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My Mind Has Become A Poem

My mind has become a poem
And whatever I think and feel
Forms into lines
And imprisons me

I can't escape
I am lost in the poem I am

And written by it
I almost forget
That I too
Am not really
Just a Dream

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem About The Poem About The Poem

THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM ABOUT THE POEM

The poem about the poem about the poem
Written in dream
And forgotten in sleep
Comes back to me slowly now
As if it had been away on a long long journey
And is reluctant to come home-

I write it
But it really writes me
And when I try to make sense of what it means
It tells me its ambiguities
Are more important and interesting
Than my clarity-

The poem about the poem about the poem
Written now
May not be a poem about a poem about a poem at all
But may merely be my own playing with words
Which take the place in my life
Of really living-

A poem about a poem about a poem?
Surely this is a mysterious thing
If it exists at all.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem That Perhaps Never Should Have Been Written

THE POEM THAT PERHAPS NEVER SHOULD HAVE BEEN WRITTEN

Not the poem of yesterday
Nor the poem of tomorrow
But the poem of today-
What gives life meaning now.
Not the poem as it is read
But the poem as it is written.
Not the certain poem
But the poem that does not know
If it truly is a poem.
The poem that gives hope only when it is written-
The lesser poem-
The poem that perhaps never should have been written.
The poem I am writing now,
Perhaps for myself alone
The lesser poem
The poem that perhaps should never have been at all.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dream Poem

this poem is a dream
you wish to escape

if only you would awake
you could forget this poem

words pursue you through
the white pages of this dream

the voices you hear have
been spoken by this poem

people reach out, they live
here, they dream of you

now you smile, eager to dream
on, but the poem is fa d i n g

poem by Bruce Deitrick Price
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This Is A Poem Written To Escape Doing Something Else

THIS IS A POEM WRITTEN TO ESCAPE DOING SOMETHING ELSE

This is a poem written to escape doing something else
Perhaps in a way all my poems have been written to escape doing something else
Some lifetime work I never wanted to do?
Some hard business task?
Some duty of life I felt myself not up to yet?
Some meeting some personal confrontation?

But this poem
A small poem indeed
Is written because I fear the longer work I have to do
Will not be alright-

But then don't I also fear this poem too and all the poems
Will not be alright?

All my life I have been escaping into poetry-

Why in my old age how in my old age
Should I
Change this now?

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Escape Again Into A Poem

I escape again into a poem
I hide here
I forget the practical duties and questions
I forget the meaninglessness of it all
I escape into a poem
And in the small dream of writing
I am whole and at peace-
And without a question
Except for the poem itself-

Here I am again running away today
While the days themselves are running out -
Until the day comes
When nothing more need be done
And no poetry needed either.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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
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....

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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Nothing..

This poem is not about love..
This poem is not about pain..
This poem is not about the things i have learned...

This poem is not for the broken hearted..
This poem is not for the ones seeking help..
This poem is not for the depressed...
This poem is for no one,
Because no one can contain nothing...

This poem is not filled with wisdom..
This poem was not written with love...
This poem was not written for a lover nor a brother...

This poem was nothing special...
Not quite remarkable....
But it is nothing because that what it was...
Nothing and it will never be anything...

poem by Jenna Marie
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The Poem Is Restless In Me

THE POEM IS RESTLESS IN ME

The poem is restless in me-
It waits to be heard-
Now that it comes
It does not feel especially happy about itself.
It knows it is not real-
It is not much-
Just because it is called a poem by me
Does not make it a poem -
The mind has its own place-
My mind also -
I am always thinking poems are with me,
And poems waiting to come-
But who am I and what do I know?
These lines are written in the still of the morning
When the light outside still brings hope
That a new day is possible.
But so many poems have been written in the early morning
And I am so old from hearing them said to me by myself-
And what does it all mean anyway in the end when God is the Only One?
And who am I to know what God is, or invoke the name of God
In such a small thing as my own poetry?

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem Was Destroyed By Its Own Words

The poem was destroyed by its own words
And could not be written-

The words were not good enough
The words were not exact enough -

The poem nonetheless wanted to be
It waited in longing for other words-

Other words came
But they were not the poem either-

The poem it appeared
Was never to be -

The poem disappeared
Before it could be written

That poem forever is not
And in its place only these lines

Barely a poem at all.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is My Poem

This is my poem of ______. (date)
This is my poem, written by myself.
This is my first poem never written.
This is my last poem now to be written.
This is the poem I would have written
if I had lived yesterday what I lived today.

This is my poem changing white light
into gold-leaf
and blue into violet.

This is my poem like a heaven twisting
and turning inside of me
all night long.

This is my poem of opening a window
to show what was always inside.

This is my poem encompassing everything
hope can bestow or chance agree with.

This is my poem of open-ended freedom.

This is my poem breathing life into motion.

This is my poem written as I wrote it
a living being.

And this is my poem ending;
but only for today..

poem by Patti Masterman
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Poem.

I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,

I like the story.

poem by Aisha Patterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem.

I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,

I like the story.

poem by David Carter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For a Lost Poem

Dedicated to the poem 'Moon Light' that was written a few years back.

For a Lost Poem
A poem written long ago –
disappeared on the face of the earth
as if it never existed – but somewhere
beyond this skyline it did;
where the moon sits, and shines its light –
this poem has been erased from history,
from where it was put into storage.

Oh poem, I feel a loss for you!
Where have you gone? Oh where have you gone?
Moon Light, once many people read,
and praised me for such delicacy,
now she is gone too.

As if death has to come with:
the darkening sky, oh ye poem –
ye selfless poem come back and
let the light shine upon you.
A poem has gone, but where?

poem by Celine Berghmans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Have No Poem Now- At The End Of Hoshanah-Rabbah

I HAVE NO POEM NOW- AT THE END OF HOSHANAH RABBAH

I have no poem now-
I want to have a poem now-
I try to write a poem now-
Is this a poem now?

All the lines of my life are written in water.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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