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!