The Poem Before Shabbat
The poem before Shabbat
Wanted to be a happy one-
It wanted to be one in which all preparations made
And the mind able to rest and forget-
The poem before Shabbat
Wanted to leave the world of the everyday behind
And move to another realm
Of Sanctity and Peace-
The poem before Shabbat
Wanted to be on the verge
Of a new soul a new world
Of Joy and Peace-
Of Shabbat.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Last Poem Before Shabbat Comes
THE LAST POEM BEFORE SHABBAT ENTERS
The last poem before Shabbat enters
Already partakes of Shabbat
It has the hush of quiet sanctity
'Neshama Yeterah' on the way
It knows that it need not pain or praise,
The work has already been done,
It's time to rest.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem Of The Afternoon Quiet Before Shabbat
THE POEM OF THE AFTERNOON QUIET BEFORE SHABBAT
The poem of the afternoon quiet before Shabbat
Is a peaceful poem -
Waiting and already resting
I try to remember those days
When Shabbat was Shabbat
In greatest joy and happiness-
But I am older now than I want to know
Shabbat has a quiet and music of a different kind
God can be served in old age also-
Let the family gather and the guests come
Let prayer be our music -
Joy is rest and quiet and peaceful family love also.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sabbath Queen
The sun has already disappeared beyond the treetops,
Come let us go and welcome the Sabbath Queen,
She is already descending among us, holy and blessed,
And with her are angels, a host of peace and rest,
Come, O Queen,
Come, O Queen,
Peace be unto you, O Angels of Peace.'
We have welcomed the Shabbat with song and prayer,
Let us return home our hearts full of joy.
There, the table is set, the lights are lit,
Every corner of the house is shining with a divine spark.
A good and blessed Shabbat.
A good and blessed Shabbat.
Come in peace, O Angels of Peace.
Sit among us, O pure Shabbat Queen, and enlighten us with your splendor.
Tonight and tomorrow–then you may pass on.
And we for our part will honor you by wearing beautiful clothing,
By singing zemirot, by praying, and by eating three meals.
And with complete rest.
And with pleasant rest.
Bless me with peace, O Angels of Peace.
The sun has already disappeared beyond the treetops.
Come let us accompany the Sabbath Queen’s departure.
Go in peace, holy and blessed.
Know that for six day we will await your return.
Yes, till next Shabbat.
Yes, till next Shabbat.
Go in peace, O Angels of Peace.
poem by Hayyim Nahman Bialik
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The Poem Of Shabbat Morning Is Gone
THE POEM OF SHABBAT MORNING IS GONE
The poem of Shabbat morning is gone-
Forgotten forever
As if it never was.
It came to me
And I could not write it down
And now it is gone.
The world is filled with poems which are lost
And never written down
Great works and great mysteries
Never to really be.
In all those billions of unrecorded lives
That went before us on this earth
There were many many poems lost.
I write this down now
as compensation-
How many poorer poems
have replaced
the true poems
that were once
and never are to be?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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His Work Is His Poem
HIS WORK IS HIS POEM
His work is his poem
And if he does not write
He has not earned his rest.
Thus these meager lines
Written before Shabbat
So his soul may sing ‘Lecha Dodi’
freely.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wanted A Poem / Which Would Take Me Beyond Myself
I wanted a poem
Which would take me beyond myself
Which would make me feel the Beauty
Of this world
In a new way.
I wanted a poem
Whose music really was of the stars
A poem of the kind
That makes you feel alive
And know what you want
To live for in this world.
I wanted a poem
I would love and believe in
Always
And whenever I walked
Would be with me
To say over and over again.
I wanted you
But you did not want
Me.
The poem is someone else’s
And I am alone with my
Words.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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An Hour Before Shabbat And Chag
AN HOUR BEFORE SHABBAT AND CHAG
An hour before Shabbat and Chag
All is quiet
Everything has been prepared-
There is a silent gratitude to God
Holiness before greater Holiness-
I thank God for all these years in Israel
And for these holy times which come again
Year after year-
May we bless each other
And may God bless us also this year with-
"Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach"
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wanted To Write The Most Beautiful Poem
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
The one beyond any music I had known-
The one which would reveal the changes
in yellows and greens
spring sunlight whispered to the trees
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
The one which would tell the stories of all those I have loved and cared for-
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
As a poem of Kindness-
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
Of sublime and overpowering distance
Of stars when stars were dreams -
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem-
But I knew many other poems already written
Would always be far more beautiful than mine-
So I tried to write the most beautiful poem I could-
But the light outside
The world and its colors
The beauties we see and hear everyday
Said to me again and again,
'Walk more humbly with your God and do Justice and love Mercy also'.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wanted To Start The Day With A Poem
I wanted to start the day with a poem
I heard instead a blessing for washing my hands
I wanted to start the day with a poem
“My eyes are lifted to the hills
From whence cometh my help”
I wanted to start the day with a poem
“Never did sun more beautifully steep in its first splendor
Valley rock or hill”
I wanted to start the day with a poem-
So I stopped and listened again
And waited to hear myself from inside
While my eyes were enraptured by the everyday light of things
I wanted to start the day with a poem
And the day started without me
And the poem said itself quietly
And waited while I happily wrote it down.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Moment Remembered Of Shabbat Ha-Gadol 5770
A MOMENT REMEMBERED OF SHABBAT HA- GADOL 5770
Darkness-
Black clouds- grey spaces-
Morning light nonetheless-
A sudden happiness recalling
So many times of Shabbat Happiness
Given by God-
And now this year- Health again
The hope of more years-
Dark skies and so much light still-
I walk and pray on.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem At The End Of A Too- Errand Filled Day
THE POEM AT THE END OF A TOO ERRAND- FILLED DAY
The poem at the end of a too errand- filled day
Is a poem of incompleteness.
I might have done more today
I might have found a way to ‘truly write’
I might have reached that feeling
That I am in the true thing.
Tired and errand- troubled
Even afternoon sleep could not revive me.
I write this now
As the last effort
Before the Candles are lit
To enter Shabbat
As if I have earned
The rest
we are about to be blessed with.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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In The Midst Of My Sins
i wanted a poem
like some book
taken down and
dusted off opened
up like torn pages
from some script
“it should have
been written” like
this', I wanted a
poem with thick lips
big eyes and a
dove tattoo, early
words rising from
a throaty voice, two
drinks in, I wanted
a poem like this, hands
twisted sweaty
with praying, eyes
tight shut from
the light, I wanted
a poem that said
“it’s all been done, you’re
just sinkin ships son”
photographs, floating dead
in bathrooms, bedrooms
my sins pulling at
my coattails, i
wanted
a poem.
poem by Ben Paynter
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The Poem Tired Of Being Written Of Itself
THE POEM TIRED OF BEING WRITTEN OF ITSELF
The poem tired of being written of itself
It wanted other worlds and more distant beauty
It wanted the inspiration that ordinary life gives
It wanted too a language beyond what simple words could mean
But the poem could not be more than it was
It fell back upon itself
It was lost in its own lonely being
The poem stayed forever a poem about itself
And when no one read it
The poem had only itself to blame.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wanted A Poem For The Morning
I wanted a poem for the morning
A poem to begin the day with-
A poem which would give my life hope -
I wanted a poem
Which would say I am alive
A good poem a kind poem
A poem which would make others a bit more happy-
And as so often
I wrote a poem
And left it as a question for the longer daylight and
the longer night which also is our life
beyond the morning-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wanted A Poem In The Early Morning-Even Before The Darkness Had Gone
I WANTED A POEM IN THE EARLY MORNING
I wanted a poem in the early morning
Even before the darkness had gone-
I wanted to hear words
That meant music
That said I was alive and could write-
I wanted a poem in the early morning
So that I could be justified
For the rest of the day-
Time and again I have written that poem
I write it now -
How wonderful when it flows as if it is real
I may never know that it is
But in writing it, thank God, I feel alive and blessed
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A love poem to a poem
for there’s what you planned to write about,
and what you find yourself
writing about; perhaps
find yourself, while writing about..
and there’s the poem itself; did you
consult it about what
its plans were? and when
it’s got itself written,
gone where it wanted to,
said what it wanted to say,
become what it wanted to become,
do you really know
what it’s finally and really about?
is it telling you more about
you than you knew yourself?
is the poem writing you?
did we, as with the unicorn,
feel the unspoken need for it,
and it became?
in some other world,
did two grains of dust change places?
did a new sort of light
shine on a new sort of place
in some new sort of time?
poems are like cats:
we think we own them;
they allow us certain rights,
but they own us.
this is a love poem
to a poem
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Irritation Is Not The Best Feeling To Begin A Poem With
IRRITATION IS NOT THE BEST FEELING TO BEGIN A POEM WITH
Irritation is not the best Feeling to begin a poem with
But the great heat, the great humidity
The slowness of my mind on Motzei Shabbat
The many errands that must be done tomorrow
The inability to begin true work,
The news of another anti- Semitic utterance by the Nobel Prize winner Gunter Grass
Above all the worry over the health of a family member
All these irritate and disturb-
And I can at best write a few plain lines
Begin to work
To make myself feel better
But not really influence what is outside myself-
And too the irritation that my poem and my words
Will reach a few at best
While the mendacious former Waffen SS member's poem
Has already made its hateful way to headlines in the world-
Oh it is wonderful to be an obscure nothing in writing
When it is only my own name and reputation which are involved,
But when it means I cannot really help the people I care about
This irritation this frustration anger so-
Oh how I just pray that my loved one
Will be after the doctor's visit
Better tonight.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Would Write A Quiet Poem
I WOULD WRITE A QUIET POEM
I would write a quiet poem.
There is so much noise in the world.
A poem to be read in silence
A poem to give comfort and rest
A poem of peace
Of mind and soul.
A quiet poem
Against all the furies and pains of this world
A poem of peace
Restful as the most bliss-filled sleep.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wanted My Poem To Be A Real Poem
I WANTED MY POEM TO BE A REAL POEM
I wanted my poem to be a real poem-
I have read and studied and memorized
So many real poems-
I wanted my poem to be one of them
Which others would read and feel and memorize
And make their own –
We want and we want and we want
And who are we with all our wanting?
Who am I with all my wanting?
One more dreamer
One more ambitious person
One more lover of poems
One more writer of poems
One more wanter of real poems
Who writes this poem
For others
who dream like me
of writing real poems.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Shabbat Is A Different Kind of Silence
Shabbat is a different kind of Silence
The one I make willingly –
Its quiet comes as a sacred blessing
And the song of its prayer
The happiness of peace.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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