What Poem Will The Night Lead Me To?
WHAT POEM WILL THE NIGHT LEAD ME TO?
What poem will the night lead me to?
The silence says ‘none’.
I remember too much
Inside I am afraid
I hear nothing but closed- in- ness
So much world waiting
And I cannot go there—
How much time is left for me
To delay away my life in?
I cannot do the work
I cannot save my own work
Of all that I have done
Little or none will remain
The stars say it does not matter
And all we are small we are will go away
But I here loving so much
Cannot say no forever yet
To my dreams-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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My Poem Came To Me In The Night
MY POEM CAME TO ME IN THE NIGHT
My poem came to me in the night
Long after I should have gone to sleep
It came with darkness inside and a fear of darkness deeper still-
It was a poem of the end of the earth
A dark poem
The last poem of the day and perhaps the last poem of forever-
It came to me in the night
And made me write it down gently
And said because there is no time left
It is impossible to add on to it
Or give it true character and feeling.-
The poem of the night and its darkness
Stilled me into vulnerable silence
And I slept and went to sleep
Far from the page I wrote.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Strive Against The Silence Of The Night
I STRIVE AGAINST THE SILENCE OF THE NIGHT
I strive against the silence of the night
Against my own inner emptiness
I wait to hear some song from inside myself -
Nothing is written.
I go back to where I am
And begin again.
There is always a poem if one is patient enough.
But what poem?
And for what special meaning of this night?
I write again and again
A poem which is about writing a poem
And when I come to end it
I question again and again
Whether it is real.
This night is already deep in darkness
And yet I have almost broken its silence
One more line
One more writing about writing a poem -
Perhaps Memory will come back to me
And I will write a more real poem
Than this strained effort now.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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What Could Have Been Unreal
there is a sorrow that i do not want to speak
it is something that i cannot give away
there is time that keeps on going and if i stay
i will just be left out and buried in this delay
there is a grief that cannot really be spoken
there is this pain that goes on and one
there are empty parks and empty cafes
there are closed doors and locked rooms
there is this self sometimes that does not open
there are fingers that remain closed upon themselves
there is a song that i can only sing inside myself
there is this poem that keeps on evading what is it that could have been said
all these are mine alone and all these keep me moving on
remembering, loving in silence, keeping the tears frozen, creating what could have been unreal.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poem
This poem is not addressed to you.
You may come into it briefly,
But no one will find you here, no one.
You will have changed before the poem will.
Even while you sit there, unmovable,
You have begun to vanish. And it does not matter.
The poem will go on without you.
It has the spurious glamor of certain voids.
It is not sad, really, only empty.
Once perhaps it was sad, no one knows why.
It prefers to remember nothing.
Nostalgias were peeled from it long ago.
Your type of beauty has no place here.
Night is the sky over this poem.
It is too black for stars.
And do not look for any illumination.
You neither can nor should understand what it means.
Listen, it comes with out guitar,
Neither in rags nor any purple fashion.
And there is nothing in it to comfort you.
Close your eyes, yawn. It will be over soon.
You will forge the poem, but not before
It has forgotten you. And it does not matter.
It has been most beautiful in its erasures.
O bleached mirrors! Oceans of the drowned!
Nor is one silence equal to another.
And it does not matter what you think.
This poem is not addressed to you.
poem by Donald Justice
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Lead Them Home My Dreams
Intro:
Lead them home
Lead them home my dreams,
My dreams
Verse 1:
Some people stand
Some choose not to understand
Some people fight (fight, fight)
Some people dream
Some people wake up
In the middle of the night
With the eyes of a tiger and a childs curiosity
Cant turn from my conscience when its starin at me
Chorus:
Lead them home
Lead them home my dreams
You can hear
When you disguise whispers as screams
(lead them home my, lead them home my...dreams)
Verse 2:
Some people climb
Some people wait for time to pass
Looking for a miracle (a miracle)
Some people could care less
Some people dwell on the impossible
And I always remember the times I let myself slide
And I put all the bad things like money
Far lower on the list than pride
Bring me home
Bring them home my dreams (lead the home)
Bring them home my dreams
(bring the home my, lead them home my)
You can hear, you can hear (you can hear)
When you disguise whispers as screams
(lead them home my, lead them home my)
Bring them home (bring them home, bring them home)
Bring them home my dreams
(lead them home my, bring them home my)
You can hear, you can hear when you
Disguise whispers as screams
(lead them home my, bring them home my...dreams)
Verse 3:
Wait a lifetime
Then my wish will drag on slowly
Come into ones own
At the time of conception (ooooo...)
Give in over time
You may as well change your mind
Now is when I see the light (I see it)
Im gonna touch it, grab it -
Make it mine.....
Bring them home.....
Bring them home.....
Lead them home (lead the home)
(bring them home my, lead the home my)
(lead the home, lead them home, lead them home)
Lead the home (lead them home)
Lead them home my dreams
(lead them home my, lead them home my)
Disguise whispers as screams - yeah!
Lead them home (lead them home)
Lead them home (lead them home)
Lead them home (lead them home)
Lead them home (ooooo...)
Lead them home
Lead them home my, my, my dreams.....
Lead them home my dreams
Bring them back to me
Lead them home my dreams
Oh-whoa-whoa-whoa.....
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem Especially For You
I write this poem,
Especially for you.
Hope you like it too.
I love this poem,
Hope you love it too,
Especially for you.
I love you so much that,
I Dream of you every night,
Especially be with you.
I write this poem,
Especially for you,
To remember your loving smile.
Give me your smile,
Give me your cheerful face,
Give me your Laughter.
Only this poem can,
Take your heart away.
Especially made for you.
I say this poem,
Especially designed for you,
In remembrance of our True friendship.
In this moment of life,
I share this poem
Especially with you.
In this precious memory,
I want you to know that,
I forever love you.
To say the right words,
At the right time;
Especially for you, is hard.
More than any right words,
I composed this poem,
Especially for you,
So that the world may know that
I fall in Love with you again.
Especially with you.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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An Evening Poem
AN EVENING POEM
An evening poem
Waits for deeper darkness
A night poem knows blackness
As home.
A morning poem is light
An afternoon poem is thick with heat.
All times have a poem
And all seasons poems also
All lives are poems
And all stories also.
We all are and all know poems
Poems pervade us
And the universe.
It is night now
But when the morning comes
Its poem will overshadow now.
What a brave new world it is
With so many poems in it
And what a life-
With such deep sadness
Waiting forever to be unexpressed.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Is There Time For A Poem?
Is there time for a poem
In a world of other sounds?
Is there time for a poem
When songs cannot be heard?
Is there time for a poem
In a time when fear is everywhere?
Is there time for a poem
When no one knows the way to help?
Is there time for a poem
In the darkest time, in the time of no way out?
Is there time for a poem
Any time a person alone
Cannot dare to breathe their own Name
Against the silence of the night?
2.
Is there time for a poem now
When all is so light and bright
There is nothing not even evil to fear
And all the world is singing and saying words of beauty?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
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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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Poetry Is Like A Beautiful Work Of Art
A poem has no write or
wrong,
How to write your poem
is up to you,
Visualize a perfect poem
That readers will love,
Adjust a poem as much as
you want,
Remember a poem is like
art,
You write it with meaning
and passion,
Add as much as your heart
desires,
Short or long it does not
matter,
Add a picture with your
poem,
Add a quote or a verse,
it is a poet's decision,
Always be proud of your poem,
Let the words flow when you
write,
A poem expresses a feeling,
thought and emotion,
Add a frame and hang it up
on a wall,
share your talents with the
world,
Poetry is like a beautiful
work of art.
poem by Derek James
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I Thought To Begin The Day With A Poem
I THOUGHT TO BEGIN THE DAY WITH A POEM
I thought to begin the day with a poem
But inside myself I hear only my own slow emptiness
Word by word I try to hear
And there is some small motion now
But still
A real poem
A poem of beauty
A poem of light
A poem of love
A poem that makes the dreamer long to dream-
And the lover long to love-
A poem that moves-
Well it is very very dark outside
And the world straining to give
Small rain to a dry land
Seems to say,
‘There may be a poem today
But it is not the poem you dream
Not the poem others will love
As you have loved
True poetry.’
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Remain inside
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????? ?? ??? ????? ?? ?? ???? ???? ????? ??
???? ?? ???? ?? ???? ?? ?? ???? ??????
?? ??? ?? ??? ?? ???? ???? ?? ???? ????
Neither have I liked to remain overjoyed
Nor like to remain permanently annoyed
Inside story must remain inside
What is use of telling it outside when she had already decided?
?? ????? ?? ?? ???? ??? ????? ?????
???? ???? ????? ????? ??? ????? ????? ????
?? ???? ???? ?????? ?? ?? ???? ?? ????? ???? ????
?????? ??? ?????? ???? ????? ????? ?????
I am surprised at why at all she decided to end?
Why was she interested all the time to spend?
Why did she continue when wanted to break the promises?
Why did she spend time unnecessarily to blame?
???? ????? ?? ???? ?? ??????
?? ?? ??? ??? ??? ???? ??????
???? ?? ???? ??? ?? ???
?? ?????? ??? ???? ???? ??????
She won't be in position to answer
I too won't come to know it for ever
I won't be able to forget her
Let whole pain remain with me forever
???? ?? ????? ?? ???? ????? ???? ??
???? ??? ?????? ????? ???? ?? ??? ?? ???? ??
????????? ???? ????? ?? ????? ????? ??? ? ??? ??
??? ?? ???? ???? ???? ??? ??? ??
Emergence of silver moon used to make her feel shy
She may even put had down for litttle try
She was like crimson rose with beautiful leaves
Night too as if had forgotten its darkness to live
????? ??? ?? ????? ?? ???? ?? ?? ????? ????? ?? ???? ??
???? ???? ?? ???? ??? ???? ?? ????? ?? ???? ??
?? ????? ?? ?? ??? ???? ?? ??? ??? ????? ???? ????
????? ??? ??????? ??? ?? ???? ???? ???? ????
I used to swim under magic spell when little air passed
Her talk also made me to loose control when teased
I felt that this memorable night will never end
Let lamps go off but light will not be allowed to send
?? ????? ??? ????? ??
?? ?? ????? ??? ?? ?? ??
?? ???? ??? ???? ????? ??
?? ????? ??? ?????? ?? ???? ?? ??? ? ??
This was wrong thinking on my part
She had already decided to part
She had high dreams and wanted palaces
I had only hut with little to show on such cases
??? ????? ??????? ???? ??? ??? ??? ??
???? ?????? ?? ??? ?? ????? ????? ??
?? ?? ??? ?????? ??? ????? ?????? ???? ??
???? ???? ?????? ?? ???? ?? ???? ???? ????? ???????
I was passionately waiting to hear
Her foot steps coming slowly near
We were certainly overshadowed by some one
She left me alone to remember everything about her one by one
????? ??? ???? ?? ??? ??? ?? ???? ??
???? ?????? ???? ?? ??? ????? ??
?? ?? ???? ?? ??? ???? ???? ???? ?? ????
????? ????? ?? ???? ??? ?????? ???? ????
Even though I have no wealth but beautiful heart
Always ready to take care from the very start
I could have made her happy
Preserved in shade of eyes without any worry
???? ???? ?? ??? ?? ???? ?? ?? ???? ???? ????
???? ???? ???? ?? ???? ???? ????? ?? ????
??? ?? ????? ?????? ?? ?????? ??? ???? ?? ???
???? ????? ?????? ???? ?? ???? ????? ???? ?? ???
I have no regret for her desertion
But unhappy over one thing that she did it without consultation
She should have afforded me something to remember whole life
Given some means to lead the life alone without her as wife
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Does The Night Have A Poem?
DOES THE NIGHT HAVE A POEM?
Does the Night have a poem?
Is there anything worth saying now?
To hear the Quiet is a kind of poem,
But I do not know-
The Night says the Wind now,
But is a small breeze enough
To make Heart and Mind
Come to Life again?
The Night is silent now
And Darkness is no answer either.
Night, Quiet, Sound, Light, Love,
The Beauty of simply being alive.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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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A Single Silence Forever
A SINGLE SILENCE FOREVER
I hear a poem in me
It comes suddenly
Like the lightning flash of fear
We cannot run away from
When darkness is our only memory.
.
Why we live and why we die
What we are and what we dream
All that means so much
And has been said so many times before
Again rehearses itself here
And I hear it and re-hear it and re- hear it again
Because I know and only I know who I am not and will never be.
The fading stars and the distant lines
The signals of another world so far from us we will never really be in
All that is beyond and without sense and without meaning
And which we will never understand
Speaks and cannot be heard.
I am trying to say I heard a poem in me
But what I truly heard
Was only the sound
Of who I am
A single silence forever upon the hidden ruins of time.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem Of The Night
The Poem of the Night
The poem of the night
is a quiet poem.
It listens only
to itself.
It calls no one;
It remains as it is
where it is,
waiting with the subtle light
which makes it mean
what Beauty does.
The Poem of the Night
is a quiet life
and a light of Love
Looking at God's world
and smiling at it-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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This Poem Is Not A Dream
THIS POEM IS NOT A DREAM
This poem is not a dream
It comes from where so many true poems come
From the other side of the mind
When it does not know peace -
From the waking desire
The hunger that is not satisfied
The lonely life and the lonely mind-
It comes from the search for love
And the love itself – the joy of love-
And from the memory of what we most deeply know when we are ourselves in love of another-
This poem is not a dream-
It comes from the waking world and the waking words-
The hard truths the bitter small things
The disappointments and rejections
The endless small humiliations which Time and Chance make of us all-
This poem comes from where we are most human
With the pain of those closest to us-
And our longing to save them and be loved forever by them-
The dream is not the poem
Life in its all its endless difficulties is the poem
And this poem too
Does not say half of all the hurt I have suffered in this one small day alone.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Is The Mood Of A Poem For This Night
THERE IS THE MOOD OF A POEM FOR THIS NIGHT
There is the mood of a poem for this night
There is the mood of a love from long ago
That is forever lost-
There is a mood of a too rainy and too cold night
There is a mood of more inside than saying can mean-
There is a mood of many things-
And all these moods are not one mood
And yet in me now largely indescribable-
For there is a mood which takes the person away
Into a land of dreams and beyond
And another mood and another poem
Which simply stays where it is
In longing for itself-
So while I have many moods
And may write many poems of those moods
I know that there is no mood tonight
Which is the one and only one love
I would always have-
And no mood which can say again
All that a person may have when young
And never know again in old age-
There is a mood of being forever sad and forever regretful-
But considering how much Beauty life has
And how many different ways there are of finding it
I will listen to the music of the light tonight
And hear the poetry of many great souls
And in a mood of joy
Quietly go to rest
As if happiness really were the mood beyond and within everything.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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God's Poets, Love & A Good Poem
GOD'S POETS
The prize jewels of any nation
Are the philosophers of the heart.
How they think is universal
For it's God who makes them so smart.
Most poets tell the truth of life
Though they may wrap it in beauty.
It's their passion, not their purpose
To compose is but their duty.
Poets have no reason to lie
When the truth is always so clear.
All that others say and do
Is but food for the poet's ear.
One merit of a poet's work
Which most cannot deny.
They say more and in fewer words
To illuminate you and I.
God sent His poets down to earth
With words of wisdom and of worth.
That they might touch the souls of men
And bring them back to Him again.
EVERY OTHER NIGHT
If it was left to me and my desire
I would seek satisfaction every other night.
I would enjoy your divine, God given love
And hold you forever close and tight.
Every other night would be Heavenly for me
Though I must respect and honor what you do and say.
My need for you is far greater than your need for me
As I patiently wait for our time of play.
I will always remain watchful, loving and caring
Not to hurt, destroy, mistrust, dissatisfy or offend.
Out of all God's blessings from Heaven to Earth
You're my greatest treasure, passion and friend.
A GOOD POEM
A good poem paints a picture
For both your heart and brain.
It doesn't need a second chance
To make its meaning plain.
A good poem is like the flower
The lily or the rose.
God plants it in a poet's brain
And there its beauty grows.
A good poem like a cardinal
Is pregnant with song
You can't help but hear its message
As it sings what's right or wrong.
A good poem helps us remember
What the joys of life are for
It makes us want to love someone
Till death comes knocking at our door.
Tom's 465 Poems Are Free To Share!
By God's Poet
Tom Zart
Most Published Poet
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Tom Zart www.internetvoicesradio.com/t_zart/