I Have Had Enough Of The Words And The Poems
I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THE WORDS AND THE POEMS
I have had enough of the words and the poems
And the endless sayings which lead only to more words and words
I want to go alone
To the far far distance
Where G-d is home
And there where I am real
Be
What I always dreamed
The loving son of Reuben Kelly and Edith Freedman
A little child
Whose father did not stop screaming in pain
And whose mother simply loved in kindness
No matter whatever was said or done
Because I miss them so still
In my old age
My parents my mother and my father Mom and Dad
They were the only best I ever had
God bless them wherever they are
And will I ever be with them again?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poems About Poems About Poems
Poems about poems about poems-
More poems and more poems and more poems-
Poems poems poems poems poems-
How many poems?
How much poetry
Until there is no poetry at all?
But only 'words' and 'words' and 'words'
Until one goes far away
Where there was never a poem before-
And suddenly hears
“Let there be Light”.
And Poetry perhaps
Is born again.
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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All These Poems About Poems
All these poems about poems
Where do they lead?
The world is so rich in so many other things
Write poems about them.
At twilight I look out
At strangers walking
To do their errands of preparation
for Sukkot.
A poem should have some Beauty in it
And not just be an effort at recording observations-
The scarlet bright flowers rage at me from the distance
I cannot translate their Beauty to words -
There is so much I have seen
And so much I will never write –
And so many Poems beyond my Imagination.
All these poems about my failing at poetry
And about translating the Beauty of the world to words-
This is a poem I not know how to properly finish.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is All Too Much
IT IS ALL TOO MUCH
It is all too much -
Too many words-
Too many poems-
Too much written about poetry-
It is all too much-
And yet what do I have in this,
But myself alone in a room with these words?
The endless ongoing in the search for meaning-
The endless hope for beauty in the making of these sounds
It is not words alone-
It is the heart and soul of what I am-
And perhaps that is too much-
Even for myself.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In This World Of Infinite Words
IN THIS WORLD OF INFINITE WORDS
In this world of infinite words
So many poems have already been written,
Infinite poems in infinite words-
Therefore any new poem simply seems to cry out its own non- necessity-
Yet in a word in a voice
A whole world can be born and transformed-
A new poem a real poem
Can make us forget all the others
And make all the others live through it-
Yet who in this world of infinite words
Can write this poem?
And when will the next set of strangers names come
To show me that my words are nothing?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Like So Many Poems I Read
LIKE SO MANY POEMS I READ
Like so many poems I read
These poems I am reading now
Are not poems to me.
They are too detached
Too abstract
Too up in the air.
I want to hear the words
Make a music of feeling
In my soul.
A poem must move me
If it is to be real.
Why then do I write these words
as if a poem?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Beauty Each Day Gives
THE BEAUTY EACH DAY GIVES
The beauty each day gives
The song and the soul
Beyond my words
Far beyond my words
In the words the music the poems
Of others.
That Beauty is too deep to name.
Oh how I have loved life so much
And how I am going to miss it
When I am not here.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words
Words are my weapon
words are my shield
Guns and knifes just ruin lives
so words I keep concealed
Words are all I have here
they help me struggle on
Words are here forever,
when all I have is gone
In my thoughts or in my poems
Words will help ease my brain
I write down what is on my mind
Expressing love or feeling pain
Not that many I can trust
But words I can depend
Words wont turn there back on you
Words are my only friend
poem by Nic Hillen
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Mothers Love
he relationship of a son towards both his parents is very complex. A son will likely feel a close bond with his mother, yet see his father as an adversary and competitor. When a son sees how his father interacts with his mother he will either attempt to model his father's behavior or reject his father's example of relationships with woman. From the parents' point of view, having a son can be one of the greatest joys they will ever experience but also one of the greatest challenges. Balancing the need to offer freedom to your son while placing appropriate boundaries may be an area of contention.
Source: Son Poems - Poems about Sons
Mother, Father
Mother, father please explain to me
Why a world so full of mystery
A place so bitter and still so sweet
So beautiful and yet so full of sad, sad...
Mother, father please explain to me
Why forests march to desert speed
While snowcapped mountains melt away
What do we tell our babies, when do we say, oh
Mother, father please explain to me
How a man who rocks his child to sleep
Pulls the trigger on his brothers heart
He digs a hole right to the middle of this storm of hatred
Mother, father please explain to me
How it could be so this world has come to be
A precious balance in between
Such cruelty and such kindness please
Mother, father please explain to me
How this world has come to be
Unequaled in her blessings, oh, I see
Unbridled hatred so extreme, please tell me
Mother, father please explain to me
How this world has come to be so
Twisted between time and dreams
Oh, mother, father please explain to me
Oh, whats all this talk about?
All this talk about it
Spinning down, down, down, down, down
All this talk about
Endless words without
Nothings done
Mother, father do you know
Why one mans belly overflows
Another sleeps in hungers bed
Oh, we trade our world for a piece of bread
Oh mother, father please explain to me
How this rare worlds come to be
A place so full of color yet overflowing
Always in black and white
Drowning in the waters of our...
Mother, father please explain to me
How this world has come to be
While still blessed in all the things we see
Such a sad, sad home for you and me
Come out, and hold,
Come on out you
Come on out you
Come and save yourself
Come on out you
Come on were taking the water
Were taken the water
Were taken the water
But you know
We got the freedom
We got the freedom
Theres no God above
And no hell below
Oh, its here with us
Its up to us
To keep afloat
How this sweet world has come to be
Oh to keep afloat
Mother, father please explain to me
How this rare world has come to be
Oh, let the blue planet
Let the blue planet
Mother, father please explain to me
Mother, father please explain
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh The Poems
OH THE POEMS AND THE POEMS AND THE POEMS
Oh the poems and the poems and the poems
Oh the love of Literature
Oh all that stuff
I have given my life to-
Words and meanings and feelings
Pages and pages and pages –
What it is all this literary life for?
When out the window out the door
With our eyes we see in an instant other worlds other dreams?
I don’t know and I will never know
And Literature is certainly far more than I can say it is-
Oh the poems and this poem and this day turning grey
And all my life old and old and more old and more old-
Oh why oh why oh why
And always back to God
My last rescue and refuge and escape
I who have read so much Great Literature
And can only write this-
Oh the why and the oh oh oh and the words
And the whole world of Literature
I would belong to and do not.
Oh the words oh the world oh the Literature
Oh God help me please can’t you please help me a little or not?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wrote A Poem I Could Not Write
I wrote a poem I could not write-
And then when I tried to write it again
Could not write it again -
Poems written and not written
Words and more words
What do they mean?
Paradoxes and games with words
What do they mean?
If there is Beauty in the language
It is one thing
But words just to hear themselves think,
Why should they mean ‘Remembrance'?
Oh Words oh Questions oh Darkness oh Life-
Let me write myself to the grave
Believing at least
That poems too even when they can be written
Have their small unhidden meanings.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Have No Poem Today/ The Poems Have Gone Away
I HAVE NO POEM TODAY/ THE POEMS HAVE GONE AWAY
I have no poem today
The poems have gone away
Words are merely words
Melody unheard.
Where the poems remain
Internal pain,
The music of the stars
So near, so far.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother Is Gone
Recorded by hank williams, sr.
Words and music by hank williams, sr.
Capo: 3rd fret/key: b/play: g
[g] in a little pine grove [c] by the old home
Theres [g] someone whos [d7] restin a-[g] lone [d7]
And [g] there on the the tomb, these [c] words I read
The [g] words were [d7] mother is [g] gone. [g7]
Chours
[c] mother is gone, to her [g] home
Way up in [d7] heaven a-[g] bove [d7]
And my [g] hearts so sad, for the [c] words I read there
The [g] words said [d7] mother is [g] gone.
As I stood alone, with memries of home
The place I left long, long ago
I returned home, but I waited too long
For the words said, mother is gone.
My friends did say, before she went away
She called my name oer and oer
So trustin in gods love, Ill meet her above
Over there on that other shore.
Chorus
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All The Words
ALL THE WORDS
All the words
And all the poems
And all the life
And all the everything
Only lead to one place
We never want to go to-
The dark ground
Where there are
No reveries.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poems Of The Wild Words And Unexpected Meanings
THE POEMS OF THE WILD WORDS AND UNEXPECTED MEANINGS
The poems of the wild words and the unexpected meanings
Escape me -
The surprises of each new line’s metaphors
Are far from my power-
A plodding literal single- mindedness
Informed by small irony
Is all I have.
Poems distant from mine and greater
Inhabit the dreaming worlds,
And I inferior
With lesser words
Persist in making my Mediocrity up.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Simple Poem For My Mother From My Mother
A SIMPLE POEM FOR MY MOTHER FROM MY MOTHER
All I am is a simple poem.
A few words in language
A child can read.
Simple words
Like my beloved mother
Of Blessed Memory’s Talk-
Simple, straight
Sometimes with quiet humor-
Happy trusting loving
And in intention
Good for the other.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lack of Sympathy
She tries to feel sympathy for the boy who cries
Looking deep into his eyes
She wants to comfort him and say it is alright
Most likely though it is not alright
She can’t lie to this boy who will not go
She can tell him that there’s something’s he doesn’t know
She tries to say don’t cry baby for you mother
Begs to believe that someday she’ll see her father
These words do not slip her lips
Because she knows the feel of wrong fingertips
She would have loved to say brother don’t drink and drive tonight
Given up her own life to save him from that terrible sight
Where blood and death made home
But all she does is sit and write about it in poems.
She wants to feel that grace of sympathy
But how can she
So all she says is this
Yes it is horrible to lose a father
Never to return home to say I love you and goodnight
Pleading to God why did he have to go
Yes for your father to be dead when twelve is sad
But for him to touch you when you’re eight you just wish him so
Now You Begin To See The Colors Of My Painting In Words
sadness is painted in some words
that go like a monologue
stuttering at times like one grasping
for breath and yet
still wanting to say more,
you know at first glance
seeing some syllables
about what i feel.......today, the anger that gropes
for words
explosives and
screaming soul while the storms rage on the corner
of the shores
then you ask, needlessly, the words speak for themselves
how is it here
they picture my jagged jaw, my eyes that shout
and curse
sometimes i am surprised with the way my senses
are born
remembering the first cry, the first slap
how it was
for a mother to see my first encounter with reality
how it was
that i have succeeded to simply forget
the colors of the poems i have written last night
screaming red turning to patient blue
and then silent green
and then that feeling of having control
with the purples feeling noble
and the orange still
promising to live for another day
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poems Went Away
THE POEMS WENT AWAY
The poems went away.
Nothing inside.
An empty will for poetry
Forcing words on the page,
Words without music
Without resonance
Without great implication
Meaning.
Write, write, write
Lest you die.
And the words themselves
A kind of desperate uphill catching of breath
On the page.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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