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The Silence Of A Poem

THE SILENCE OF A POEM

The Silence of a Poem
Brings Peace.
One is alone for a moment
With a few small words
And they help one live.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Tired Of The Word 'Poem

I AM TIRED OF THE WORD ‘POEM’

I am tired of the word ‘poem’
‘Poem’ ‘poem’ ‘poem’ ‘poem and ‘poem’ again
Weren’t there stars before there were poems?
And won’t there be light somewhere else
when no one has words to say?
And in all the great Silence before and ever after
won’t there be the being of something real however unsaid and unknown?
And won’t ‘Poem’ and ‘poems’ too like all of us
Cease one day to be and never again know that they are?
All the immortals are mortal and their poems too
Silence before and Silence after
And no words forevermore.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rumi's silence

Rumi wrote much about silence.
Does that seem strange?

Poets live with silence:
the silence before the poem;
the silence whence the poem comes; .

the silence in between the words, as you
drink the words, watch them glide through your mind,
feel them slide down your throat
towards your heart;

the silence which you share with the poet
when the poem ends, sitting side by side,
feeling one another being one heart;

the silence after the poem,
when you are a different person
from the person who started reading the poem,
think differently, move differently,
act differently; know Rumi a little better
as a friend; know yourself a little more
as a friend.

Rumi was asked, why do you
talk, talk, talk, so much
about silence?

He said, the radiant one inside me
has said nothing.

And that’s the silence which we listen to
and hear in Rumi’s heart,
here, sitting in the cool shade
which the scent of roses seems to love,
while the fountain gently plays like a poet
with sound and silence.

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Full fat voluptuous silence

Silence
Except for the poem
The poem is reading in my head
I can make it stop, for a while
Then it starts again

I can jump onto the words
And for a time I ride the line
Then dropping off I stand and watch
as the poem goes rolling by

The poem has broken colours
Bits of sound and not much shape
And suddenly I am in tears
I have to look away and wait

Finally there is silence
Full fat voluptuous silence
Except
Except for the poem

poem by Sean Joyce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The poem is reading in my head

Silence, except for the poem
The poem is reading in my head
I can make it stop, for a while
Then it starts again

I can jump onto the words
And for a time I ride the line
Then dropping off I stand and watch
as the poem goes rolling by

The poem has broken colours
Bits of sound and not much shape
And suddenly I am in tears
I have to look away and wait

Finally there is silence
Full fat voluptuous silence
Except, except for the poem

poem by Sean Joyce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Silence and Peace and Morning Sun/ Are

WHERE SILENCE AND PEACE AND MORNING SUN /ARE

Where Silence and Peace and Morning Sun
are
There is the Poem.
Where Quiet of the Soul is
There, the Poem.

The Poem is the Love of Life
in the Gentle Day and the Quiet Night
of this small Jerusalem garden
I sit and write in now.

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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Can A Poem Bring Me Peace?

Can a poem bring me peace?
Can it silence for a short time
The deep doubt and uncertainties
That trouble my existence?
Can it take me away to its own calm mood,
And leave me singing inside happily?
Can a small poem bring me peace now
And let me rest
From the endless turmoil of my own agonizing mind?
Can I simply lie down in its words and sleep quietly with it?
Can a Poem bring me peace
Even if only for a small time 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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For All The Poets

FOR ALL THE POETS

This is a poem for all the poets who have no name,
For all those who have written and failed,
And for those who have not written,
And failed.

This is a poem for all the poets who dreamed themselves poets,
And were never, and will be known as poets
To the world.

This a poem for all those
Who after years of effort
Still live in an oblivion
They will die in.

This is a poem for all those
Who whether they have poetry in them or not,
Will never be heard or read,
For what their hearts must tell
Someone else.

This is a poem for all the silent poets
Those who live in silence
And whose silence is eternal
For all those whose only poetry
is the poem they have lived within themselves.

This is a poem for all those who would- be poets
And a poem for those
Who despite their efforts
Did not make their poem known.

This is a poem which may be for you,
And I know is for me
A confession
To make us less alone.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If In The Silence Of This Night

IF IN THE SILENCE OF THIS NIGHT

If in the silence of this night
I now hear a poem
And that poem brings joy
To all I am
And makes me believe
I have something to give again,
Then why should I not write this down
Even if I know
There are far far greater poems
Which in this world of so many things
Deserve attention
More than these words?

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
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The Poem About The Poem

The poem about the poem
And what is a poem?
And what is a poet?
And will the poem
Save me?
Help you?

And is writing the poem
The best I can do?
Or is it only words and more words?
Is the poem about the poem
For the poet only?
Or for each one reading and speaking and hearing it?

The poem about the poem
On this sunny spring Jerusalem morning
Peace and happiness in me -
The poem about the poem
For now.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wrote No Poem Today/ I Wrote No Poem Yesterday

I WROTE NO POEM TODAY/ I WROTE NO POEM YESTERDAY

I wrote no poem today-
I wrote no poem yesterday-
Will I write a poem tomorrow?
Perhaps all my lines are done-
And I must live out
The rest of my life
In silence-
God is Great
Am I a small small small voice still?

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Silence Of Nothing To Say

The silence of nothing to say
Is forcibly broken by the will for words
A poem is made not born
And there are nights when only determination can say anything-

I write now in the shadow of the night
When all the light is artificial
When inside me is only an empty emptiness
A quiet of nothing deep or beautiful –

I can make a poem out of nothing
But then it may be nothing too
Words alone are not enough
The truer poem comes out of something deeper I do not have now

Let the words play
Let the silence be broken
Let this night be written down
For the empty poem it is.

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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I Waited for the Silence

I waited for the Silence
Only then could I hear my own poem -
The Silence came and I began to write
Bu there were nonetheless small disturbing sounds
Which drowned the inner mood and melody-

I waited for the Silence again
And the Silence did not come
And the poem I wanted to hear
Was not in me -
So all I can do is write down what happened
As if this too were a poem
And the satisfaction of a need
Even if I cannot hear my own sounds.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Silence, Some Words

Today somewhere a mirror broke
And a music of end splashed in the pages of time,
Someone lost his meanings in the broken mirror..
And an unending silence flowed
Many things happen silently, , ,
How the silent weeping of the lost meaning wander in the depth of the night, , ,
I unveil the sea of darkness...i find only silence
And the music of the end keeps on splashing around
Life is all about some silence and some words…
Far away a poet was looking for words, .
And a poem was seeking for its understanding, ,
for the heart where words dwell with meanings, ,
As long as they both were away everything was all right...
And when they met, , ,
the poet lamented on the end of words of the poem, , ,
and the poem on the unending silence of the poet, , , , ,
poems are not about understanding....
poet is not about words, , , ,

poem by Aman Saa
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This Morning Has No Poem

THIS MORNING HAS NO POEM

This morning has no poem-
Reality-
Too many problems-
Too much to do-
Too much not to do-
Too much-

Yet somehow at some time during the day,
There will be a moment for thought,
There will be a time of peace in which to dream,
There will be a bit of silence and peace,

A poem.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poem The Poem And The Poem Again

THE POEM‘ THE POEM AND THE POEM AGAIN’

‘The poem the poem and the poem again’
Isn’t there any life without poetry?
Why is it always ‘The poem the poem the poem’?

Let it be some other dream
Or some other small facet of our endless realities
Why always ‘The poem the poem the poem? ’

The poet who lives and dies for the poem
Is only one kind of poet
And perhaps not even a good one.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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