En.Citatepedia^®.ro

I Did Not Need Or Want To Be Anyone But Myself

I DID NOT NEED OR WANT TO BE ANYONE BUT MYSELF

I did not need or want to be anyone but myself-
But was my self a self worth being?
I did not want to be Wallace Stevens
I did not want to be Wordsworth
I did not want to be Hopkins or Dickinson or Blake or Yeats-
They were all who they were
And a blessing to many-

I just want to be who I am
But am I a self worth being?
Or am I just a person
Whose name is namelessness?

I suppose I can live with my own namelessness
And my not being one of those with a real name-
I suppose I can live with being only who I am
However unworthy that is

Name or not, nameless or not
After all
I am only who I am -
And I will only pass this way one time-
Name or not.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Suppose a smile.

Suppose a smile.

Suppose it always, with a smile.

Suppose the sun to shine,
shine with a smile;

suppose the rain to fall and smile
smile at the earth;
the snow, with gentle smile,
protecting tender shoots;

suppose the wind to smile
mysteriously, about its secretwork;

suppose – that’s easy – flowers
to open with a smile; and
smile as they fade and wave farewell,
a smile that says, that’s how it is…

suppose some patient smiles:
as rain-forests say to those who cut them down,
you’ll live to regret this; here’s
your chance to learn;

suppose the desert sand to smile
and say, you took the trees, and now
I’m here; plant, call down rain, store, irrigate…

suppose the ice-cap, melting with sad smile,
saying, I did not choose…

suppose that Abraham, Moses, Christ, Mohammed
spoke their uncompromising, uncomfortable truths
always with a smile; a gentle smile;
a smile to say, I'm here, you're here to learn...

suppose the spear to smile,
hammered into pruning-hook..

suppose smile met with smile.

Suppose.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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No Tears

tears roll down his checks
as he muttered the words “she’s dead”
I would have stopped
stared as if he was a ghost
and I would have thought
god it’s about time
but as I looked around to the people I loved something came over me
mom and dad were crying,
Ethan, Andy, and even john looked sad
here I was with a smile on my face
how dumb could I be not even act like I care
but the truth really is that I don’t give a shit
about if she had died or not
it’s better for us in the long run anyway
make everyone happier

I’m just a kid so what am I supposed to think when someone
that has made my life and my family’s life miserable
what am I suppose to fell when someone has made me hate coming “home”
what am I suppose to do when many of times I have wished her dead
what am I suppose to say to the person that made me believe I live in hell
am I suppose to lie

what would you do
what would you fell
what would you say
what would you think

I almost feel sorry for not feeling bad
but I don’t
I almost feel sorry for Steve
but yet again why should I care when his parents die
when he didn’t care when my dad died
I will admit there were a couple of minutes
where I felt like a bad person for not feeling bad
but it’s not worth my time
enough tears will be shed from her death
why should I need to contribute to the waterfall

a tear runs down my face
yes a tear
one single tear
yet no tears flow from my eyes
of sadness

poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Are You the New Person Drawn Toward Me?

Are you the new person drawn toward me?
To begin with take warning, I am surely far different from what you suppose;
Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal?
Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover?
Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy'd satisfaction?
Do you think I am trusty and faithful?
Do you see no further than this facade, this smooth and tolerant
manner of me?
Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic man?
Have you no thought O dreamer that it may be all maya, illusion?

poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Are You The New Person, Drawn Toward Me?

ARE you the new person drawn toward me?
To begin with, take warning--I am surely far different from what you
suppose;
Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal?
Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover?
Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy'd satisfaction?
Do you think I am trusty and faithful?
Do you see no further than this façade--this smooth and tolerant
manner of me?
Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic
man?
Have you no thought, O dreamer, that it may be all maya, illusion?

poem by Walt Whitman
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The History Poems Have Not Been Written

The history poems have not been written
The poems after Milosz
The Wallace Stevens poems will never be written
I can’t come close
I have tried the Blake poems
But of course I am not near them either
I would like to the ironic intellectual poems
I might be able to do them
I could do a kind of surrealistic association mind poem a prose poem
But I don’t like that very much
The poems of Jerusalem have not been good enough
Poems of propaganda are awkward and unacceptable
The small poems that tell of my life
They are for me the chance at real poetry
And I will continue as best I can with them
The American poems I have not yet found the idiom for
I can be epigrammatic in Emerson Thoreau fashion
But not with the hard New England observing eye
Borges poems I love
And the stories of mind and literature
Making the drama of a life of a storyteller
Interest me
But I doubt I could truly do them well
Imitation can only take one so far
And through it one may lose one’s way entirely
I can really do only what I am
Not the Dickinson poems nor the Hopkins poems nor the Wordsworth poems nor the Keats poems nor the Amichai poems nor the poems of many others whose poetry I love
The Biblical poems have been tried
The poems of cosmic and scientific reflection
I could try to improve them
There are too many different kinds of poems to write
And I cannot write almost all of them
This is another poem about poems and poetry
I have written many for a long time now
Perhaps I need to go elsewhere and write in a new way
A way I have not dreamed or even remotely understood possible before.
The poems of the unknown poetry await me
I will go on but I am not sure now I know in which wa

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Who You Are

Someone's drinking all alone
Someone's left the TV on
I don't suppose, no I don't suppose
Someone's sleeping in my bed
Someone's let the genie in
I don't suppose, no I don't suppose
You know who you are
Who you are, who you are today
Baby's gone and died again
Taken by the tide again
And it's no surprise
She hates goodbyes
Someone's folding paper planes
Someone's on the line again
Someone's crying at the sonnet
Someone's hiding from someone
I don't suppose, no I don't suppose
You know who you are
Who you are, who you are today

song performed by by Tears For Fears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suppose We Should Feel Happy

Suppose we should feel happy for to live another day
When one more wealthy person by the reaper called away
Into the life hereafter if there be such a thing
Who can say of this paradise where happy angels sing.

Suppose we should feel happy though circumstance we curse
We may not have much money though things could be far worse
And we ought to count our blessings for our good gift of health
Though it would seem a bonus to add to that some wealth.

Suppose we should feel happy and we ought not complain
If we can't afford the roof repairs though it always leaks in rain
This is the Christian principle 'be happy with your lot'
But how can you feel happy if money you haven't got? .

Suppose you should feel happy though the rent is overdue
And the landlord for his payment is pressurizing you
And your fridge is almost empty and not much food left to eat
And you and your wife and two young children might soon be on the street.

Suppose we should feel happy though we are in the red
And we can't sleep for worrying we toss and turn in bed
And the refrigerator is empty and the child cry to be fed
And suppose we should feel happy 'those words are easily said'.

poem by Francis Duggan
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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
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There You were

There you were

You’re always laughing at me
Is that how life’s supposed to be?
Each night I cry
Don’t tell me you don’t know why

But I rose up to live once more
From the grave of my depression.
You were too blind to see my real worth
But I lived again

There you were abusing me
Torturing my life inside out
I still don’t know why
Is that how life’s supposed to be?

But I rose up to live once more
From the grave of my depression
You were too blind to see my real worth
But I lived again

A day won’t go by
When I think of you
How cruel you were to me
And how I became stronger
Day by day
From the thoughts of you
Giving and not taking
From me, for me

And I rose up to live once more
From the grave of my depression
You were too blind to see my real worth
And I lived again

Now you are helping me
That’s how life’s supposed to be
There you are being a friend
But is it true until the end?

And you raised me up to live once more
From the grave of my depression
You re-gained your sight and saw my worth
And you lived again

There you were

poem by Lyrael Myrna
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If There Is A God 'Twould Seem To Me

If there is a God 'twould seem to me that God would not have a creed
Or would not favour any religious belief such divisive influences a supreme being would not need
Amongst his or her Earthly followers the real God would rule for everyone
A real God would act as a real God should when all is said and done.

Amongst his flock for even an atheist the real God would find a place
And a real God would not differentiate between Nationality and Race
Those who say the God they believe in is the one true God they do have it all wrong
If there is a God surely that God to everyone does belong.

A real God is for her and him as well as you and me
A real God is for everyone though you do not agree
Only in the God of your religion the true God you do see
Suppose as some are known to say we all look at things differently.

If there is a God it does seem to me that God is of human kind
And every good person he or she the real God lives in their mind
And whether you live as an atheist or to a God you do pray
As long as you are a good person with me that is okay.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Blake has always been a favorite, the lyrics, not so much the prophetic books, but I suppose Yeats influenced me more as a young poet, and the American, Robert Frost.

quote by Anne Stevenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dangerous Pastime

Is it a blessing,
To have nine lives?
Is it a blessing,
To Know no lies?

Is it a blessing,
To seek the Truth?
Is it a blessing,
To lose one's youth?

Is it a blessing,
To think these thoughts,
As Death takes sips,
From our life draughts?

Is it a blessing,
To hold her hand,
As it slowly fades,
And turns to sand?

Is it a blessing,
To die with her,
Or live on still,
A lonely cur?

And do my thoughts,
Yet waste my time?
And do your thoughts,
Still coincide?

And shall we walk,
And wish to fly,
And ask the skies,
For just more time?

Shall we yet wait
Your hand in mine?
And listen still
For a reply?

Or shall we live,
Woman and man,
And spend our time,
The best we can?

Curiosity killed the cat,
But the cat has nine lives.

Eight left,
what's next,
A dangerous pet
And a dangerous pastime!

poem by William Blake Beckett
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There Are No Minutes Kept Backed Up

There are no minutes kept backed up,
To put aside to decide to live them.
There are no minutes that can be stored as such,
For one to decide life is worth living.
There are no minutes kept backed up.
None one can say they have wrapped up.
There is no one on Earth with that much luck...
To decide when their life is worth the living.

People think they should be shown some proof,
That a life they live is worth the living.
While they isolate themselves locked up in coops,
To decide that a life they live is worth the living.
While awaiting for someone to approve what they do,
That a life given to them is worth the living.
With a choosing of every move...
Excusing some choices while others are removed.
To clarify that a life they live is worth the living.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mrs. Benjamin Painter

I know that he told how I snared his soul
With a snare which bled him to death.
And all the men loved him,
And most of the women pitied him.
But suppose you are really a lady, and have delicate tastes,
And loathe the smell of whisky and onions.
And the rhythm of Wordsworth's "Ode" runs in your ears,
While he goes about from morning till night
Repeating bits of that common thing;
"Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?"
And then, suppose:
You are a woman well endowed,
And the only man with whom the law and morality
Permit you to have the marital relation
Is the very man that fills you with disgust
Every time you think of it--while you think of it
Every time you see him?
That's why I drove him away from home
To live with his dog in a dingy room
Back of his office.

poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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A special gift

Life is from Him as a special gift
Let us have some goal and no more shift
Instead of dreaming let us do some worthwhile
Think of reality and surge ahead for an extra mile

Life will be over as days may pass by
Thoughts alright but given a worth try
Let it not be wasted for silly reasons
We need to act as nice and wise person.

Spend the time as honestly as possible
Try to prove worth and stay stable
They are all part of life and to be withstood
It has some messages behind and must be understood

Even if nothing goes well and proves hell
We are suppose to bear and not allowed to tell
It brings down your credit worthiness
There may be then lots of adverse criticism to face

It has to be lived with happiness and determination
At no stage it must develop any kind of alienation
Try to slow down the space but definitely avail

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Let's Just Suppose

Let’s just suppose
That over four thousand young men
Got jobs and got married
Became normal Americans and then

Let’s just suppose
These same young men of our new generation
Stayed home and avoided
Nightmares and mutilation

Let’s just suppose
Over four thousand lives were sadly expended
In a hostile land, so far away
In a war built on lies, and is yet open-ended

Let’s just suppose
That many untold billions in funds
Had over four thousand of those young men
Building our country, in lieu of bearing guns

Let’s just suppose
That instead, billions were spent on education
On infrastructure, medical research and homeland defense
Lives better spent, to build a better, stronger nation

Let’s just suppose
That the mad minds in our administration
Had Instead, kept those heroic young boys
safe at home, while still defending our nation

Let’s just wonder
amidst all the war-wager’s noise
Was this one man…Saddam Housein
Worth more than four thousand of our young boys?

Let’s just suppose
This madness we could suspend
All stand together and say “enough is enough.”
We’re not the world’s policemen
This madness must end!

Let’s just propose….
To bring our young men
Back home.

poem by David Whalen
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Suppose

Suppose no rose would ever grow again
Suppose no brook would ever flow again
Suppose no star should ever glow again
Suppose you didn't love me
Suppose there were no bees or butterflies
Suppose no bird should ever cross the skies
Suppose the sun should never never rise
Suppose you didn't love me
It's impossible to imagine a world without a star
But imagining no you is more impossible, by far
Suppose the Springtime never should arrive
Suppose the tall green trees should not survive
Suppose I had no wish to be alive
Suppose you didn't love me
It's impossible to imagine a world without a star
But imagining no you is more impossible, by far
Suppose the Springtime never should arrive
Suppose the tall green trees should not survive
Suppose I had no wish to be alive
Suppose you didn't love me
Suppose you didn't love me

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Suppose to Be Vain

I am suppose to be vain.
You know...
Someone who loves to be on stage.
Because of an exterior presence.
I have been told I am handsome.
So naturally I want the attention.

I am suppose to be vain.
You know...
Someone who speaks, walks
And chew gum at the same time.
With a detectable intelligence too?
Seeking adulation,
That's all I am suppose to do.

I am suppose to be vain.
Because I choose to work hard.
And apply my abilities.
Since I am extremely dedicated,
To my capable creativity.
And it seems I do all of this effortlessly...
I am suppose to be vain!

'WELL...
Are you? '

I am biased!
Not vain.
There is a huge difference between the two.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Literary Envy

LITERARY ENVY

Not Shakespeare
Not Tolstoy
Not Kafka Joyce Proust
Not Keats Yeats Wordsworth
Not Hopkins Dickinson
Not Whitman
Not I.B. Singer
Not Hemingway
Not Bellow
Not even Philip Roth
Updike or Salinger.

Not any of the writers
Whose work I love and admire.

Not even the living names now
Who will cease to be
Names In Time.

Like the great mass of mankind
When I die
I will not be in the Consciousness
Of future generations.

I will not be.
I will be ‘not’.

I

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Suppose There Is a Valid Reason?

Do I forgive those who knowingly deceive?
No!

'Suppose it's their first time?
Suppose there is a valid reason?
Suppose there is a good excuse,
As to why they do it?
Sup...
Hello?
Hello?
You still there?
Can you hear me?
Is anybody there?
Hello...? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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