To Look At The World Again
TO LOOK AT THE WORLD AGAIN
To look at the world again
To see and name
Each kind of different thing
To surround it with words
And try to capture it
As it slips away
To paint in words
To write music
To make one vast description of ‘what is’ in words.
All these are unreal dreams
Someone else must realize-
I have my own small world of feelings
I return to again and again
My little universe of fears and loves.
Outside great and far beyond any nearness I can seem
The world goes on
While I can only
Write
Inside.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The World We See/ Is Far Too Vast For The Words We Have
THE WORLD WE SEE IS FAR TOO VAST FOR THE WORDS WE HAVE
The world we see is far too vast for the words we have-
Its beauties and delights move us in too many ways,
For us to write them down truly.
The world we see
Has its own Poetry -
And what we write
Touches upon this- merely.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Write The Songs
Ive been alive forever,
And I wrote the very first song.
I put the words and the melodies together,
I am music,
And I write the songs.
I write the songs that make the whole world sing.
I write the songs of love and special thing s.
I write the songs that make the young girls cry.
I write the songs, I write the songs.
My home lies deep within you,
And Ive got my own place in your sole.
Now, when I look out through your eyes,
Im youg again, even though Im very old.
Chorus
Oh my music makes you dance
And gives your spirit to take a chance,
And I wrote some rock n roll so you can move.
Music fills your heart,
Well, thats a real fine place to start.
Its from me its for you,
Its from you, its from me,
Its a world wide symphony.
Chorus
I am music, and I write the songs.
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The World Has Had Enough Of My Words
THE WORLD HAS HAD ENOUGH OF MY WORDS
The world has had enough of my words.
It didn’t care for them much anyway.
Let others come and write
A few of them will have the power and beauty
I have not.
The world has had enough of my words
And if I go on writing them
Let it be in knowing silence
That dare not disturb.
Let others do what I never could.
Perhaps there is still for some
Salvation in words.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Written By A Confessed Bipolar (her Name To Be Revealed Upon Her Permission)
I write because I can
I write because there are so many things to be written.
I write because I can make a painting without a brush and paints in my hand.
I write because I can capture the moment without having a camera.
I write because letters and words are the only recipe I know how to cook.
I write because I want to read what I’ve written.
I write because I’m used to speak in silence.
I write because I have a story to tell.
I write because I want to strip off my flesh and live as a pure being.
I write because I can record my “voice” without having a recorder.
I write because it’s like a cup of coffee, it keeps me awake
I write because I want to live even when I do not exist.
I write because this is my throwing stones when I’m frustrated.
6/11/09 at 4: 42 PM
I write because I can flaunt my being when I don’t have clothes to show off.
I write because this is like making an encyclopedia to a coloring book.
I write because it’s more effective than my lithium medication.
I write because I’m tired of carrying these baggages on the road.
I write because I’m tired of talking too much.
I write because it’s a healthier diversion than smoking.
I write because it’s more therapeutic than analyzing my problem.
I write because I want to paint a thousand pictures with words.
I write because I can put colors to the letters and make a rainbow of words.
I write because it’s the key combinations to my hidden vaults.
I write because my ball pen is my best friend in the darkest nights.
I write because it surprises me with what I am capable of thinking&doing. 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because I like that ideas are popping like pop corns.
I write because I can wander in the adventures of my own world.
I write because I have to cleanse my collection of memories of an old home.
I write because like a mirror you need to do a lot of reflections.
I write because I want to fight the battle of life.
I write because I wanted my little voice to be heard.
I write because I want to run from the insanities of the world.
I write because pictures don’t talk.
I write because it helps me connect the dots when I look back in my life.
I write because it brings me back to my crib of silence.
I write because it makes a buzz to other bees in my beehive.
I write because unlike my bike my destination is limitless.
I write because I want to become an inspiration without extinction 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because like strumming of the guitar, it vibrates in my soul.
I write because I love to write.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Have Lost My Way Again
I HAVE LOST MY WAY AGAIN
I have lost my way again
Soon I will find it with words-
My writing has saved me inside-
But in the world
It has not changed much.
I write these words
And already
Some peace and freedom
Return to me.
But what do they mean to you?
And why should they?
You have your own dreams to contend with
And your own life to make a mess of.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The World Goes On
THE WORLD GOES ON
The world goes on
Mighty rivers flow to the sea
Great things are done and undone
Across the universe stride colosses
Whose names all know.
I hide in some small corner of myself
Far away from everyone else
I dare not even look outside
I write and write and write and write.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poems Went Away
THE POEMS WENT AWAY
The poems went away.
Nothing inside.
An empty will for poetry
Forcing words on the page,
Words without music
Without resonance
Without great implication
Meaning.
Write, write, write
Lest you die.
And the words themselves
A kind of desperate uphill catching of breath
On the page.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In This World Of Infinite Words
IN THIS WORLD OF INFINITE WORDS
In this world of infinite words
So many poems have already been written,
Infinite poems in infinite words-
Therefore any new poem simply seems to cry out its own non- necessity-
Yet in a word in a voice
A whole world can be born and transformed-
A new poem a real poem
Can make us forget all the others
And make all the others live through it-
Yet who in this world of infinite words
Can write this poem?
And when will the next set of strangers names come
To show me that my words are nothing?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Words
I write there, and then you write they’re
I write who, and then you write whom
I misspell my words, too me you then curse
Then you call me a stupid loon.
You call me names, from which I refrain
Then I am off to a different room.
I forget punctuation's, It gives you frustrations
I don't use a contraction, you give me verbal action
Then I misspell a word, you call me absurd
I give you my silence it’s my only reaction.
You call me a name, my innocence I proclaim
My humility is seems, is your only satisfaction.
I sit at my typewriter, I still am a fighter
As I close my eyes, words still materialize
Words are my friends, rhyming is my sin
Maybe someday that, you will realize.
I finish another poem, to the world I show them
I write another verse, it becomes my universe.
You are my inspiration, my poems your creation
You correct what I write, it gives you such delight
You enjoy to respell, at words which you excel
You tell me they are wrong, I know you are right.
But you still are my friend, I hope it will never end
I am the poet, your a wordsmith and you show it.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I write from a world
I write from a world
~
I write from a world
Of thought and feeling
A world of observation
There to be picked at
There to be used as need be
Whenever or however
It suits me to do so
I write to stave off madness
To save my tongue
From speaking ill words
I write in metaphor
To disguise such things
I am not freely open to discuss
Things better left unsaid
But which stew in the mind
And need to be let out
Other things I write in celebration
To share my joy with all
And all in this world
Shall read or hear that written
From a world of thought
Of feeling and observation
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Author's Inspiration
My fingers do not type the words on the page; they do not draw delusions on a thin piece of white lined paper. They are not meant for the works of art to be used and unworthy for. My fingers are worthy enough to paint pictures inside your cognizance, more than painting a paintless sheet that means nothing to me. My fingers work as if every picture I paint in my mind, inspires them to write the unwritten page, to make it a master piece. But not every inspiration inside my mind, will take merely a second to create. It takes time, patience, and art to smear the writings onto a page. Author inspiration is from what comes from the heart; deep and dark, inspring and light - it's as if it was left inside its cage. No freedom, no light, no darkness, no being of a creature that the render of the paper, simply gave up on inspiring the little ones'. It's as if this mere creature was left within a white blank world. No colors to paint, no words to express. An author inspiration is formed when they see or hear other works of art, whether it's music to their ears, movies they wish to be in, life and feelings that they feel or positioned in, or other writings that they write something else about - but as an inspiration from them. An inspiration can be from anything from the outside world, from what happens inside one's life, to what creates such imagination within one's thoughts that coats the page with color and creativity. Anyone can be talented. Anyone can have an inspiration. You just have to feel and be it.
poem by Alicia Meyers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Inspiration..
Inspiration comes and goes.
I write it down or I’ll forget while searching for a pen.
Inspiration comes and goes.
I get is from dreams or experiences.
Inspiration comes and goes.
But tell me, what inspires you.
I’m inspired by beauty, love and lust.
Giving me words and thought I dare to trust.
It’s inspiration that separates me from the rest.
‘Cause when inspiration comes words fall into place.
And things are beginning to make sense.
Sometimes I’m inspired by sorrow.
When I’m waiting in my bed for tomorrow.
And words start to become sentences.
I will start to write just to understand.
And to make me feel better so I can go to bed again.
Sometimes I write because of a pain that runs so deep.
I write cryptic lyrics about the secrets I keep.
I express them in other words so no one will understand.
But they feel not knowing what I’m trying to tell.
It’s a just way to clear my conscience.
Sometimes I write how the world could be.
Or I write about the girl of my fantasy.
Then I’m inspired by a fragment of my imagination.
And now I told a few ways where I get my inspiration.
So now tell me what inspires you.
poem by Rick Adriolo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Master Of The Word
He writes with his feelings
Integrity in ever word
His poems make you think
About the why's in this world
As you read each one
You think
Been there done that before
But alas I can not say
Much about the wars
His eyes has seen
So much strife
Something I've yet to learn
I suppose I can say honestly
He's a true master with words
Respectfully I say to thee
Keep up the words you speak
I seam to be learning more
Of the world we paint with pens
With heart felt respect
I say to thee master of the words
His name is Eric Crockell
A true poet of the world
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Had No Poem /I Had Nothing In Mind
I HAD NO POEM
I had no Poem
I had nothing in mind
Darkness in the world
Darkness inside.
I tried to think
I could not write
Darkness in the world
Darkness inside.
I repeated my theme
Again and again
Darkness in the world
Silence, no friend.
I try and I try
I need to write
A Poem is for me
A sign of Life.
What will be?
Will I ever know?
I write these words
Dawn so slow.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I want to write
I want to write, something nice, but nothing comes to mind. Today words are unkind and will not come out from where they normally hide.
Today I want to write, write something nice, and make someone smile, to look forward to a lovely day and an even more an exciting night.
Words of the powerful mind, tell me where you hide, where in the world can I find, find you to create a masterpiece, burn paper with ink, write till I no more blink, as you take me to a place of so many tears, peaceful sleeps, sorrow, happiness, and enchanted dreams…
I want to write, something nice, but nothing comes to mind. Words have deserted me, why are they so unkind and will not come out from where they normally hide…
poem by Thato Maluleka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A World Of My Own
When I write I go into
a world of my own.
My concentration is so strong
the rest of the world around me
just doesn’t belong.
The rest of the world vanishes
when my writing takes control
and I slip into a world of my own.
I only see the writing in front of me
everything else gets ignored.
My hearing does not detect
the voices surrounding me
when I drift into
a world of my own.
It is as though I’m hypnotised
by the words that I write
and all else never matters
disappearing out of sight
whenever I enter into
a world of my own.
27 September 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm feeling all alone
I've always said this is a big big world
And now I'm lost in this world
Lost feeling...
Lost love...
Lost and confused,
Even broken and used.
Lost everything for love
I'm so lost
Im dying inside
When trus is lost, how can things,
move forward?
I'm feeling all alone
I'm lost in my feelings
I'm lost in everything.
I los him...
I los his heart.
Wanted to write a poem
But lost the words
I've lost everything and I don't,
Know why.
I'm lost in this world
My mind is lost
I cant seem to trust anyone
Thoughts of nothing
No dreams or goals
I'm lost in this world.
poem by Maria Luisa Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Do Not Have...
you do not have to
read me
for me to become
another poet
i am
and i can be
and i will be
even without you
and you are
and you can be
and you shall be
even without me
i am a poet
because i have decided to write the poems
and the poem shall be there forever
until the right reader comes along
the one who loves
a poem even without me
even without you
even without the world
this poem and that poem shall be
even without us
for these are words
and words shall be words even without the world
for it was the word which came first
and shall remain
till eternity.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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