Related quotes: The poems own me now-...

The Poems Own Me Now

The poems own me now-
If I did not write them
I would not know what to do with myself-

Each one is a small adventure in thought
Often they take me to where I never was before-

To search to seek to find is to live-
Without the new thought the new line,
What would life be?

As I write this now I have the delusion that I am doing something
That I am discovering something
Perhaps I am-

I need to do this-
And it is hard for me to imagine life now
Without it.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Poems Are My Life Now

POEMS ARE MY LIFE NOW

Poems are my life now-
I write them as if they are all
I will ever write-
I live in them
I take hope in them-

Small
And yet not delicate
My heart and soul in them
The Poems I write now
Are all I will ever be
In Literature –

Maybe they too are nothing
But they are what I have and am now.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Story Of A Search For A Poem

A man went in search of a Poem
He searched everywhere he walked
He searched inside himself
He searched inside the poems of others
He searched and searched -

And what came to him were fragments of many poems
And he thought perhaps that they themselves were the poem
But they refused to be satisfied with themselves-

So he searched for a way to put them together-
But in searching came upon more fragments
With each new fragment totally re-ordering those that had gone before-

So he thought ‘I went looking for one poem but found many
Perhaps there are only many poems’

And he began to write them down
And felt at times that he had found many poems
But always too he knew he had not found the one-

So he searched and searched again
And could not find the Poem-

He is still searching
And does not know where the poem is
Sometimes he thinks it is hidden in the many already written
But he does not have the eye to discern it the heart to feel it-

He now is surrounded by poems-
They are everywhere-
But he still cannot find the One Poem which is the Poem for him
The Poem which is his Poem and his Poem alone-

He says he is still searching and will search to the end of his days
But he is old now and soon may be too weak to search
And so the Poem he seeks the one he has longed for all his life
May never be found
Though he goes on searching still.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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I don't write poems

I don't write poems,
I drink them like wine,
I become tipsy
with each coming line.

I don't write poems,
I breathe them like air,
I become so happy
when each one I share.

I don't write poems,
I live with them;
they prolong my years,
they are as true as I am.

I don't write poems,
I weave into verses
sadness, joy, tears,
prayers, love, curses…

My poems talk and sing,
Sense of living they bring.

©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
26th of April,2012

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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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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If We In Verse Slay Ourselves

with 'something to say'
which needs to be said
it is not necessary for us

to 'live long enough to write
the poem we know we can write'
because with something to say

if we seek universal truth
if we dedicated write enough
at least a few poems will

eventually be 'the poem
we know we can write'
if we in verse slay ourselves

poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Wanted To Write The Poems Of The Stars

I WANTED TO WRITE THE POEMS OF THE STARS

I wanted to write the poems of the stars
The poem of Beauty and Hope and Inspiration
I wanted to write a poem that helped others
Find Joy and Meaning in their lives -

I write my little poems
Often they are the sad truths of my own little life
Consolations for myself
I think may perhaps echo the souls of others.

I am not what I would have been
And perhaps not what I should be
I am what I am
What G-d has given me to be -

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Good to write poems

I want everyone in theworld
To write poems
Poems is the best to happy writing
Anger sad and pain
Which you write it in poems
Heal faster and better
Than any medicine in theworld
Because I know I write
In anger sad pain and much joy
Romance exotic and love
Society reality and life
Religion GOD and fantasia
I write what I feel and heard
Peaceful within, no more hurt or sad
Anger all to happiness and
Forgiveness you find
Solution you get
The joy the fulfillment
The happy feeling and heal
I can’t felt it until each poem I write

poem by See Fee Lee
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I Wrote A Poem I Could Not Write

I wrote a poem I could not write-
And then when I tried to write it again
Could not write it again -

Poems written and not written
Words and more words
What do they mean?

Paradoxes and games with words
What do they mean?

If there is Beauty in the language
It is one thing
But words just to hear themselves think,
Why should they mean ‘Remembrance'?

Oh Words oh Questions oh Darkness oh Life-
Let me write myself to the grave
Believing at least
That poems too even when they can be written
Have their small unhidden meanings.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Am My Poem

When you see me,
you see my poems.
For when i breath, i breath out ballads.
But vers libre express my heart.

Should i write in complicated
and rhythmic words to make
my poems deep and beautiful?
My life is complicated already.

Should i write in simple and
enticing words to make
my poems attractive?
My life is not that simple.

Like stream to the river
down to the sea,
so is my poems from my
soul to my spirit down to my body.

You may disapprove me
but come and take a walk
within my soul and see if
you can live there for a moment.

So when i write, must i
invite you to read.
Read if you want to.
I write because the chamber
of soul finds relieve.

poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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Why I Write?

I write poems for myself and I write for the readers
I write for the masses and I write for the leaders
I write to imprint my thoughts in people's mind
I write to make the bad guys helpful and kind
I write to light up our path to Great God
I write for everyone home and abroad
I write to preserve values new and old
I write to make my ink precious like gold
I write for peace and I write for progress
I write to make the world a better place
All major issues I want to address
I write to see smile on God's face

poem by Asif Andalib
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I write and write/ And little poems come

I WRITE AND WRITE

I write and write
And little poems come -
I am happy with my life
I write and write.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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All I Can Do Is Write Poems

ALL I CAN DO IS WRITE POEMS

All I can do is write poems
I have nothing else to say-
Only what Poetry alone can give
The expression of the soul
The deepest feeling we have
Whatever is in us and hurts the most
And needs most to be said.
All I can do in pain is write poems
But when the gladness comes?
When the happiness returns?
I will try too to to find words
For what is unsayable.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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We Live Poems We Cannot Write

WE LIVE POEMS WE CANNOT WRITE

We live poems we cannot write-
Words of beauty that sometimes come suddenly
And disappear before we think to transcribe them-
Indescribable perceptions that move rapidly within us
And are gone before we can even be fully conscious of them-

We live poems we cannot write
Worlds of feeling there are no words for-

Our lives are pervaded by unwritten poetry
And our strongest Will and most determined Memory
cannot make pages of it all.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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I don't

Many people write
For their true emotions to unravel
Out of depression, angst, spite
But I can’t
I don’t write poems when I’m sad

They write from their experiences
When he left me
When they died
Bringing tears, causing cries
But I can’t
I don’t write when I’m sad

The tears dutifully stain my cheek
And roll on and on
Through and through
Down
Down
Down
But I can’t
And I don’t write poems when I’m sad

And all the anger and sadness
Thrust inside of me
Just bursting to get out
Screaming
Pleading
Begging to get out
But they can’t
Because I don’t write poems when I’m sad

And I don’t know what to do
How to express my pain
And woe, and the feeling
It drains me, and it shows
But there’s nothing I can do
Because I don’t ever write poetry when I’m sad

poem by Amy
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Brephos

Although it is easy for one to think, it is not always easy for one to write
Not all thoughts can be expressed into words, nor should they. Rousseau said in his solitary walks or was it his confessions? That his most beautiful thoughts died in him as quick as he thought them and how he at the time wished he had a pen in hand to write them all down. Those thoughts are dead, but perhaps those same thoughts are born in others written down somewhere in all of infinite time. Some thoughts like some lives are not meant to be born. The seed of this thought, watered by my serene tears, germinates in my soul as I write this letter. Still I can't find the words to express its beauty, its paradox, its mystery. The seed germinates but no plant is born, no flower blooms. For every child that isn't born, for every thought trapped in the moral order nature's thought; the ineffable, the unborn, the unknown, I hope one day you find expression and tell the world what you are and what beauty really is—To eloquence that never speaks, to thought that never thinks, to life that never lives, in my heart you speak, think and live.

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Perhaps My Poems Have Already Been Written

PERHAPS MY POEMS HAVE ALREADY BEEN WRITTEN

Perhaps my poems have already been written
Perhaps it is all now senseless repetition
Perhaps I should just stop
And go on if I can to some other form of writing
God gives us what we have
We strive to go beyond ourselves
We can to a certain point
But then we have done what we have done
We can live a million years more
And write a million more poems
But what we have to write
Is done
Perhaps my poems have already been written
And small and poor and awkward as they are
Less than the truest poetry
They are what I have and am
Good-bye myself
I cannot go home.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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It's life that matters, nothing but life — the process of discovering, the everlasting and perpetual process, not the discovery itself, at all. But what's the use of talking! I suspect that all I'm saying now is so like the usual commonplaces that I shall certainly be taken for a lower-form schoolboy sending in his essay on "sunrise", or they'll say perhaps that I had something to say, but that I did not know how to "explain" it. But I'll add, that there is something at the bottom of every new human thought, every thought of genius, or even every earnest thought that springs up in any brain, which can never be communicated to others, even if one were to write volumes about it and were explaining one's idea for thirty-five years; there's something left which cannot be induced to emerge from your brain, and remains with you forever; and with it you will die, without communicating to anyone perhaps the most important of your ideas.

quote by Dostoyevsky
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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