I Lost The Calm Of My Poem and The Peace Of My Soul
I lost the calm of my poem and the peace of my soul
When I heard murderers would go free
And those who had deliberately killed women and children
Would torment yet again their victims’ families-
I lost the calm and the peace of my soul
When I learned that we had forsaken our principles of Justice
And given in to blackmail to ransom a single life -
I lost the calm of my poem and the peace of my soul
When I understand one can be too kind and too compassionate
And that those ‘kind to the cruel’ end up being ‘cruel to the kind’
I lost the calm of my poem and the peace of my soul
When I understood we as a people had ceased to be wise and courageous-
And given in to our own excessive sense of compassion and to the cruelty of the cruel.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
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There Is A Kind Of Peace /In Writing A Poem
There is a kind of peace
In writing a poem
A kind of gentleness:
Words come slowly and surely
And happiness is within them.
All around so quiet so calm
So at ease;
There is a gentleness in writing a quiet poem,
And great peace in writing a small happy one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Could Be A Poem?
This poem could be
The greatest thing you've ever heard
Like a verbal bird
Free to fly around the confines of your mind
Or maybe like a kite, flying freely caressed by the wind
There for you to repeat it again and again
This poem could be manipulated, congratulated, or disintegrated
It could even get frustrated if you fail to catch it's meaning
Demeaning one of the reasons it was written
To be heard, not deferred, or unnerved
It was made to inspire
Requiring the constant retire
That is your head
This poem could be life or death
The poem could convince you to put yourself
At risk to knowledge or to bullets
There is no chaos; There is harmony
There is no emotion; there is peace
OR
Through passion, I gain strength
Through strength, I gain power
Through power, I gain Victory...
Victory...
Victory...
This poem could be
This poem could be like victory
Great for the moment
Then lost in time
Lost in echoes
Lost in rhyme
Lost in justice
Lost in crime
Just lost
Then found!
Bound to the world by the person who hears it
This poem could be
Garbage
If you can't see the moral at the end of the story
No worries though
'Cause no deposit, no return
This poem could be
Over
But it's not
It lives for as long as you choose to
Hear it, Take it, Live it
This poem could be...
This poem could be..
My lord, WHAT this poem could be!
This poem could start a revolution, but it could end one too
This poem can and will make things happen
Bound and Determined
Or maybe
This poem could be
Just a poem?
poem by Dre' Porcher
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The Poem I Wrote When Happiness Returned To Me
The poem I wrote when Happiness returned to me
Was a quiet sober poem
One which knew what Pain and Despair are
And so in peace and calm
Could let Joy be small and uncertain.
The poem I wrote when Happiness returned to me
Knew that Happiness could come and go in a moment
And so did not take off from itself
But rested and waited as a sombre kind of peace.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Lost poem...Lost love..
Lost poem...
Lost words...
Lost feeling..
Lost love...
Nay, these are not lost, it is a deception
Nay, these are not lost, a false perception
Lost poem...
Lost words...
Lost feeling..
Lost love...
Nay, these are not lost, they exist deep in my soul,
Ultimate forgiveness, a high ideal, and yet a worthy goal.
Lost poem...
Lost words...
Lost feeling..
Lost love...
poem by Chad Fisher
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If There Is No Peace In Me
IF THERE IS NO PEACE IN ME
If there is no peace in me
If there is no calm
How dare I try
To write a poem?
Still by stopping and standing here now
The gentle breeze
The quiet greens and yellows of this park
Bring uneasy calm back to me.
And I write a few lines
By which I try
To justify
My problematic existence.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Can A Poem Bring Me Peace?
Can a poem bring me peace?
Can it silence for a short time
The deep doubt and uncertainties
That trouble my existence?
Can it take me away to its own calm mood,
And leave me singing inside happily?
Can a small poem bring me peace now
And let me rest
From the endless turmoil of my own agonizing mind?
Can I simply lie down in its words and sleep quietly with it?
Can a Poem bring me peace
Even if only for a small time now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Let This One Poem Be About Me
Let this one poem be just about me
Let this one poem engulf all my beauty
Let this one poem define my soul
Let this one poem consume me whole
My soul was earth bound
And my heart lay in a place that it would never be found
Let this poem be what entangles my mind
Let this poem be where people will find
They will find that missing link
And this poem it will make them think
They will wonder how this girl came
They will wonder how I avoided fame
I didn’t write these words to please
I wrote these words to tease
My heart it’s the type that beckons for ease
And my taste will not accept the flavor of peas
Let this poem describe me in most simplest of ways
Let this poem show how I get through these days
And I know people will read this and say…
This girl she knew where heart lay…
Let this poem eat me whole
Let me entire heart bleed its luscious love into a broken bowl
My soul wanted only to be free
And this poem only pushed it back into me
I never will lose any part of my soul
Because then this world will swallow my inner being whole
Let this poem be what I hate
Let this poem describe with who I would mate
Let this thoughts become my ways
Let this poem be where I stray
Let this poem show how I lie
Let this poem describe how I will die
Yes I am human I cannot avoid death
Yes I am human I chose not to use meth
These words they dance upon this page
These words they have no age
These verses have lost all meaning
Because I revealed my demeaning
Let this poem describe what I deem right
Let this poem that I will always fight
My age floats through these words
And people will never understand why I want to be heard
Let this poem be only about me
Let this poem be what sets me free
And I know some day people will look at this and say…
This girl, this girl she knew exactly where her heart lay…
poem by Victoria Martinez
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Lost To Find My Lot
Lost in a world, that scares me to death,
Lost in a crowd I’m losing my breath,
Lost as a kid, lost as an adult
I feel everything is falling apart and its my fault
Lost as a person, cant find my way
Lost in life every day, Lost in worry
Who am I?
I’ve lived a Lie
Lost to Kindness,
Lost to Love
Lost in the sky,
Like a lonely dove
Lost in thought which I shouldn’t do
It Winds me up,
I can’t get through
Lost to comfort all kind words
Lost to advice that isn’t heard
Lost to those who really care?
All these people always there
Lost in Me, I need a break
Lost in wonder which road should I take?
Lost in a place I don’t know well
Where are you now? There’s no one to tell
Lost here all alone To break these walls
Lost in mind
Lost in soul
Lost memories, there just a hole
Lost family, lost my place
Still yet I’m full of hate
Lost in boredom think I’ll leave
There’s a lot in life I need to achieve
poem by Olivia Braun
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This House Is Not For Sale
Tell 'em that the house is not for sale
We're still livin' here, how come nobody can tell
They're takin' all the furniture, movin' our things
Come on little honey, put your head on my knee
Tell 'em that the house is not for sale
And calm down, calm down, calm down
Calm down, calm down, calm down
Do you remember when we even bought this thing?
I danced you across the wooden floor and you signed the lease
What happened in the car that night?
What happened in the car that night?
Tell 'em that the house is not for sale
And calm down, calm down, calm down
Calm down, calm down, calm down
Calm down
Tell 'em that the house is not for sale
We could grab a couple sheets, yeah, give 'em quite a scare
I remember lyin' on the bedroom floor
You were holding me, little honey, kissin' my soul
Tell 'em that the house is not for sale
And calm down, calm down, calm down
Calm down, calm down, calm down
Calm down
Calm down
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 11. Calm is the morn without a sound
Calm is the morn without a sound,
Calm as to suit a calmer grief,
And only thro' the faded leaf
The chestnut pattering to the ground:
Calm and deep peace on this high wold,
And on these dews that drench the furze.
And all the silvery gossamers
That twinkle into green and gold:
Calm and still light on yon great plain
That sweeps with all its autumn bowers,
And crowded farms and lessening towers,
To mingle with the bounding main:
Calm and deep peace in this wide air,
These leaves that redden to the fall;
And in my heart, if calm at all,
If any calm, a calm despair:
Calm on the seas, and silver sleep,
And waves that sway themselves in rest,
And dead calm in that noble breast
Which heaves but with the heaving deep.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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I Would Write A Quiet Poem
I WOULD WRITE A QUIET POEM
I would write a quiet poem.
There is so much noise in the world.
A poem to be read in silence
A poem to give comfort and rest
A poem of peace
Of mind and soul.
A quiet poem
Against all the furies and pains of this world
A poem of peace
Restful as the most bliss-filled sleep.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Calm In The Pain
I AM CALM IN THE PAIN
I am calm in the pain,
And calm in the rejection,
And calm through the insult,
And calm through the anger,
And calm calm calm,
Though I feel so deeply
How I have failed
I am calm
Very calm
So calm
Until suddenly
In the middle of the morning prayer
I begin to cry to God
Cry with a terrible crying
And then when the prayer done
Calm calm calm calm calm.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I love the word 'calm
I love the word ‘calm’
‘The sea lies calm tonight’
‘Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
‘And calm of mind, all passion spent’
I love the word ‘calm’
And the feeling of peace,
And the joy in quiet,
And the sense of all things well,
It gives.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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How the poem is treated by you
My instruction is very simple
Take the poem and read it
Casually in your room, do not
Force yourself to understand it
Just read it and tell me what
You feel,
Be kind to the poem
Like inviting it for tea
With just the two of you
As you sip
Let the poem drift like
A cloud and let it take
Its shape
Be compassionate to the poem
Let is cry for itself
If it settles for tears
And all you can do is
Just wipe its face
With your handkerchief
But you are cruel and so
Indifferent, you slap the
Poem with your right hand
And tell it straight
That you do not like it
That way it has successfully
Puzzled you
Then you leave the poem in
The rest room
It feels that it is a tissue
Paper fit for something
So ordinary waiting for
What others usually do
Wipe their anus after
A poo.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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
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My other Talent –Poesy
God is to me very kind;
To His tenets, I always bind;
My Poetry is but His gift!
My soul from Him can’t shift
Yet, peace of mind gets disturbed oft,
In search of worldly pleasures loft;
In vain, I seek them, time is lost;
And soul remains sin-cast.
My foes and woes trouble me much;
Sometimes, I feel I am a wretch!
And when I search my mind again,
God helps me solace regain.
My Poesy has made me fit;
My body, mind, soul bit by bit;
I talk with God who guides me right;
He tells me what’s wrong, correct.
With time, my soul regains due course;
My Poetry, my sin absolves;
Immersed in it, I find great peace,
Of mind and I am at ease.
Thoughts divine in me prevail;
My ship of Poesy sets sail;
It is an unchartered voyage;
That’s safe with God’s message.
God is my beacon and compass!
Invisible Captain of my ship;
I am the driver, novice,
‘Tis my maiden voyage.
My heart is full of confidence;
Impermanent’s my residence;
The weather lovely, calm for now;
My ship is on the move somehow!
poem by John Celes
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Peaceful Prayers
Let there be peace in the world.
Let us all see peace and not war.
Let us all have peace in the world.
Let all our statesmen know no violence,
Let all love peace with warm vehemence,
Let all be clothed with passionate patience,
Let all respect peace with real reverence.
Let peace pervade every political terrain,
Let peace calm the spirits of every domain,
Let peace be at peace with every reign,
Let each achieve peace with poor pain.
Peace, to you we plead: come to us.
Peace, we entreat you: deign on us.
Peace, we want you: envelope us.
Let our homes be adorned with peace,
Let our streets be paved with peace,
Let our cities be set on a hilltop of peace.
Let peace taint our every thought.
Let there be peace, let peace never cease
Let there be peace, let war forever cease.
poem by Jude Ogunade
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A Lost Day
Lost is the day in which you have not found fulfillment in any area: work, private, or social.
Lost is the day in which you have not found a reason to smile: not about others, and not about yourself.
Lost is the day in which you have not been of any service: neither to others, nor to yourself.
Lost is the day in which you have not shared some love with another living creature.
Lost is the day in which you did not dedicate one positive thought to yourself.
Lost is the day in which your laziness prevented you to be constructive.
Lost is the day in which you allowed the setbacks and failures of the world to get the best of you.
Lost is the day in which you allowed your jealousy to conquer your compassion.
Lost is the day in which you undertook any act with a devious intention.
Lost is the day in which your mind prevailed your heart.
Lost is the day in which you allowed material gain to determine your decisions.
Lost is the day in which you sought out a prey among the vulnerable.
Lost is the day in which you discarded empathy.
Lost is the day in which you preferred ignorance, through discrimination of any kind, to embracement of equality.
Lost is the day in which you got lost in backbiting and any other kind of meanness directed toward another.
Lost is the day in which you failed to recognize the lesson in even the most dreadful experience.
Lost is the day in which you ignored the voice of your intuition.
Lost is the day in which you did not prioritize the ones you love over material gain.
Lost is the day in which you lowered yourself to hypocrisy.
Lost is the day in which you deliberately brought pain upon another living creature.
Lost is the day in which you allowed hope to get lost.
Lost is the day in which you forgot where you came from.
Lost is the day in which you forget where you're going.
Lost is the day in which you allowed an estrangement between your mind, your body, and your soul.
Lost is the day in which you were not creative.
Lost is the day in which you lost the connection with the source within...
poem by Joan Marques
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Dreams
Fading into cruel shapes, my dreams are clothes,
Anxious harm erupts in my mind to scatter echoes.
Dreams are a foray of inner dreams from life,
Then the surgeon arrives and departs, he causes the knife
To incise a man who is ill and depressed from harm,
The very same harm caused by a man of calm.
His calm propels our thoughts of him
In ways of the peace, the love of him.
This is cruelty of our dreams in life
With which we punish others in the nightlife.
poem by Naveed Akram
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