A Squall A Fit A Draft A Temptest
Those love poems I write, I don't
know who they're for any more
than I know the next direction
this wind will take,
nor how the raked leaves'll
receive them,
but I'd rather be anywhere else,
in an instant leave when
each squall I fail to repress
and forget, each unrequited tempest
for every lyric's unwitting subject, slips.
poem by Zachary Sharp
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Poems About.
There are poems that you will never see
Marked in a folder titled 'privacy'
Poems of hate and anger and personal pain
Poems about greed and hunger and personal gain
Poems about people I would love to see dead
Poems about women I met
Poems about relationships that have gone bad
Poems about issues with mom and dad
Poems about me, the person no one knows
Poems about places where only my soul goes
Poems I wish I could place in the clouds for all to read
Poems about lust, selfishness and greed
Poems I know will hurt those I hate
Poems I write by complete mistake
Poems I have hidden in my heart and my head
Poems about things that are better left unsaid
Poems I want to share and poems I want to retract
Poems of shame and how others might act
They stay in my psyche, they are a part of me
These poems I write, but you will never see.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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It Call All End In An Instant
IT CAN ALL END IN AN INSTANT
It could all end in an instant-
From a direction we never thought of,
All that we have taken for granted
Can disappear,
And leave us in longing for small ordinary things
Which once meant next to nothing to us-
It can come from within ourselves,
Or from without-
At my age I have seen it happen to many-
One day they are walking around alright
And the next day they are never alright again-
I fear
It can all end in an instant
And there is no way to make certain it won't.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Oh The Poems
OH THE POEMS AND THE POEMS AND THE POEMS
Oh the poems and the poems and the poems
Oh the love of Literature
Oh all that stuff
I have given my life to-
Words and meanings and feelings
Pages and pages and pages –
What it is all this literary life for?
When out the window out the door
With our eyes we see in an instant other worlds other dreams?
I don’t know and I will never know
And Literature is certainly far more than I can say it is-
Oh the poems and this poem and this day turning grey
And all my life old and old and more old and more old-
Oh why oh why oh why
And always back to God
My last rescue and refuge and escape
I who have read so much Great Literature
And can only write this-
Oh the why and the oh oh oh and the words
And the whole world of Literature
I would belong to and do not.
Oh the words oh the world oh the Literature
Oh God help me please can’t you please help me a little or not?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I don't write poems
I don't write poems,
I drink them like wine,
I become tipsy
with each coming line.
I don't write poems,
I breathe them like air,
I become so happy
when each one I share.
I don't write poems,
I live with them;
they prolong my years,
they are as true as I am.
I don't write poems,
I weave into verses
sadness, joy, tears,
prayers, love, curses…
My poems talk and sing,
Sense of living they bring.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
26th of April,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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So Many Poets
so many poets
so many poems
all popping up like mushrooms after the lightning and thunder
no one comes to see
no one comes to say the mushrooms are not so white not so good
so many poems
so many poets
the readers are few, the readers are lesser
but what can you do?
what do you expect?
well, i am just writing my diary, and i am the reader who reads it myself
to ease this pain,
to let myself know that with all my unrequited loves, i still dare to write
and exist.
and i don't really care.
so many poets
look at these poems
they all look and sound the same
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The History Poems Have Not Been Written
The history poems have not been written
The poems after Milosz
The Wallace Stevens poems will never be written
I can’t come close
I have tried the Blake poems
But of course I am not near them either
I would like to the ironic intellectual poems
I might be able to do them
I could do a kind of surrealistic association mind poem a prose poem
But I don’t like that very much
The poems of Jerusalem have not been good enough
Poems of propaganda are awkward and unacceptable
The small poems that tell of my life
They are for me the chance at real poetry
And I will continue as best I can with them
The American poems I have not yet found the idiom for
I can be epigrammatic in Emerson Thoreau fashion
But not with the hard New England observing eye
Borges poems I love
And the stories of mind and literature
Making the drama of a life of a storyteller
Interest me
But I doubt I could truly do them well
Imitation can only take one so far
And through it one may lose one’s way entirely
I can really do only what I am
Not the Dickinson poems nor the Hopkins poems nor the Wordsworth poems nor the Keats poems nor the Amichai poems nor the poems of many others whose poetry I love
The Biblical poems have been tried
The poems of cosmic and scientific reflection
I could try to improve them
There are too many different kinds of poems to write
And I cannot write almost all of them
This is another poem about poems and poetry
I have written many for a long time now
Perhaps I need to go elsewhere and write in a new way
A way I have not dreamed or even remotely understood possible before.
The poems of the unknown poetry await me
I will go on but I am not sure now I know in which wa
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Condemnation
i am condemned to write
without end
because you never loved me
because i never confessed it to you
because if i confess it to you
you shall condemn love in return
vomit all its contents before my face
and love does look like love anymore
i am condemned to write and many shall read
because of pity
i never wanted to be pitied
i have my own dignity.
i shall be writing forever
about love
unrequited, and the world shall know
about a pain without end.
i shall find hope in reincarnation.
i shall be a tree with shiny leaves.
you shall take shade.
i shall be the bed where you shall sleep
the nights of your lifetime.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lyrics Of Life
In the song of life, all lyrics need a melody.
You are the lyric and you are the melody.
You are the lyric of my heart and of my soul.
The beauty of the rose, speaks a lyric of love.
Love, speaks a lyric of you.
The silent lyric of goodness, echoes from within you.
My heart, speaks the lyric of love...to only you.
Let the words...the lyric...that bind, pass between us.
Let the lyric, of you...of me...be as one.
A million words I can speak of you and the lyrics
would be the same...I love you now. I always will
poem by Waldon Pond Productions
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I Hear A Song...
In the song of life, all lyrics need a melody.
You are the lyric and you are the melody.
You are the lyric of my heart and of my soul.
The beauty of the rose, speaks a lyric of love.
Love, speaks a lyric of you.
The silent lyric of goodness, echoes from within you.
My heart, speaks the lyric of love...to only you.
Let the words...the lyric...that bind, pass between us.
Let the lyric, of you...of me...be as one.
A million words I can speak of you and the lyrics
would be the same...I love you now. I always will
Lyrics Of Life
In the song of life, all lyrics need a melody.
You are the lyric and you are the melody.
You are the lyric of my heart and of my soul.
The beauty of the rose, speaks a lyric of love.
Love, speaks a lyric of you.
The silent lyric of goodness, echoes from within you.
My heart, speaks the lyric of love...to only you.
Let the words...the lyric...that bind, pass between us.
Let the lyric, of you...of me...be as one.
A million words I can speak of you and the lyrics
would be the same...I love you now. I always will
Sing Me A Love Song...
In the song of life, all lyrics need a melody.
You are the lyric and you are the melody.
You are the lyric of my heart and of my soul.
The beauty of the rose, speaks a lyric of love.
Love, speaks a lyric of you.
The silent lyric of goodness, echoes from within you.
My heart, speaks the lyric of love...to only you.
Let the words...the lyric...that bind, pass between us.
Let the lyric, of you...of me...be as one.
A million words I can speak of you and the lyrics
would be the same...I love you now. I always will
Life And Lyrics
In the song of life, all lyrics need a melody.
You are the lyric and you are the melody.
You are the lyric of my heart and of my soul.
The beauty of the rose, speaks a lyric of love.
Love, speaks a lyric of you.
The silent lyric of goodness, echoes from within you.
My heart, speaks the lyric of love...to only you.
Let the words...the lyric...that bind, pass between us.
Let the lyric, of you...of me...be as one.
A million words I can speak of you and the lyrics
would be the same...I love you now. I always will.
My Song Is You...
In the song of life, all lyrics need a melody.
You are the lyric and you are the melody.
You are the lyric of my heart and of my soul.
The beauty of the rose, speaks a lyric of love.
Love, speaks a lyric of you.
The silent lyric of goodness, echoes from within you.
My heart, speaks the lyric of love...to only you.
Let the words...the lyric...that bind, pass between us.
Let the lyric, of you...of me...be as one.
A million words I can speak of you and the lyrics
would be the same...I love you now. I always will
MY Heart Sings...
In the song of life, all lyrics need a melody.
You are the lyric and you are the melody.
You are the lyric of my heart and of my soul.
The beauty of the rose, speaks a lyric of love.
Love, speaks a lyric of you.
The silent lyric of goodness, echoes from within you.
My heart, speaks the lyric of love...to only you.
Let the words...the lyric...that bind, pass between us.
Let the lyric, of you...of me...be as one.
A million words I can speak of you and the lyrics
would be the same...I love you now. I always will
Lyrics Of Life
In the song of life, all lyrics need a melody.
You are the lyric and you are the melody.
You are the lyric of my heart and of my soul.
The beauty of the rose, speaks a lyric of love.
Love, speaks a lyric of you.
The silent lyric of goodness, echoes from within you.
My heart, speaks the lyric of love...to only you.
Let the words...the lyric...that bind, pass between us.
Let the lyric, of you...of me...be as one.
A million words I can speak of you and the lyrics
would be the same...I love you now. I always will
We Need New Poems
WE NEED NEW POEMS
We need new Poems-
So many great Poems
Have already been written.
Perhaps the Greatest poems
Have already been written.
But we need new poems.
We need our Poems
We need the poems only we can write
We need the poems we must write.
We need new poems
My poems
Your poems
Our poems.
We need new poems.
Let us write them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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On A Continual And Daily Basis
Deceits fed are no different,
In the keeping of delusions alive...
Than mentally abusing someone,
On a continual and daily basis.
To leave the one abused and in needing,
Instilled with beliefs they are chosen this way...
To receive this expression,
Of unrequited love.
And they will remain without complaint,
Since this is the only love they have ever known.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Juggling...
emptiness like
instant time
a word by mouth
in a second
the lips receive
the comfort
like instant milk
on chili gum
sadness comes
there is a welcome
time forbids
a communion
sorrow lives beneath
the armpit
there is an itch
a discomfort but
it will not be for long
there is always a departure
you have seen her face
sadness is beautiful
loneliness creates meaning
poems come forth like
flowers opening in spring
like sunlight bursting early morning
rivers have songs
birds in circus dance
the clouds make the show
of stories
there are too many now
for the juggle
how can life be so
dry? unless you have only sands
welcome the rain
forget the sprain...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It Is Time To Write Another Kind Of Poetry
IS TIME TO WRITE ANOTHER KIND OF POETRY
It is time to write another kind of poetry-
To leave behind the self-reflection
The poems on the poet the poem and the poetry -
It is time to rediscover that the world is rich in unsaid dreams
And the poet must see too the beauty of what has been unsaid before
And what has been said many times before -
It is time to write another kind of poetry
And to leave myself as poet subject behind-
I have not yet done this here
But tomorrow and the next day perhaps
There will be other worlds.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sonnet: The Wind
What shakes the trees so violently? ’Tis Wind;
What moves the clouds hither/ thither? ’Tis Wind;
What takes the tornado around? ’Tis Wind;
What brings the sandstorm on the earth? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the cool and gentle breeze? ’Tis Wind
What makes the boughs and leaves to dance? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the autumn leaves to fall? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the honey-bees to fly? ’Tis Wind.
What makes pollen reach in showers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the dust to climb towers? ’Tis Wind;
What spreads the perfume of flowers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the rain-clouds advance far? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the Wind to blow? ’Tis God;
What makes a Tempest stop? ’ Tis our Lord.
7-18-2001
poem by John Celes
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