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I Walked Down The Hill

I WALKED DOWN THE HILL

I walked down the hill
With the lines of others in mind
Old lines returned imperfectly
A Poem should be remembered
Word by word
As if each syllable a treasure.

All around the bustle of the world
Suggested Beauty
And I stopping to write
Felt in my mind
Perhaps for the first time
That I should love God forever.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Walked With The Lines Of Others In My Mind

I WALKED WITH THE LINES OF OTHERS IN MY MIND

I walked with the lines of others in my mind
Greater lines by far than my own -
But they were the lines of others
Hearing them I could not hear myself -

I walked and let my own voice tell itself
It knew it was a lesser thing
But it was my voice
And hearing it
I know I am alive.

There are a few great poets
But there are many small poets too.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Write A Few Lines

IF I WRITE A FEW LINES

If I write a few lines
My mind will open
My heart will take heart
I will begin to believe in myself again.
If I write a few lines
I will say that I still somewhere am alive,

Writing these lines
In such deep deep sadness and trouble,
I try
And word by word
Squeeze out a bit of Hope.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem As Conversations

a poem for ramona
and a poem for jean and a poem for candice
and a poem too for yuri
and a poem too for emma and another poem for hannah
and another poem for allan
and the rest of the clan
they are but
conversations sticking to my mind
and through these poems
i replay them
and you think these are not poems at all

precisely, these are conversations of the living
the living word
the word that still cohabits with us
we let them out from our mouths
but you do not wish to recover them

did you mean them all to be said
with the terms and conditions of truth?
i am recording them
and i am replaying them through these lines
i look where truth
lies
i find some and keep them
and these are these
on these lines

a poem for you a poem for the world that we all make
what we say is what we get

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Word Lines

I write
my pain
and its
just another poem
its just
the same
all the heart ache that goes onto this page
only takes me back to the place where I await
behind the curtains of an empty stage
the pain
I write
I wrote this
I locked my own cage
I threw away the key to he that did see me rage
and still
I write
yes still
I fight
hoping that I might find something you feel
because these two word lines are just rhymes
when I say them back they aren't real
I'm sick and tired of talking about better times
forcing things like a relationship two people don't really want
a mum and dad staying together for the sake of the kids when the love is really gone.
Look at this back and see my two word lines
see my two word lines
are one.

poem by Daniel McCann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Lost The Poem I Wrote In My Mind

I LOST THE POEM I WROTE IN MIND

I lost the poem I wrote in my mind
When walking to Shul this morning-
I can only try to recall its thoughts;
‘Walk too fast and the mind cannot hear itself
Walk slowly and listen to the poem inside yourself.
The road ahead the trees the sky
Has a beauty too great for you to write
Thank God for your sight.”

The best lines are forever gone-
A poem to replace a poem
Is not as good as the original-
I wish I had the words for all the beauty God gives me in my life
How wonderful it is to be alive- sometimes
And to be able to write poems – even if somewhat poorly.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Interactive

I write some lines and you read each word
A word excites you and you take it up to
Seed your fields where you grow your own
Shrubbery of words with tendrils climbing
I look at your garden of words and there is
This word growing into a flower attracting
Me I pick it up this sensual flower and I
Seed it in the lines of my mind now another
Bunch of words like ripe grapes I take one
Swallow it and savor the taste of its sweetness
More lines of words in my throat sliding
Through the lining of my esophagus so smooth
Going straight inside the veins leading to my heart
Sweet, so sweet I could have written the usual
Lines of “ I love you, I miss you” but I couldn’t
There is this roadblock, this writer’s block
The lines stopped, the words are stunted
I stutter, I retreat to my eyes, to see
The face of this woman I love, her eyes
Are gentle, she smiles at me, and waits
For this beautiful silence that gives her life
You stand there, looking for a hint, another
Word to seed the lines waiting to be written.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Walked And Walked

I walked and walked
And thought,
‘Maybe I'll find a poem in walking'
I walked and walked and walked-

No Poem.

But then I thought,
‘Maybe the walk is the poem'
All around me worlds of things
Green and bright,
A good day after all-

Maybe the walk is the poem

And the writing it down,
The stopping to listen.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Has Remembered Me

Written by: myles goodwyn
Love wont remember me
Its been so long
And thats what Ive told myself
But you proved me wrong
You opened up my eyes
And helped me to see
That love has a way of finding
Those in need
Love has remembered me (love has remembered)
It seems too long since weve been together
Love has remembered me (love has remembered)
Its been so long, seemingly forever
Love has remembered, love has remembered me
I felt so all alone
And at times afraid
That love had foresaken me
It just seemed that way
Then you walked into my life
And you turned my whole world around
Ours is a true love
It cant be found
Love has remembered me (love has remembered)
It seems too long since weve been together
Love has remembered me (love has remembered)
Its been so long, seemingly forever
Love has remembered, love has remembered me
Love wont remember me
Its been so long
And thats what Ive told myself
But you proved me wrong
Love has remembered me (love has remembered)
It seems too long since weve been together
Love has remembered me (love has remembered)
Its been so long, seemingly forever
Love has remembered me (love has remembered)
It seems too long since weve been together
Love has remembered me (love has remembered)
Its been so long, seemingly forever
Love has remembered
Love has remembered
Love has remembered
(love has remembered)

song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Ageing Poem

A simple poem I wanted to write
The words were so clear in my mind
But my fingers were numb and sore
Lift a pencil they can't at all
Before a few lines write I could
With my signpen wrestle I should

I tried to read my scribbles
And asked my self how did I fare
The words I saw were all in blur
And were in badly crooked lines
I have but lost my metering
And all my lines did hardly rhyme

My next poems shall not be written
And in my thought will just remain
Be unrecited as they may
Till in my mind they fade away

poem by Pacific Hernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Word That Wouldn’t Fit (Fun Poem 25)

A writer’s life is full of woe,
you find a word you like,
then you write something,
and try to fit that word in,
but when you look again.
That word you thought of
it just won’t fit in,
no matter how hard you try it,
that word just will not go.
In a fit of frustration,
you stick it here and there.
Just like jigsaw puzzle
where the pieces will not fit,
so this word will not go anywhere.
In the end you say, “OH heck! ”
Then you put the word
to the back of your mind.
Maybe another day
in another poem,
that word just might fit.
Having said all that,
I’m not betting on it.

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem of the Ageing

A simple poem I wanted to write
The words were so clear in my mind
But my fingers were numb and sore
Lift a pencil they can't at all
Before a few lines write I could
With my signpen wrestle I should

I tried to read what I've written
And asked my self how did I fare
The words I saw were all in blur
And were in badly crooked lines
I have but lost my metering
And all my lines did hardly rhyme

My next poems shall not be written
And in my thought will just remain
Be unrecited as they may
Till in my mind they fade away

poem by Pacific Hernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem I Wrote In My Mind This Morning Walking Home

The poem I wrote in my mind this morning walking home
Is gone-

I will try to recall it -

It was not finished,
A few lines around an idea-

What was the idea?
I don't remember-

Slowly slowly in old age
The mind works less well

First it is trouble with names
Other peoples names-
And then what?

I recently cared for a man
Who often did not know his own name
And could not speak one sentence clearly-

The poem I lost this morning was not about ‘remembrance'
And its loss -

But on the way home I was happy when I suddenly remembered a name
I was looking for-

‘Perhaps it will not happen to me' I said
Or perhaps it will happen so far from now
I do not need to think about it'

One day all the poems will not be remembered
And these lines too will go to oblivion-

My poem this morning was not even writ in water-

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time Lines

i have said nothing for time wont allow me.
time lines... time lines... time lines, what i felt for you has turned to confusion.
as time lines up our times together worry overshadows my 'influenced' judgement.
time lines..

our future perfectly sealed for i filled my heart with your promises.
time outlined your feelings for me..
times we spent together seem so far away like the times of the early bud.

our love has lost its will to florish like juliets rose.
time has outlined my affection for you.
time lines.. time lines..

the memories we once cherished together, the lines that have been put between us by time have destroyed the love once shared by you and me.
time has been thought to mend broken hearts ALAS, it has made matters worse.
time lines me and you. time lined our fate through spectatr critiques.
we possess souls joint together by time, YET its time that divides us.
time took its tole on our love.

is this forbidden love? that time has outlined

time lines my emotions of love for you..

time lines my emtions.
time lines.... time lines

poem by Njube Nangamso
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem Life

what is...

a poem...?

some word

speaking...

some word

crying...

some word

trying...

some word

hitting...

some word

danching...

some word

loving...

some word

colling...

some word

lifing...

some word

loughing...

all the words

are poem...

feel free

your heart free..

love free

to write+ speak...

with freee...

making a poem

life your style...

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And then the paper is dirty

You start with a clean sheet of paper
Write some words, scribble, draw some lines
Some curves, sharp lines, tangent to bold
Lines, and rough sketches of faces and
Bodies, thin lines that get crooked from
End to end of this limited space,
You doodle, you get wild with so
Many lines unimaginable, senseless,
The paper finally looks dirty,
And you do not like it, you crumple
It and throw it in a waste basket,

You get another clean sheet,
And this time, you think what is
It really that you want to make
Out of this new clean sheet of paper.

You think, you ponder, and you need
More time this time not to waste
This clean, glossy sheet of paper.

I think you are doing well with your life.
You see you are supposed to be careful

Every word is delicate and every paper
Is actually accounted.

Never mind guilt, set it aside for a while.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Twenty Two Days

(pitney)
Oh its been 22 lonely blue days without a word from you
And 44 million more tears Ive cried since you walked through that door
The sun never reaches my doorstep each empty day seems to be the same
Youve broken your vow but I still love you now, oh this love of mine is a one way losing game
And its been 22 lonely blue days without a word from you
And 44 million more tears Ive cried since you walked through that door
The dreams that we share are gone forever but I still have a little hope in my heart
Is this the way it ends? are we to be both friends? oh I cant go on if were to be apart
And its been 22 lonely blue dayswithout a word from you
And 44 million more tears Ive cried since you walked through that door
Yeah 22 days since you walked through that door
Ah 22 days since you walked through that door
Yeah 22 days since you walked through that door
Mmmm 22 days since you walked through that door

song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All The Poems Remain Written Where They Once Never Were

ALL THE POEMS REMAIN WRITTEN WHERE THEY ONCE NEVER WERE

All the poems remain written where they once never were
The grass and the skies of Whitman form lines in the mind of Baudelaire
The trees and dark cities of the distance form single sounds in the heart of the poet who cares
Night is more than darkness and day more than an early setting out
Each thing influences the other and calls back its own origins and end
We are going somewhere we will never know whether we write eternal lines or not
Over everywhere can be heard in the morning light the selfsame sound that through the heart of Ruth burned the alien corn
Keats is not dead, and Borges is not dead and Kafka is not dead and Wordsworth and all those who wrote great lines are not dead
Poetry is the last first eternity of the living word
And those who can hear the sounds of others greater than themselves in their own lines know
We are all writing down this last poem for ourselves and no one else
Though as we go to pray each morning the minyan tells us secretly
All our prayers together are more than any single poem can be alone
In the grey long distance where no one hears any poem at all
God writes and rewrites for us all the book of the stars in which dread is no longer a name
And beauty bright bright beauty is heard and reechoed as more than we will ever be
God is the only Poetry in the End
God is the Only One who never will be dead..

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's Late To Write A Poem

It’s late to write a poem-
It’s almost time to go-
And yet now as I was about to leave
The spirit of poetry came to me
And I feel in me lines that want to be written-

So as I quietly calmly surely write these lines down now
I know
The world can wait a long time for a real poem-
But when it comes
Oh how the sky opens up and the dreams go on happily on their journey.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Have I Lost The 'Visionary Gleam?

HAVE I LOST ‘THE VISIONARY GLEAM?

Have I lost the ‘visionary gleam’?
Did I ever have it?
Is Death ‘luckier than we’ think
Or ‘lucky’ at all?
How supreme can a fiction be?
And whoever really has drunk ‘the milk’ of paradise?
Why should a rose be sick or dead?
And why should ‘patience to prevent that murmur reply’?
Who said ‘The glory of God is davka in dappled things?
And what kind of fool compares what he builds to what ‘birds build’?

Can a skeptic be a poet in a real way?
Can poetry be read by those who doubt the truth of its lines?
Wasn’t he who said beauty is truth and truth beauty dying and lying at the same time?
What does it mean to steal a line of someone else‘s great beauty
And turn it into one’s own petty gripe?

Poetry is better served by the real thing,
Than by pastiches and parodies
And skeptical borrowers
And fake rivals in anxiety of influence-

One can take from the vast book of the living dead
The most treasured lines
And betray them into irony and silliness-

Yet those lines out-top the little later commentators
And make me wonder why I exercise my mind
In vain exercises like this
Instead of trying to write the true poetry-

‘Life is real life is earnest and the grave is not the goal’
Here he lies where he longed to be, home is the sailor home from the sea and the hunter from the hill’
Master of my fate, captain of my soul?

Do not take the lines literally
Read them with love and understanding
When they say something meaningful and beautiful to you
Hold on to them.

A poem is a poem for a that
Even for the wee slick cowrin beasties.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wish My Mind

I WISH MY MIND

I wish my mind,
Could spend all its time,
In the world of Poetry.

So much outside and inside,
Frightens me.

Lines of beauty and kindness,
Quiet and calm-
Lines which make life seem as if
It really can be a higher art.

All this from a soul
That needs to escape,
And cannot.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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