I Should Go Out Into The Sun
I should go out into the sun
And walk in the direction of wherever I need to go
No matter how far-
And on the way find some other form of transportation
That will take me there.
Instead however I sit here and write my inane lines
As if whatever happened to me however small
Was worth thinking about by another-
A poem should not be trivial
But mine often are-
How much more patience will I myself have
Before I go in another direction?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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
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I Walk And Lines Come To Me
I WALK AND LINES COME TO ME
I walk and lines come to me-
Then I stop somewhere
And wait for more lines
To complete them-
Then when I am at home
I rewrite them-
Then I listen to them inside me
Again and again,
And when I hear that they are not right
I try to find what is missing for them,
Write and write again
Until reading it to myself
It sounds as it should be.
And when I am done
I am quiet inside,
As if all the Hope in the world
could be reborn
through a poem.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This is a poem....
This isn't a poem of one direction,
This is a poem about perfection.
This isn't a poem about who won the election,
This is a poem about correction.
This isn't a poem of getting it right,
This is a poem of standing up to fight.
This isn't a poem of being lost like a kite,
This is a poem about trying to find the light.
This isn't a poem of running tears,
This is a poem about chasing your fears.
This isn't a poem of love and hate,
This is a poem of destiny and fate.
This isn't a poem of the end,
This is a poem of a heart unable to mend.
This isn't a poem of cruilty and pain,
This is a poem of a thng i need to gain.
This isn't a poem of shame,
This is a poem of fame.
Thsi isn't a poem of the life i let loose,
THIS IS A POEM OF THE TRUTH.
poem by Tammie LilAimo
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Direction and Purpose
A river flows in one direction,
on down to find the sea.
As humans we to see a direction,
and ask our God to lead the way.
Everything needs a direction,
or purpose in being be.
Without a purpose or direction,
we are like the winds of the desert,
lost and forever wandering.
If we have nothing to justify
the existence of our soul,
we will drift on aimlessly,
through the eons of time,
until the poets run out of rhyme.
(29 May 2007)
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Walk Without A Poem
WALK WITHOUT A POEM
I walk without a poem-
It is a time without poems-
I am tired -
The world is beating me down-
The older I ache
The more I grow cold-
I write these lines in the deep heat of summer
They are incidental and small
A poem perhaps-
But they cannot lift my soul
I do not know how now -
poem by Shalom Freedman
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All I Can Do Now Is Write Another Poem
All I can do now is write another poem-
The poems are small,
And do not require the long hours and long years
Of the books-
Like the world as a whole
I seem to have a shorter attention span
And less patience-
A poem can be written and given a name
In minutes not years-
Though some would say a great poem
Takes the travail of years of waiting
And years of work-
But I did not say
‘All I can do now is write another great poem'
Perhaps I have in all the years of the nights never written one-
I can write the poems I write
My kinds of poems
In a fairly short time-
All I can do now
Is write another of my kind of poems-
Whether they be worth anything,
Or not.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Have Been Many Opening Lines Tonight
THERE HAVE BEEN MANY OPENING LINES TONIGHT
There have been many opening lines tonight
But none has been followed by a convincing poem -
Why is this evening one of trying and failing?
Why can't I at least write one small poem
That seems to me worthwhile?
I am doing better now-
There is a stanza,
And perhaps these lines will be a stanza too.
I have two small awkward stanzas
When I finish this one
I will try to feel I have a poem.
Nothing I do tonight is good enough
Is it better to have a poor poem
Or none at all?
I answer by posting these lines.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Walk And Wait For A Poem
I WALK AND WAIT FOR A POEM
I walk and wait for a poem
What else do I have but a poem?
The schoolchildren by the side of the road
Are helped by their father into the car.
Yeats had ‘schoolchildren’ in his poem-
But I am not Yeats.
I stop and write these lines down
A poem is not enough
A small poor poem
Is not enough.
But what else do I have but a small poor poem
And the memory of my children
The children I love so much-
When they were schoolchildren
So long long ago?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Patience To Perfect The Poem
THE PATIENCE TO PERFECT THE POEM
The patience to perfect the poem-
Escaped me.
Driven always to
More and more,
Unrestrained and unrefined
I left behind
Too many
Shoddy lines.
Now in my old age
I write again one more poem
I soon will go on from.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Are Those Who Wait Years To Write A Poem
THERE ARE THOSE WHO WAIT YEARS TO WRITE A POEM
There are those who wait years to write a poem
The fruit slowly ripens inside and then as with Rilke
It suddenly falls -
There are those who write a few lines
And come back time after time
And find the poem after many efforts-
There are those who cannot wait to write a poem
And once conscious of it must write it down as fast as possible
Before it is lost-
And there are those who only in the present writing
Find the poem -
The page suffers many methods and modes
But what truly makes a poem worthy
Is another question.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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No Poem In Me/Everything Irritates and Angers
NO POEM IN ME
No poem in me-
Everything irritates and angers
Even the beauty of the morning light-
Says nothing to me.
Walk, walk, walk,
Try to get the Impatience out.
Write a few lines,
To come back to a better Self.
Try.
Despite these lines
I am not there yet.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Is A Poem/ Made of All There Never Was
THERE IS A POEM / MADE OF ALL THERE NEVER WAS
There is a poem
Made of all there never was
I cannot write this poem
There is a poem made
Of all that has been
I can never come close to this
There is a poem which is mine alone
This is my only poem
There is a small small poem
Mine alone
That cannot tell what has not been or what will be
For anyone
Except perhaps
To some degree- myself.
I cannot write anything anymore
And this is no poem either.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Headed In The Right Direction
Chorus
Headed in the right direction
I can see the light of day
Ive got love as my connection
Theres an angel showing me the way
Been reaching for love all my life
I couldnt find it always one step behind it
Now I know it was mine all the time finally I am
Chorus
Headed in the right direction
I can see the light of day
Ive got love as my protection
Theres no need for me to be afraid
I spend so much time with my head in the clouds
Now that Ive got my feet on the ground
I found that I am
Chorus
Headed in the right direction
I can see the light of day
Ive got faith and intuition telling me that I will be okay
Down the path that I walked there was eyes
Somebody told me that I look like Im glowing
They just dried all the tears from my eyes now I can see that
Chorus
Headed in the right direction
I can see the light of day
Now Ive found my pearl of wisdom
Theres no need for me to be afraid
Headed in the right direction
Theres an angel showing me the way
I have found my inspiration
Headed in the right direction
song performed by by India Arie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Direction Home
Crawl upon the earth, scour the universe you know
Set my compass north, circumscribe the earth and go - no direction home
Whats my part in this, whats this dream I cant let go
Whats your weight of this, what d'ya want to see and who d'ya want to know
You've no direction home, no direction home, no direction
Feels like all is lost, there's nowhere left to go
Through the seasoned sands, cross the sky to the morning snow
Is there no direction home, nowhere left to go, no direction home
song performed by by I Am Kloot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Simple Small Poem
THIS SIMPLE POEM (Four variants)
This simple poem
filters
through its small lines
The small light I have now
All I can write.
2)
This simple small poem
Filters through its small lines
The small life I have now
My only light.
3)
This simple small poem
Condenses
In its small lines
My life and my light
My fading in time.
4)
This simple small poem
Reflects in its small lines
The light of my life
Fading in time.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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No matter how far you have walked in the wrong direction certainly you have to turn back and take the right direction.
A Highway To Nowhere
There are coloured wavy lines
in that space I call my mind.
They look like swimming snakes
searching for something to find.
They are going in one direction,
fluorescent and shining bright,
but like goldfish in a bowl
no destination is in sight.
Perhaps they are an indication,
of what is yet to come.
A direction of which to take
in a darkness without sun.
An escape from the gloom,
from the bleak, and despair,
or maybe it’s simply showing
life’s a highway to nowhere.
poem by Orlando Belo
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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
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All Day Long/I Have Been Walking And Thinking
ALL DAY LONG / I HAVE BEEN WALKING AND THINKING
All day long
I have been walking and thinking
Trying to write a poem.
And the lines are not lines
And the poem is not a poem
And the poet is not a poet.
And as the Jerusalem winter wind
Quickens my soul
And the sun flashes at me
The beauty of this world,
I know I have wasted my life
On what was beyond me.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Write Erase Write Erase
this is what happens to this poem
when you have nothing to write
tonight....write, erase, write, erase
you are waiting
for an inspiration that does not come
you keep on waiting and then something comes
you write it, you think about it, you read it and you find nothing
worth the letter you assign to it
then you erase it and you are honest enough to admit that there is nothing
beautiful
not even a purpose, and then you write the word again, you ponder, there is
nothing worth its existence
there is nothing to grow in that word chosen
you erase it again, you write it and then there is this space of thinking,
what is it? you ask. what is it really?
it is this denial.
this negation of
what you are
that keeps you writing.
you stand by the window. Look out
the road. You see a dog, and it is howling again
to the moon
and to the wrong tree
it is barking.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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