In Old Age The Poems Come More Easily
IN OLD AGE THE POEMS COME MORE EASILY THE POEMS COME MORE EASILY IN OLD AGE
In old age the poems come more easily-
What is there to lose now
By just being oneself?
‘Oneself' is going to be lost
Whatever one does.
What others say and think
Or do not say and think
Means a bit less.
An old tough codger
Stands his ground
And sings his song.
What does it matter
If only the wind listens?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Poems About.
There are poems that you will never see
Marked in a folder titled 'privacy'
Poems of hate and anger and personal pain
Poems about greed and hunger and personal gain
Poems about people I would love to see dead
Poems about women I met
Poems about relationships that have gone bad
Poems about issues with mom and dad
Poems about me, the person no one knows
Poems about places where only my soul goes
Poems I wish I could place in the clouds for all to read
Poems about lust, selfishness and greed
Poems I know will hurt those I hate
Poems I write by complete mistake
Poems I have hidden in my heart and my head
Poems about things that are better left unsaid
Poems I want to share and poems I want to retract
Poems of shame and how others might act
They stay in my psyche, they are a part of me
These poems I write, but you will never see.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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I Don't Want The Poems To End
I don’t want the poems to end
I don’t want to stop hearing my soul say
What it most deeply means-
I don’t want the poems to end
I want to go on and on with the poems
Day by day
As life at its best may go on
Just being and loving
And letting the poems come-
I don’t want the poems to end
And I don’t want to end now either.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Oh The Poems And More Poems
OH THE POEMS AND THE MORE POEMS
Oh the poems and the more poems
The wonderful poems I am writing all the time
God has given me this gift
And when I wait in the right way
And when I listen to myself properly
The poems come in ways I could never have thought of or imagined before
They come as mysteries as gifts as surprises
As wonderful to me as perhaps to you their possible readers
Oh the poems and the more poems
The wonderful poems God has given me
And the light of this day and so many other days, also.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Not Every Poem Knows How To Say Its Own Name Properly
NOT EVERY POEM KNOWS HOW TO SAY ITS OWN NAME PROPERLY
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly-
There are poems that have no name
And poems that are named by others who have not written them-
There are poems whose names make them what they are
And poems whose names contradict and belie them-
Many poems have their first lines as their names
And these poems often are as memorable as one line only-
Great poems and good poems can be nameless
Or can have unforgettable names.
Not every poem knows how to say its own name properly -
Poems are poems are poems
And names are names are names
And sometimes they meet and are one
And live happily ever after-
But there are times when perhaps
They never should have met each other at all.
Poems have their names
And names have their poems
But sometimes they love each other
And truly are one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
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The History Poems Have Not Been Written
The history poems have not been written
The poems after Milosz
The Wallace Stevens poems will never be written
I can’t come close
I have tried the Blake poems
But of course I am not near them either
I would like to the ironic intellectual poems
I might be able to do them
I could do a kind of surrealistic association mind poem a prose poem
But I don’t like that very much
The poems of Jerusalem have not been good enough
Poems of propaganda are awkward and unacceptable
The small poems that tell of my life
They are for me the chance at real poetry
And I will continue as best I can with them
The American poems I have not yet found the idiom for
I can be epigrammatic in Emerson Thoreau fashion
But not with the hard New England observing eye
Borges poems I love
And the stories of mind and literature
Making the drama of a life of a storyteller
Interest me
But I doubt I could truly do them well
Imitation can only take one so far
And through it one may lose one’s way entirely
I can really do only what I am
Not the Dickinson poems nor the Hopkins poems nor the Wordsworth poems nor the Keats poems nor the Amichai poems nor the poems of many others whose poetry I love
The Biblical poems have been tried
The poems of cosmic and scientific reflection
I could try to improve them
There are too many different kinds of poems to write
And I cannot write almost all of them
This is another poem about poems and poetry
I have written many for a long time now
Perhaps I need to go elsewhere and write in a new way
A way I have not dreamed or even remotely understood possible before.
The poems of the unknown poetry await me
I will go on but I am not sure now I know in which wa
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Which Poems Are True and Which Poems Only A Story?
WHICH POEMS ARE TRUE AND WHICH POEMS ONLY A STORY?
Which poems are true
and which poems only a story?
There are poems I have to write
They are the heart of who I am-
And other poems that tell a story my mind makes
And takes me where I do not know I'll ever really be-
There are real poems and there are imaginary poems-
And there are poems-in- between like this one.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Days Without Poems
DAYS WITHOUT POEMS
Days without poems-
Nights without poems-
A time of life without poems-
No poems anywhere.
Empty inside
Running outside
Tired.
No inner energy
No great urgency in feeling
Nothing.
In the emptiness inside of no- poems
I pass this time without song.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Joyce
The poesy inspiration to her comes easily
The poetess from Sunderland by the Atlantic sea
Sharing with the universe her great gift of joy
She will live forever her sort never die.
In February in England the morning fields are gray
But her poems fresh and lovely as the first flowers of May
And though the flowers of Summer will be long gone by Fall
Joyce's poems will live on and verse lovers will recall
How she make many happy with her gift of song
Her verses light and breezy they just float along
Like a windblown feather in the Summer air
Floating in the heaven's free of any care.
She's one in a billion people like her rare
Joyce Hemsley from Sunderland her great gift of poetry share
With all lovers of poetry, she's known far and wide
Greatness of the lady cannot be denied.
She has written so much verse and all of her verse is good
Quite uncomplicated and easily understood
And to her inspiration comes quite easily
The poetess from Sunderland by the Atlantic sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Always The Poems In Me
Always the poems in me-
Saying themselves over and over
Returning to lines learned long ago
Or lines learned with more difficulty in old age-
Always the poems in me-
While my own poems written
And forgotten
As if only
Poems of a single occasion
The time of their writing-
Always the poems in me-
The poems which others will have in them after me
Poems not my own.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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We Need Poems To Make Us Love Life More
WE NEED POEMS TO MAKE US LOVE LIFE MORE
We need poems to make us love life more
Poems that will make us happier
Poems that will make us kinder, better people.
We need poems that will inspire us
That will add to our sense of the world’s Beauty
We need Poems that will make us love others as we love ourselves as we love God.
We need holy poems
And joyful poems
And blessed poems
And kind poems
We need poems which will make us love life more
Which will help us love others and ourselves more
God more
We need poems.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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We Need New Poems
WE NEED NEW POEMS
We need new Poems-
So many great Poems
Have already been written.
Perhaps the Greatest poems
Have already been written.
But we need new poems.
We need our Poems
We need the poems only we can write
We need the poems we must write.
We need new poems
My poems
Your poems
Our poems.
We need new poems.
Let us write them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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(Remember poems) Remember the task of the poet remember poets
Your romantic poems
Will gladden hearts
And heal hearts
Your epic poems
Will fill minds
With wonder
And amazement
Your religious poems
Will cleanse spirits
And give hope will provide
Them with reason why they're here
Your poems
Will save souls
And comfort abused souls
The world needs your poems
You need the world's poems
It's a win win situation
We learn from each other
And learning we enrich
The spirit and the soul
It's a win win situation
All the way to self improvement
The closest to God we can come
Brothers
We cannot lose
Sisters
We dare not lose
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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All My Poems Rage In Me
ALL MY POEMS RAGE IN ME
All my poems rage in me,
Written and unwritten
But now I only write this one down
As if it in this moment
Stands for all of them.
Oh God what would I be
Without the poems
And what I am really
With them?
The day has been so long
And the twilight has come
And silence is all around me
And the Poems continue to rage
As if I never lived
And they too
Only will die.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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My Poems Are Poems Of The Light Of The Day
MY POEMS ARE POEMS OF THE LIGHT OF THE DAY
My poems are poems of the light of the day
The poems of the night are for others-
When the night comes
I hide and wait in silence
Until the day comes-
My poems are poems of the light of the day
And I dare not bring the poems of the night within them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Not Always Is The Music Heard Inside
Not always is the music heard inside-
Not always do the poems come-
Tiredness and emptiness are often silence,
And ‘wanting' a poem is not enough
To make a poem come-
Still if one listens long enough
If one really waits to hear
If one trusts oneself and one's own inner song,
In time
There will be again some hint of beauty
That needs to be expressed-
For those who live in poetry
And for those who bear it with them
Wherever they go,
The poem will come eventually
If God gives it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Are The Poems That Are Not The Real Poems
There are the poems that are not the real poems,
And the poems that are-
And the poems that are seem to come out of their own saying
With a rhythm and a meaning which makes a music so deep,
Even the most lonely soul feels them as a singing inside.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Let's Leave The 'Poems' Without Metaphors
LET’S LEAVE THE ‘POEMS’ WITHOUT METAPHORS
Let’s leave the ‘poems’ without metaphors
Bare and stark and original
Quiet and sleeping and still
The soothing poems the calming poems
The poems that even in the middle of the night
Let us sleep.
Let’s leave the poems without metaphors
And go back to the simple words
And let them say all they can by themselves
Until they become metaphors too.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Critics Have Appeared
critics have appeared
in these cyber times
hunting for poems
and passing wise words
on poems they swallow in seconds
and whose comments are like puke;
and whose own gems of poems when you seek
it turns out, they have not published any
at the very poetry portals where they pass such magnificent judgment…
O Ye Critics who hunt for poems
come back another day
when you have poems some of your very own…
poem by Raj Arumugam
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I Have Read Many Poems I Know I Never Could Have Written
I have read many poems I know I never could have written
Poems whose language was far richer and more remarkable than mine
Poems that saw as I cannot see and sounded as I cannot sound
Poems of magnificent music and many hidden meanings
I have read many poems greater than those I could ever write
And have been humbled and saddened and inspired by them
Out there somewhere else
There have been real poets
And I in my own little lines
Love and respect them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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