The Poet Overwhelmed
THE POET OVERWHELMED
The poet overwhelmed
By the momentary beauty of the world –
Stops -
And writes his little lines
In the Morning Light.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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This Poet Is Always Beside You
You are reading my poem but,
This poet is never known;
However, this poet is always beside you.
I am on your lips and,
I am in your mouth;
I am in your heart and,
I am in your mind;
Because, this poet is always beisde you.
This poet writes and others read,
This poet speaks and others listen,
And this poet is always beside you;
But, this poet is never known.
The works of this poet are on the internet,
And, they are being read by many! !
But, this poet is never known;
However, this poet is always beside you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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The Poet Writes Of Poems And Poets And Poetry
THE POET WRITES OF POEMS AND POETS AND POETRY
The poet writes of poems and poets and poetry,
And the world goes by
And nothing is done.
And the sky- the sky.
Is it still above?
And Love and Kindness
Are they still deep in us,
Words or not?
Without Poetry the world does not exist for the poet-
But for others,
Dreams have other names,
And Music plays on,
And singing and laughter
Go on as the Beauty of Light.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Before a Poetry Reading
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I'm feeling nervous but I mustn't show it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I hope to heaven that I won't blow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
I mustn't reveal that I'm a second-rate poet!
I'm only a rhymer, but they don't know it!
If you've got no talent you'll have to grow it!
'Poet! Poet! Poet! Poet! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison

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Poet Is A Poet/Wherever He Goes
A POET IS A POET/ WHEREVER HE GOES
A poet is a poet
Wherever he goes
He can stop and sit on a bench anywhere
And write a poem
The poems come from without often
But what is within is the poetry-
Like a dream like a fire like a small light
That never goes out
A poet sits anywhere and writes his dream-
poem by Shalom Freedman

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A Poet Without A Poem/ Empty and Desperate
A POET WITHOUT A POEM
A poet without a poem
Empty and desperate
Forces a few lines
As way of reviving himself.
The lines lead to other lines
A poem begins to come.
The poet hears his hope as he writes
And then when there is a poem
He just rests happily
Knowing he is alive again.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Morning Sunshine
This poet is so seductive
This poet is now strange to me
This poet is so bold
This little girl doesn't want to see
The little girl has known this poet
ever since
But the little girl is already
tired of this poet
She just wants to play.
Not any passing minute
She hasn't have
any word of
allegory
metonymy and
simile
Take me away from this poet yet
the little girl must empty first
the words of this poet
Before she is free to play
in the morning sunshine
and go away from this busy poet
Do you think I'm too young to see?
Do you agree?
This poet won't let me
play out in the middle of the rain
This poet won't let me
see the afternoon sway
This poet won't let me
see the morning gay
Let me see the Morning Sunshine
Let me see!
But this poet
Won't let me
I'll just watch t.v
and sing
her poetry
poem by Mary Jesusa Villegas

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The Poet I Am', And 'The Poet I Am Not
The poet I am, and the poet I am not
‘The poet I am’ says
To ‘the poet I am not’,
‘Why can’t I be more like you? ’
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Because you are not good enough’
And ‘the poet I am’ begins to cry,
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Real poets cry for more meaningful things’
And ‘the poet I am’ says ‘I am who I am and what I will be means so much to me. But still I am not the poet I wanted to be’.
And ‘the poet I am not’ says
‘Exactly. Were you less concerned with who you are and more concerned with others you might be a bit more of a poet than you are now.’
And ‘the poet I am’ is silent.
And ‘the poet I am not’is somewhere else being someone else
That ‘the poet I am and the poet I am not’ cannot see or dream.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Overwhelmed By My Own Inner Feeling
OVERWHELMED BY MY OWN INNER FEELING
Overwhelmed by my own inner feeling
The poems come to me today-
They say:
“Life is so much more
than we will ever say or know’
They say,
“Beauty is greater than any song I have”
They say,
“Walk humbly with God.
You too are like a wind
Which though it waken the world for a moment
Will pass by as if it never was.”
poem by Shalom Freedman

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The Poet Who No Longer Believes In Himself
THE POET WHO NO LONGER BELIEVES IN HIMSELF
The poet who no longer believes in himself
And writes on anyway-
The poet who is too weak to stop writing-
The poet who has died as a poet,
Before he has as a person-
The poet who may never have lived as a poet-
The old old old schnook,
Still trying to write a poem
And believing he has done it once again.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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A Poet Became His Own Poetry
A POET BECAME HIS OWN POETRY
A poet became his own poetry
And all he could be
Was lines and lines and lines
Inside and outside
Lines and more lines
Off- rhymes
Finding a phrase
A metaphor
Hearing listening
To sounds
His own mind made.
A poet became his own poetry
And went into the long sleep
Of being only what he wrote.
No one can know how
Reading these lines now
The poet and the poetry live
without themselves.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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I Am A Poet Of Short Lines
I am a poet of short lines-
Of lines that are phrases,
Of lines that are small and broken-
I am a poet of short lines-
Of impatience and small breath,
Of hurrying and not taking time-
I am a poet of short lines-
Of condensation and conciseness,
Of maximum meaning in minimum space-
I am a poet of short lines
Short ones.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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The Poet Walks Slowly
THE POET WALKS SLOWLY
The poet walks slowly
The dream of the world surrounds him
As Light.
He stops to write
And the words open up happily,
As if the morning and the fresh breeze
Were all there need be
Of God’s Soul.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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The Universe Writes A Poem
The universe is a poet.
She looked at him
with a forgiving smile.
How would you know that?
Well, the credo flows
from the unity
of the knower and the known,
he said.
Besides,
symmetry involves reciprocity.
And the holographic qualities
of the cosmos imply
that just as the poet
is part of the universe,
the universe is part
of the poet, too.
So, when a poet writes a poem
the universe writes its own.
poem by Paul Hartal

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World view
Come to poet
And enjoy life.
Come to poet
And see beauty.
Come to poet
And know truth.
Come to poet
And have patience.
No non-sense can
Disturb you
And you have
At your hand
World view.
poem by Gajanan Mishra

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The Poet And The Lonely Lady
one summer a poet writes about
true love
and happiness
and this lonely lady
chances upon the lines of this poet
and she has tasted the sweetness
of happiness that love can bring
she loves every word in the poem
feels the ecstasy of every line
and every night
she says she cannot sleep
thinking, feeling,
wanting to be lost and be held in
his arms
she decides to love
the poet
ultimately
she travels to the place stated in his address
hoping to see him
so she will finally know
his love that touches her
in the bottom
of her heart
only to find out
it is sad
that the address does not exist
and the poet does not live there
and does not even
exist
perhaps only in the imagination
of those who want to love
and be loved
she is so sad she jumps into
a conclusion that love is a
lie
that the poet is a
liar
since then, she stops reading the poems
of that poet
(or any other poet)
who never dies
because he for once never ever lived
in the first place
except the poem
perhaps
which to date still convinces lonely ladies to live and believe
to love and be loved
that which defines
what love is
where love is found
and find it somehow in the arms of one
who is real, like it is alive, like it is true
to the one beside her
who touches her
with his
warm hands
who melts
her in his eyes
because
even unwritten by any poet
this love is still so beautiful....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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A Message Here For All You Poets
The love poet writes of lovely things like true love and flowers in bloom
And the roses in the poet's garden scent of a sweet perfume
And the gentle hearted applaud him saying what a marvellous poet
He surely is a child of God and one worthy of note.
The love poet writes of love of God and the God fearing say
He's a fine poet one of the best love and respect to God he pay
He hear no evil speak no evil only write of God and love
And there's a place reserved for him in God's Kingdom up above.
The social issues poet writes of the poor and few his verses read
They say he writes such morbid stuff sob stories we do not need
He keeps highlighting the downtrodden and those in poverty
He ought to put more trust in God and in Humanity.
A message here for all you poets don't write of the downtrod
But write of affairs of your heart and write of your love of God
And some will say how great you are and your praises they will sing
And they will pay respect to you and call you their Poetic Queen or King.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Poet is free
Poet is free
No grammarian can guide the poet
Do not tell before a poet you are dare
And I know there are so many grammarians
With so many grammars
The poet is one with truth with love
All the grammars old middle modern
Are of no use for a poet
At the time of poet's thought
Poet's love poet's poetry
Nobody can search research poet's history
Nobody can dare to described poet
Poet can create his own language
His own grammar and it does not bother the poet
Whether you like it or not
Leave the poet on his own way
It is better you to read him love him
If you are alive.
poem by Gajanan Mishra

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If you really wish to know the poets
If you wish
to understand poets
If you wish
to know what’s in their minds
Then you must read
their poetry
But you must also read
between the lines
For The most revealing lines
a poet writes about himself
Are the ones…
not written upon the wall
Unwritten yes…but hints abound in…
can be found in
Choice of subject…And choice of title
About the poet…tells us all
poem by David Whalen

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Silvery Beauty Vavroovahana Patra
Innocent silvery beauty passes on the way;
Poet beholds the beauty of Beauty with gay.
The creation of Nature is alluring;
Innocent Beauty is dazzling.
Beautiful face allures passes by;
Allures lovers with gay.
Beauty is the creation of Almighty;
Beholding, poet derives gaiety.
Beauty tranquilises poet's mind on the way;
Poet derives profound peace with gay.
Curly crisp wavy long cloudy hairs entice the poet;
Mind remains in the world of peace with delight.
Innocent beautiful face allures the poet in evening;
Poet's mind is delighting.
With a little conversation mind is peaceful;
Her sweet talk is delightful.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra

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The Poem Is The Poet
THE POEM IS THE POET
The poem is the poet
It tells his story even when he does not intend it to-
It bears his signature even when he forges it-
The poem is the poet-
It reflects his mind his soul-
It cannot be written without what he is
Though he denies what he is to himself-
The poem is the poet
And the poet's contradictions-
It is the mask of his self - expression
And his ultimate definition in words-
When he writes he becomes himself
And when he finishes it
He leaves a part of himself in it for as long as it exists.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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