There Is No Way Out
THERE IS NO WAY OUT
There is no way out
There will never be a way out
Despair is the final word.
Even these words know
They are not really a poem
And all this writing
Is the simple plain stupid foolish idiotic ranting
Of one who never made it
And despite a lifetime of opportunity
Never will.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Autobiograpical Poem
I am a simple poem,
It's plain for all to see.
No haiku, limerick or sonnet,
Just simple rhyme for me.
I'm on my second verse just now,
So soon it will be three.
Uncomplicated, very plain,
So easy, Oh! so free.
There are no causes I espouse,
For nothing I campaign,
I do not speak of love or lust,
I never speak of pain.
Some people say that I'm just words,
They don't know how I thrive.
I tell them I am born each day,
I'm very much alive.
I'm winding down towards the end,
Just another verse to go,
I've avoided all controversy,
I just went with the flow.
So here I am, sixth verse at last,
It's still plain for all to see
That if you keep it simple
You'd be a poem just like me!
poem by Joe Hughes
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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
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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
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Life Art
Life Art
I want to write you a poem.
One that contains no verses
no words
how long it will be
I cannot tell.
It will be a poem that you can see through
yet it will shade you from the sun
a simple lyric
as complex as a crossword
I want it to be something
that you carry through your day
every day
I don’t know if I can write that poem
Or if indeed that poem can be written at all
So instead I am with you
Of you
And slowly together
we are writing our very own poem
Not on a page
Or in a lost notebook
But in the café
and in the street
At a table
In our bed
Every day we add another line
another image
another verse
and I know that with every word that we write
I want it to be the longest poem
That has ever been written.
poem by Andy Houlihan
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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
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Not The Poem Then
NOT THE POEM THEN
Not the poem then
Although it can be the poem
Writing
Simply writing
This is the duty and the meaning
And the release from meaninglessness
And the ‘enabling me to go on’
The poem is only one form of it
It is the writing which matters
My life has been this
This writing
Even if it is a poor poem now
As I write these words
I live.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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This Poem Came To Me
THIS POEM CAME TO ME
This poem came to me
After I had woken.
It came slowly
It came in simple words
It came without knowing beforehand
What it was and how it should be.
This poem came to me
As I wrote again
To myself and for myself
The simple truth
That far away
There is someone else
Who is a real writer
And a true poet.
While I grope my way through my life
Wondering
How I have given so much time to Writing
And never really done it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Stupid To Believe
Im so stupid to believe
That you actually liked me
Im so stupid to believe
That you actually wanted to be with me
Im so stupid to believe
All those words you said to me
Im so stupid to believe
That we'd last forever
Im so stupid to believe
That you still had feelings for me
Im so stupid to believe
That you'd actually take me back
And most of all
Im so stupid to believe
That i would never care enough
to be heartbroken again
But here i am
Writing this poem
You never liked me
You never wanted to be with me
We'd never last forever
You'd never take me back
And i'll always be heartbroken
poem by Taylor Renae Smith
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Despair Of The Early Morning
DESPAIR OF THE EARLY MORNING
Despair of the early morning
Despair of the darkness
Despair of the Despair
Despair of Old Age
Despair of the road closed
Despair of nothing to do
Despair of nowhere to go
Despair of endless errands
Despair of money running out
Despair of the message of Despair
One transmits to those one loves.
Despair that has to be resisted
Despair that the light of the day
Will help me overcome
Despair I will pray my way out of
Despair I will in the course of the day
Sometime overcome.
Not the great Despair
The unending Despair
The final Despair.
The small Despair of who I am and where I am now.
The Despair that still can be resisted,
By the writing of a few awkward lines
Early in the morning.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Am Stupid To Believe
Im so stupid to believe
That you actually liked me
Im so stupid to believe
That you actually wanted to be with me
Im so stupid to believe
All those words you said to me
Im so stupid to believe
That we'd last forever
Im so stupid to believe
That you still had feelings for me
Im so stupid to believe
That you'd actually take me back
And most of all
Im so stupid to believe
That i would never care enough
to be heartbroken again
But here i am
Writing this poem
You never liked me
You never wanted to be with me
We'd never last forever
You'd never take me back
And i'll always be heartbroken!
poem by Taylor Dumm
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A Ode Poem To You
My mother gave me an ode poem, oh how I love that poem
The scene of her perfume on it, the picture of me in her arms
This letter I keep with me all the time, I love it so much I sleep with it under my pillow
To her nice hand writing, to the black ink she wrote in, she wrote until her ink went low
My poem is great, my poem is wonderful, to the white paper she wrote on it’s beautiful
To the green words of the title, my poem she gave me is the best
I love how she gave the lip stick print on the top of my poem, sad to say she's at rest
I will always love the poem she gave to me before she passed
To the words in the poem she gave me will always endure
Word by word my lovely poem is speaking to me gratefully
This ode poem was from my mom and for only me sincerely
I love my poem, oh how wonderful it can be
Its so wonderful do you want to read,
Take a look, take a look and you will see
poem by Twilight Simmons
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There Is No Poem To Begin The Week With
THERE IS NO POEM TO BEGIN THE WEEK WITH
There is no poem to begin the week with
Emptiness is the beginning
I try to think
I try to listen to some internal rhythm
I write words down
My thoughts are simple and self- referential
The green- yellow light is there outside my window
The world is moving
Am I writing a poem or simply writing whatever sentences come into my mind?
I sometimes think poetry never stops being written within me
At other times I believe I am just ambitious and pretentious
Today this is the beginning
These lines these words
A poem to begin the week with?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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If I Lose The Poem
IF I LOSE THE POEM
If I lose the Poem
I will lose myself-
Words will be too difficult for me
I will wander in the world useless -
True, one day I will not be.
But for now
And for as long as possible
I need the Poem.
If I lose the Poem
I will cease to be
And all the Poetry that has been in me
Will also seem lost.
I waver and wonder
As I write
These plain and simple words.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
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They Say It Is My Brain That Is Writing This Poem
THEY SAY IT IS MY BRAIN THAT IS WRITING THIS POEM
They say it is my brain that it is writing this poem-
They can see areas of it shutting down
And others lighting up more intensely,
As the words come down-
But I know it is me who is writing this poem
And my brain is only ‘part' of who I am
Whatever that means.
I am writing this poem
And you are reading it
And we are human beings
Aren't we?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I'm board
A poem is being written,
I'm writing it because I'm board.
You shouldn't awe-stricken,
in fact this poem should be ignored.
This poem has no purpose,
other than to waste time.
Like the word carboxymethecellulose,
or the word cryptocrystalline.
I could probably do something more interesting,
as I'm just screwing around.
Though writing a poem is quite addicting,
and a better waste of time could not be found.
poem by John Gleeson
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The Poem I Did Not Write Today
THE POEM I DID NOT WRITE TODAY
The poem I did not write today
Will never be written.
No one knows what it is
Or where it is
'How it can be? ' is another question
No one can answer.
The poem I did not write today
Never went away
It is always here with me and with you
It is the same simple poem
Written over and over again
In our everyday minds.
It is the poem of love of life
The poem of happiness
The poem of belief in God
And in the goodness in the world to come
It is the poem which believes too that poetry will help save the world.
It is the good poem
The happy poem
The poem I did not write today
Is the poem my life is writing now and always
And with you it says
‘What a miracle it is that we are here
reading and writing
and loving life as we do’.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Without A Poem/ I Am Lost
WITHOUT A POEM/ I AM LOST
Without a poem
I am lost.
Without writing
I do not exist.
This is the foolish life
I have made for myself.
Other people know how to be
Without poetry.
I do not.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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All The Lines Of Despair
ALL THE LINES OF DESPAIR
All the lines of despair
Are only a game to me.
In my heart always
Is the joy
Of writing the words down.
Every poem is happiness to me
When I write I am free.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Hiding Emotion in Metaphors
I'm sitting here wondering
can i hide my emotion through words
writing in metaphors
when really its all plain
I'm broken
easy enough to say
but what does it mean
I'm in pieces
i don't work anymore
I'm broken
who says that to explain emotion
except a poet
finding metaphor for emotion
does it mean I'm sad, yes
does it mean I'm torn, yes
what does torn mean
torn like an old rug
torn like a dollar bill
ripped to shreds, broken
who needs a metaphor to explain emotion
when its laid out in front of everyone
my eyes are swollen
my body is bruised
my words are silent
my smile is fake
its all plain and simple
laid out like a flashing sign
i am broken
even though my emotions are plain
i still have to explain through metaphors
because people don't look for a simple answer
they look for the secrets people tell
is she holding back tears
is her smile today real
I'm broken
but people don't look to see me
they look to find emotion
encoded in this poem
hiding my feelings
in this metaphorical language
because people don't look
i am broken
poem by Audrey Marie Kay
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