I Stop And Wait/For A Poem
I Stop And Wait/ For A Poem
I stop and wait
For a poem.
The poem does not come
The city says ‘Morning beauty’
The silence is a sadness unsayable -
Light is lovely
Isn’t it?
Irony Irony Irony-
I write these lines
As if I actually believe
I am writing poetry
And doing something.
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Poem
THIS POEM
This poem
This first poem
This last poem
This poem that invented Poetry
This one and only one poem
This fictional poem
This ideal poem
This perfect poem
This would – be holy poem
This unreal poem
This poem which is not a poem
This poem which is the essence of all poetry
This poem
And that poem
And my poem
And your poem
And all poems
Poem poem poem poem poem
This poem
Mine and yours
This one small poem of so so many
And not such a good poem at all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is A Poem Without Irony or Ambiguity
THIS IS A POEM WITHOUT IRONY AND AMBIGUITY
This is a poem without irony and ambiguity -
Without any clever contradictions
Or wise paradoxes-
A simple straightforward expression of my gratitude to G-d
For the blessing of a grandchild born-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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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A Not a Poem Poem
A Not a Poem Poem
I will not write a poem
For I am not a poet
I cannot makes things rhyme
I’ve tried for quite some time
So will I write a poem?
NO!
I can’t write poetry
I’ve tried to all my life
Once, I tried to write a poem
About a husband and his wife
It sounded really silly
So I crumbled it up into a ball
That’s why I decided
That I couldn’t write poetry at all
Am I gonna write a poem?
NO!
Well, I’ll try to write a poem
But it will be really bad
It will be absolutely lousy
It will be completely horrible
It won’t be up to snuff
People will say, “Who wrote this stuff? ”
Will my poem be good?
NO!
Can I write a poem?
NO!
Will I write a poem?
NO!
Well, what do you know! ? !
I wrote a poem!
And it’s a pretty good poem, too!
I guess I can write poetry if I try
The next time I’m asked to write a poem,
Will I say no?
NO!
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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Wait For The Poem
WAIT FOR THE POEM
Wait for the poem-
Wait-
Let the Breeze go through you
The heat of these past days has been long.
Wait
Let your mind
Begin to move
With the wind.
Lines
More lines
A poem?
Writing now
The breeze.
Thank God
For the Breeze
For the Poem
For Now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Strive Against The Silence Of The Night
I STRIVE AGAINST THE SILENCE OF THE NIGHT
I strive against the silence of the night
Against my own inner emptiness
I wait to hear some song from inside myself -
Nothing is written.
I go back to where I am
And begin again.
There is always a poem if one is patient enough.
But what poem?
And for what special meaning of this night?
I write again and again
A poem which is about writing a poem
And when I come to end it
I question again and again
Whether it is real.
This night is already deep in darkness
And yet I have almost broken its silence
One more line
One more writing about writing a poem -
Perhaps Memory will come back to me
And I will write a more real poem
Than this strained effort now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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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The Only Poem Is The Poem/ At The Moment Of Its Writing
THE ONLY POEM IS THE POEM
The only poem is the poem
At the moment of its writing
The poem being lived now
The poem I am trying to make
The poem of these lines.
The only poem now is this one-
And this poem is so small and so self- reflexive
That it is not much of a poem at all.
The only poem is not much of a poem at all
This one
And me now? .
But what about everything else I have not done?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
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The poem is reading in my head
Silence, except for the poem
The poem is reading in my head
I can make it stop, for a while
Then it starts again
I can jump onto the words
And for a time I ride the line
Then dropping off I stand and watch
as the poem goes rolling by
The poem has broken colours
Bits of sound and not much shape
And suddenly I am in tears
I have to look away and wait
Finally there is silence
Full fat voluptuous silence
Except, except for the poem
poem by Sean Joyce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Full fat voluptuous silence
Silence
Except for the poem
The poem is reading in my head
I can make it stop, for a while
Then it starts again
I can jump onto the words
And for a time I ride the line
Then dropping off I stand and watch
as the poem goes rolling by
The poem has broken colours
Bits of sound and not much shape
And suddenly I am in tears
I have to look away and wait
Finally there is silence
Full fat voluptuous silence
Except
Except for the poem
poem by Sean Joyce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Scribbler's Stymie
Pen and paper in sight
I've got no poem to write
Staying up all night
I've got no poem to write
Although my mind is bright
I've got no poem to write
It's windy out tonight, should I go fly a kite?
I've got no poem to write
My ceiling, it is white
I've got no poem to write
It's 4: 59! Five, but not quite
I've got no poem to write
In your arms I'd feel so light
I've got no poem to write
I've had no sleep tonight
I've got no poem to write
Will you just hold me tight?
I've got no poem to write
Outside it's almost light
I've got no poem to write
It's late, off goes my light
I've got no poem to write
poem by Julia Grace
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Real art is without irony. Irony distances the author from his material. Irony is a product of something. It's not the reason for doing something. Irony is a cheap shot.
quote by Robert Altman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem After Poem After Poem
POEM AFTER POEM AFTER POEM
POEM AFTER POEM AFTER POEM
Poem after poem after poem
But a poem is not the way out.
Money is depleting
Soon I’ll be without.
How will I manage to live then
What will become of us all?
To write a poem is to do nothing
When the writing is on the wall.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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How to write a Poem?
Must I know what I write down
Meaningless or meaning found
Making poem, don’t know how
Must I know what I write down
Does a poem need to breathe
To plan a knit into a weave
Or can it start not to conceive
A poemed haze is free to breathe
Writing breath from writing down
The poem tilts as I think now
Bias nature changing how
The poem writes, still writing down
No thought, no poem, here with me
Should I stop or let it be
Bleeding brain, becoming free
Rereading, learning, me for me
poem by Paul Moosberg
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If There Is No Poem
IF THERE IS NO POEM/ WHY TRY TO WRITE ONE?
If there is no poem,
Why try to write one?
Why try to force Meaning
Out of nothing?
Why try to pretend to be doing
When one cannot?
Why try to write
When one is not writing?
Why try to be
What one is not?
If there is no poem
Learn to wait
Perhaps it will come-
And if it does not
Live in a universe
Of your own poemlessness
Most people do after all -
Just live
Poemless
In your own inner Silence, Loss, and Longing.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Need A Poem More Than A Poem Needs Me
I NEED A POEM MORE THAN A POEM NEEDS ME
I need a poem more than a poem needs me.
I need a poem because I have no poem within me
I am lost
Dead inside
Needing a poem
Needing anything
These lines trying to be a poem
Tell me I can restore myself to being human
By writing a poem.
I do not know if it is much of a poem
But I am somewhat better now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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