London Airport
Last night in London Airport
I saw a wooden bin
labelled UNWANTED LITERATURE
IS TO BE PLACED HEREIN.
So I wrote a poem
and popped it in.
poem by Christopher Logue

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They Call It Gentle and Smile
The Sun wrote a poem
That is morning
The Moon wrote a poem
That is evening
I wrote a poem
That is love
You wrote a poem on your lips
They fondly call it gentle and smile
poem by Kavin Charalan

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A Poem
i wrote you a poem,
that stood naked on
your doorstep,
but you didnt notice...
so i wrote you a poem,
that bled on your kitchen floor,
yet the mop stood untouched
in the corner!
i wrote you a poem,
that set itself on fire
in your bedroom,
and you opened the window.
so i wrote you a poem,
from the land of death...
your tears only an echo,
that couldnt touch...
couldnt taste, couldnt feel...
will you write me a poem?
poem by Eric Cockrell

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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 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

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I Weep I Weep - For The Lost Poem!
I weep I weep - for the lost poem!
I wrote it in the night
I wrote it in despair
When to my beating mind
There was no light.
I lament for the lost poem!
Was it torn? If no, where lies it?
I wrote it in despair
And now like a lost sheep
I fetch it.
How time passes!
How the black hair
To more graying hair
Will turn!
And in the meantime
My poem my lost poem
I rue.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

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The poem
I wrote a poem that didn't
ryhme,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme to the one I love,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme to the one I love
more than life,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme to the one I love more than life,
of which she did more than like,
the poem was short,
repeated myself alot,
but the one I loved more than life,
felt that love is like the poem I wrote,
full of joy and full of hurt,
the poem I wrote when I was full of hype,
coz the one I loved more than life is the one that now fills in my life all gaps,
the one that brings me up when am down,
a smile on my face from a frown,
music to my ears when we talk,
love in my heart when I'm near,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme for the one I love more than life.
poem by Kennedy Musyoka

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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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A Not a Poem Poem
A Not a Poem Poem
I will not write a poem
For I am not a poet
I cannot makes things rhyme
I’ve tried for quite some time
So will I write a poem?
NO!
I can’t write poetry
I’ve tried to all my life
Once, I tried to write a poem
About a husband and his wife
It sounded really silly
So I crumbled it up into a ball
That’s why I decided
That I couldn’t write poetry at all
Am I gonna write a poem?
NO!
Well, I’ll try to write a poem
But it will be really bad
It will be absolutely lousy
It will be completely horrible
It won’t be up to snuff
People will say, “Who wrote this stuff? ”
Will my poem be good?
NO!
Can I write a poem?
NO!
Will I write a poem?
NO!
Well, what do you know! ? !
I wrote a poem!
And it’s a pretty good poem, too!
I guess I can write poetry if I try
The next time I’m asked to write a poem,
Will I say no?
NO!
The Poem I Wrote/ As I Walked To Shul At Night
THE POEM I WROTE/ AS I WALKED TO SHUL AT NIGHT
The Poem I wrote
As I walked to Shul at night
Was the prayer that God
would help us survive and thrive
in this dark and difficult region
where Death and Destruction
are Demanded Daily
by those who would rather kill us
than love their own lives.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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London
It was november 4th
I last held your hand
It seemed our time would last forever
You said dont ever leave
I thought youd never go
I wish I could just remember your name...
Youre just a memory now
Like all the ones before
But with your pain Ive had to suffer
Your eyes alight with flame
As the picture burns
I hear the screams from long ago
They cry remember, blood-red streaks on
Velvet throats at night
The streetlights fanned our trail of fame
Through
London london
The memories will never leave me
London london
All I see is you
London london
The cries in the night
Keep bringing me to
London london
Calling out to me
Oh theres some things in life I could never face
The worst is being alone
Sometimes I wish I could have taken your
Place my love
You know I dont want to live forever
Oh let me see you standing in the
Shadows once again
Well walk the streets like long ago in
London london
The fire in your eyes will be bringing me to
London london
All I need is you
The cries in the night keep ringing on in
London london
Calling out to you
song performed by by Queensryche

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Wrote A Poem Today
I WROTE A POEM TODAY
I wrote a poem today
I wrote a poem yesterday
Will I write a poem tomorrow?
poem by Shalom Freedman

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I Wrote This Poem And That Poem And Another Poem Again
I WROTE THIS POEM AND THAT POEM AND ANOTHER POEM AGAIN
I wrote this poem and that poem and another poem again
The world of poetry was open to me
And I could go on and on in it
It was a dream come true
A world which opened when I moved through it
A place I wanted to be
A place of beauty and peace and spirit and imagination
A good good place
The world of poetry was open to me
And as I wrote my way through it
I felt God had given me a gift of life
And I should at least know enough to be grateful for it-
poem by Shalom Freedman

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This Is My Poem
This is my poem of ______. (date)
This is my poem, written by myself.
This is my first poem never written.
This is my last poem now to be written.
This is the poem I would have written
if I had lived yesterday what I lived today.
This is my poem changing white light
into gold-leaf
and blue into violet.
This is my poem like a heaven twisting
and turning inside of me
all night long.
This is my poem of opening a window
to show what was always inside.
This is my poem encompassing everything
hope can bestow or chance agree with.
This is my poem of open-ended freedom.
This is my poem breathing life into motion.
This is my poem written as I wrote it
a living being.
And this is my poem ending;
but only for today..
poem by Patti Masterman

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I Wanted A Poem For The Morning
I wanted a poem for the morning
A poem to begin the day with-
A poem which would give my life hope -
I wanted a poem
Which would say I am alive
A good poem a kind poem
A poem which would make others a bit more happy-
And as so often
I wrote a poem
And left it as a question for the longer daylight and
the longer night which also is our life
beyond the morning-
poem by Shalom Freedman

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I Wrote A Nonsense Poem
I WROTE A NONSENSE POEM
I wrote a nonsense poem
It said a nonsense thing
Yesterday is not today
And winter is not spring.
I wrote a nonsense poem
It didn’t have a name
It began and so fast finished
No wonder I’m ashamed.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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J'adore the underground
Underground,
London is awake, the city is moving,
Business is created.
underground,
Love is in the air,
Children are born, one up, one down
London is buzzing.
Underground, underground,
People meet, chat, laugh,
Get acquainted, start walking
Passion is created.
Underground, underground
Take me around, show me all the places
That I haven’t found.
Underground, take me to the airport
London is connected.
Underground, underground
Modern technology, old wisdom
Schools are open, universities are visited.
Underground, take me home, mind the gap,
you keep moving all seasons.
Underground without you, London is like sun without ammunition.
You keep London moving, motivated.
Underground, underground
J'adore you.
poem by Lucia Domingos Fula

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The Poem I Wrote The Other Day
The Poem I Wrote The Other Day
The Poem I wrote the other day
has already gone away.
The Poem that I am writing now
will last until a different 'now'.
And all I write
And all I be,
eternal
as my memory.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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A City Sounding like An Airport
trust degree zero for security reasons
one after another one after another one after another through a wind of change through spied eyes
grace under airport-spirited sensation
immigration of free souls
custom channels of suspicious looks
living under the same sky
reality can be touched by scientific imagination
poetry of lost trust
poetry of uncertainty
poetry of freedom
an airport sounding like a city
a city sound like an airport
a voyager of a multi-faceted poem
A statement about art & friendship
It is the friendship that she carries well
On summer day
In the writing workshop
She wins their hearts
When she is asked to read her poems
Or say, show her masterpiece
She merely smiles
Her friendship is her piece her only masterpiece
Her smile is her only word written on
Her face
And they all say it is enough
A smile can save the world
But I beg to disagree
A smile cannot save me
Last night i wrote a poem written
With my blood as ink on my face
The angst on my crumpled paper
And they ask me to read my poem
This afternoon when everyone
Is tired and irritated
My turn, I think, I decide to give them my smile
Like her friendship, my compromise
I get their approval and I think
It is her friendship that kills
Literature that suppressed art
It started with Mona Lisa, now it
Will always be, perhaps, the scream
Must die, popularity does not like it.
I know I have to cry alone
In my room and make my own kind of literature.
Someday the world may find it and love it
Sorrow is suppressed and happiness is fabricated
Friendship has always been politics
And art is hidden in compromises
Only to come out later and too late
The people will say, “we all love this one! ”
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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I Will Have Written Only One
I WILL HAVE WRITTEN ONLY ONE
I wrote another poem today
The poem that I wrote yesterday
Tomorrow I will write a poem
Whose meaning will not be unknown.
Again and again I continue to write
The single poem of my only life
When all my poems and writing are done
I will have written only one.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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