Red Poem
I wanted to write a poem in red
with all the qualities that red has:
texture, light, sound, urgency and intensity that red has
Because I'm tired of blue poems or yellow
I wanted to write a poem in red.
poem by Lauro Marques
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I Wanted To Write The Most Beautiful Poem
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
The one beyond any music I had known-
The one which would reveal the changes
in yellows and greens
spring sunlight whispered to the trees
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
The one which would tell the stories of all those I have loved and cared for-
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
As a poem of Kindness-
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
Of sublime and overpowering distance
Of stars when stars were dreams -
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem-
But I knew many other poems already written
Would always be far more beautiful than mine-
So I tried to write the most beautiful poem I could-
But the light outside
The world and its colors
The beauties we see and hear everyday
Said to me again and again,
'Walk more humbly with your God and do Justice and love Mercy also'.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wanted To Write The Poems Of The Stars
I WANTED TO WRITE THE POEMS OF THE STARS
I wanted to write the poems of the stars
The poem of Beauty and Hope and Inspiration
I wanted to write a poem that helped others
Find Joy and Meaning in their lives -
I write my little poems
Often they are the sad truths of my own little life
Consolations for myself
I think may perhaps echo the souls of others.
I am not what I would have been
And perhaps not what I should be
I am what I am
What G-d has given me to be -
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Scribbler's Stymie
Pen and paper in sight
I've got no poem to write
Staying up all night
I've got no poem to write
Although my mind is bright
I've got no poem to write
It's windy out tonight, should I go fly a kite?
I've got no poem to write
My ceiling, it is white
I've got no poem to write
It's 4: 59! Five, but not quite
I've got no poem to write
In your arms I'd feel so light
I've got no poem to write
I've had no sleep tonight
I've got no poem to write
Will you just hold me tight?
I've got no poem to write
Outside it's almost light
I've got no poem to write
It's late, off goes my light
I've got no poem to write
poem by Julia Grace
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The Morning Poem Did Not Come
THE MORNING POEM DID NOT COME
The morning poem did not come-
So this is the effort of an afternoon poem,
Warm and sun- filled and relaxing and deep and waiting.
This is a poem between times more interesting than itself.
The light is so great now.
But this too is a poem of little or nothing to say
Of afternoon emptiness after morning emptiness
On a tired tired day.
Once I thought I would write poems which would make immortal
Those I love.
Now I write poems to keep myself going.
This afternoon I am extremely tired
But if this is poem
Or even if I only think it is
I can have a rest
Before I face the evening.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem Of All The Places I Have Never Been
THE POEM OF ALL THE PLACES I HAVE NEVER BEEN
The poem of all the places I have never been
The poem of all the dreams I have not seen
The poem of others poems written in lines I have never imagined
The poem of the infinite – what-is- not and ‘what- will- never- be
The poem of seas and suns and sounds and Shakespeare’s sonnets,
The poem of words and only words whose sounds do not mean what we feel
The poem of all I would not and cannot write
The poem that is not and never will be in me
The poem I do not write
The poem I am not
The poem lost
The poem which itself is not a poem
The poem of the last contradiction and the first
The poem beyond the poem hidden within the poem
The poem which will never be a poem
The poem which is not
The poem I cannot dream.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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!
I Couldn't Write The Poem I Wanted To Write
I couldn't write the poem I wanted to write-
I do not know why exactly
Some days it works
And some nights it works
And some times it just does not work at all-
I couldn't write the poem I wanted to write-
There have been so many things in my life
I have wanted to do
And not been able to-
As I grow older
I fear there will be more and more simple things
I will not be able to do.
So much of what we are
Is in these failures-
I sometimes think how sad it is
That I have failed in so many things-
All my life I have known failures
And it will not end until I do-
I couldn't write the poem I wanted to write,
And this is not it, either.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A love poem to a poem
for there’s what you planned to write about,
and what you find yourself
writing about; perhaps
find yourself, while writing about..
and there’s the poem itself; did you
consult it about what
its plans were? and when
it’s got itself written,
gone where it wanted to,
said what it wanted to say,
become what it wanted to become,
do you really know
what it’s finally and really about?
is it telling you more about
you than you knew yourself?
is the poem writing you?
did we, as with the unicorn,
feel the unspoken need for it,
and it became?
in some other world,
did two grains of dust change places?
did a new sort of light
shine on a new sort of place
in some new sort of time?
poems are like cats:
we think we own them;
they allow us certain rights,
but they own us.
this is a love poem
to a poem
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I Am Too Tired To Write A Good Poem
I AM TOO TIRED TO WRITE A GOOD POEM
I am too tired to write a good poem
I am too cold also
I have been out all day in the cold and the rain
I have been doing errands since early in the morning
I babysat for four hours in the afternoon
I went out again in the cold and rain to buy a few groceries
I tried to write and could not
I read and overate a few times
I tried to write
But I could not
I am very tired now
A poem should not be a simple clear description of one’s own mood at the moment
I am too tired to write a good poem
But I try to write
And this is the result
A poor poem indeed.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wanted A Poem In The Early Morning-Even Before The Darkness Had Gone
I WANTED A POEM IN THE EARLY MORNING
I wanted a poem in the early morning
Even before the darkness had gone-
I wanted to hear words
That meant music
That said I was alive and could write-
I wanted a poem in the early morning
So that I could be justified
For the rest of the day-
Time and again I have written that poem
I write it now -
How wonderful when it flows as if it is real
I may never know that it is
But in writing it, thank God, I feel alive and blessed
poem by Shalom Freedman
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So Many People Have No Poem
SO MANY PEOPLE HAVE NO POEM
So many people have no poem.
No one writes of them and for them,
And perhaps it is not important to most of them.
But for the few who need and want a poem
And cannot write a poem of their own
Shouldn’t there be someone to write for them?
I have tried to write for a few
But not that well either.
Who will write for them?
Who will listen for them?
God Maker of all Poems and Silences,
You Alone can save us,
The makers of poems
And those who are only listeners.
God You Alone-Write their names for them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wanted To Write The One Poem Everyone Would Remember
I wanted to write the one poem everyone would remember
Though I knew it had already been written many times by others-
I wanted to write the one poem
Which long after I was dead
Would say to me when I could not hear
‘You will live forever as Literature’
I knew I probably would not write that poem -
This is certainly not it -
I knew ‘Trying’ too is not enough
And yet
Here I am with my desires and my life
And as my father said the world is going by
And who am I to ever hope
To catch up with it?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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If You Want To Write A Poem For Me
IF YOU WANT TO WRITE A POEM FOR ME
If you want to write a poem for me
It must go beyond poetry-
I do not know if you can do that
I am not sure I am capable of perceiving it-
Perhaps I am already too old
And hearing a truly new poem
Is something that is left for others-
Perhaps too all I ever wanted after all
Is to hear my own poem-
And perhaps listening to you
Even if your poem is real
Will be far too much for me.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Poem Tired Of Being Written Of Itself
THE POEM TIRED OF BEING WRITTEN OF ITSELF
The poem tired of being written of itself
It wanted other worlds and more distant beauty
It wanted the inspiration that ordinary life gives
It wanted too a language beyond what simple words could mean
But the poem could not be more than it was
It fell back upon itself
It was lost in its own lonely being
The poem stayed forever a poem about itself
And when no one read it
The poem had only itself to blame.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wanted A Poem Greater Than The One I Had
I WANTED A POEM GREATER THAN THE ONE I HAD
I wanted a poem greater than the one I had
I tried again and again to write it-
I could only write the poem I am
It was not all I wanted it to be-
It is here now in these lines
Simple and clear and superficial and me.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wanted My Poem To Be A Real Poem
I WANTED MY POEM TO BE A REAL POEM
I wanted my poem to be a real poem-
I have read and studied and memorized
So many real poems-
I wanted my poem to be one of them
Which others would read and feel and memorize
And make their own –
We want and we want and we want
And who are we with all our wanting?
Who am I with all my wanting?
One more dreamer
One more ambitious person
One more lover of poems
One more writer of poems
One more wanter of real poems
Who writes this poem
For others
who dream like me
of writing real poems.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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If Only I Could Write A Beautiful Poem
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
I would write it special and only to you
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
So that we will forever remain so very very true
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
With more than a goodness like something new
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
Like the everlasting stay of the sky so blue
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
I would pray to God
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
I would work very hard for the Lord
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
With happiness the remain all through the year
f only I could write a beautiful love poem
Knowing that you will be very near
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
One so very very true
If only I could write a beautiful love poem
I would write it just for you
poem by Douglas Carter
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I Wanted The Sky To Write Me A Poem
I WANTED THE SKY TO WRITE ME A POEM
I wanted the sky to write me a poem
I looked up to its dark spaces, grey clouds, deep stars-
It said to me,
“You are the poem
wander freely
the world is forever open
before you.”
I looked up at the sky again
And the Beauty of the night
Was too great for me
To bear the Silence of.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Wanted To Write A Poem That Would Exalt And Uplift
I WANTED TO WRITE A POEM THAT WOULD EXALT AND UPLIFT
I wanted to write a poem that would exalt and uplift
I wanted to give exuberance and delight to others-
But what I can write
Is less than this
And I must fumble in my own small way
My own small truths on the page
And if they are some meaning or consolation or goodness
To another
Say ‘Thank God’ for that.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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All I Can Do Now Is Write Another Poem
All I can do now is write another poem-
The poems are small,
And do not require the long hours and long years
Of the books-
Like the world as a whole
I seem to have a shorter attention span
And less patience-
A poem can be written and given a name
In minutes not years-
Though some would say a great poem
Takes the travail of years of waiting
And years of work-
But I did not say
‘All I can do now is write another great poem'
Perhaps I have in all the years of the nights never written one-
I can write the poems I write
My kinds of poems
In a fairly short time-
All I can do now
Is write another of my kind of poems-
Whether they be worth anything,
Or not.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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