I like myself better when I'm writing regularly.
quote by Willie Nelson
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
I Come Alive In Writing
I come alive in writing
Even if the writing means nothing to anyone else-
I come alive in writing
Even if I am totally deluding myself as to its value-
I come alive in writing
Even if at times while writing there is an underlying hopelessness and despair -
I come alive in writing
As if writing is what God has given me to do-
I come alive in writing
As if through it I can truly give to and help others-
I come alive in writing
As if life has meaning through it-
I come alive in writing
Even when I sense the writing is not good or great
As I would wish it to be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
And I'm writing
The purpose of writing poem
Is not known and I'm writing.
Excuse me, I'm writing
And writing
And writing is natural
As natural as wind
As natural as light
And I'm writing
Writing and pervading
Everywhere.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Love To Read
Is it a misconception,
That writers read...
Other writers' works?
Or reads extensively at all?
Afterall...
When would a true writer,
Find time to get that done...
If one has a love to read?
And...
I am not that one to say,
A reading AND a writing done...
Is an impossibility.
Because I read what I write often.
Regularly and on a daily basis.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Planning to write is not writing. Outlining, researching, talking to people about what you're doing, none of that is writing. Writing is writing.
quote by E.L. Doctorow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Writing The Words
I’m writing this at your funeral.
As I watch all the people in tears.
I wish I could join them,
But I know I have to be strong.
I’m writing this on my hand,
No paper to get it down on.
I want to remember your funeral,
So I’m writing this to honour you.
I’m writing the thoughts that pop into my head,
Making sure they are only the best.
I have to remember,
Because I couldn’t live with myself if I ever forgot.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
As people dropp flowers onto your coffin.
I stand up to dropp my own,
Blue, unlike the others, because I know it’s your favourite.
I’m writing this through the ceremony,
Because if I listen to the words I’ll cry.
And I know I can’t, for you,
I have to keep it together.
I’m writing the words I want to say,
To make people remember how much love you gave.
Because I want them to know,
How much of it you gave to me.
So, I’m writing this at your funeral,
To stop myself from shedding a tear.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
So that I never ever forget you.
poem by Rachel Brewer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On Writing
is talking aloud to myself
i'm the first recipient of my communication,
first translator of my emotion into words.
first witness to the subtle unfolding within
writing is my strength.
writing is my weakness too
to me writing is meditation.
writing is prayer!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When I'm writing about reality, I'm writing about death. When I'm writing fiction, I'm writing about life.
quote by Ralph Peters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I enjoy writing, sometimes; I think that most writers will tell you about the agony of writing more than the joy of writing, but writing is what I was meant to do.
And So I'm Writing...
I'm hard-pressed for time,
yet I do have the heart
And so I'm writing
Know not what to pen down,
have a paper to write on
And so I'm writing
May be I'll write about 'you and me'
Or may be of 'us and them'
Feel like playing with words
And so I'm writing
May be that starving beggar's hungry looks
Or that homeless Child's beckoning eyes
Are making me scribble these lines to you
And so I'm writing
May be you'll find my words vague
Or you might decipher a meaning
Intend to leave you in the oblivion
And so I'm writing
Whatever might be the impression I create
Wish to see its reflection on your soul
And leave an imprint on your mind
And so I'm writing
May be you and I've become immune
To the pathos of mankind
Or may be there's still
A dropp of humanity flowing deep within us
Wish to arouse 'The Human Being' in you
And so I'm writing...
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Writing To
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Writing every emotion..
With such a white background.
It makes no sound
Even as the keys I pound.
Let my words have bite
Let from my words drip out meanings beyond meanings
Its something I try to be constantly be achieving.
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
I want every heart and mind
Sucked in cause this is my world stage
No sense of the time.
Never to turn the page
Stuck in to a world oh so oh so fine
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Listen to her melody, as she sings.
Let chaos reign down from the skies
What will this day really bring?
Will the letter say good bye?
Will it mend everything?
Making everything better.
Destroying all the consequences
That exist in your world.
Welcome to the place I visit daily.
Inspirational maddness,
It attacks, attacks, and attacks.
With perfect sadness
I must let go once more.
And then the words hit the floor
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
Becoming one with my soul.
Fighting for its one and only control.
Its mine, Its mine. Its mine.
In this reality it subsequently is not
A constant questioning of what?
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
With every sound, taste, and light.
The worlds get get oh so oh so bright
Understand that which is not so forthright
This is my night, and day.
So come on join me, please this way.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Time Spares Nobody
Time spares nobody
Lying in the grave
Under mound of sand
He heard voices of people
Crying and sobbing
They had come to bury
One more body
Their expression of grief
Meant nothing to him
He sarcastically smiled
Remembered
Long back
In the same way
People known, unknown
Had brought him here
Crying and sobbing
Visited him regularly
Slowly they stopped coming
Now he lies all alone
Same will happen to the one
Who just joined the fraternity?
Memories fade slowly
Time spares nobody
Does any body
Really love somebody
The question
Haunted him regularly
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The venom of loneliness
Loneliness is biting me like a cobra
Its venom is killing me bit by bit
Now I have become something like an animal
I don't bathe, wash my face and brush my teeth
Regularly
It seems without you I will die like a street dog
I don't comb my hair, Put on clean clothes,
Go out for a walk and do any job
Regularly
I can't concentrate on anything
I no more like to write, dance and sing
I spend sleepless nights like the rats and bats
I fall asleep in the morning like night guards
I startle hearing ring of my phone thinking it's from you
I keep on wondering why it's happening to me more and more
I am like a flower in a garden and you are like a butterfly
I wait for you all day long day after day
My beautiful petals fall one-by-one
My sweet smell is carried away by rain and wind
But you do not come, my friend
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Twenty-Fifth Year of His Life
He goes regularly to the taverna
where they'd met the previous month.
He made inquiries, but they weren't able to tell him
anything.
From what they said, he gathered the person he'd met
was someone completely unknown,
one of the many unknown and shady young types
who dropped in there.
But he still goes to the taverna regularly, at night,
and sits there gazing toward the doorway,
gazing toward the doorway until he's worn out.
Maybe he'll walk in. Tonight maybe he'll turn up.
He does this for nearly three weeks.
His mind's sick with longing.
The kisses are there on his mouth.
His flesh, all of it, suffers from endless desire,
the feel of that other body is on his,
he wants to be joined with it again.
Of course he tries not to give himself away.
But sometimes he almost doesn't care.
Besides, he knows what he's exposing himself to,
he's come to accept it: quite possibly this life of his
will land him in a devastating scandal.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I'm Not Writing A Poem Today
I'm not writing a poem today, don't feel like writing,
Instead I'll watch soaps today, while nail-biting.
I'm not writing a poem today, I'm just going to sleep soon,
Instead I'll later wake up and look at the white moon,
I'm not writing a poem today, I'm just going to be sad,
Instead I'm going to search for something else that makes me glad.
So peace be unto anyone that reads the letter here,
For I am not writing a poem today, just going to get a beer.
poem by Chad Fisher
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Not The Poem Then
NOT THE POEM THEN
Not the poem then
Although it can be the poem
Writing
Simply writing
This is the duty and the meaning
And the release from meaninglessness
And the ‘enabling me to go on’
The poem is only one form of it
It is the writing which matters
My life has been this
This writing
Even if it is a poor poem now
As I write these words
I live.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Soyinka, Intro
'But the ultimate lesson is just sit down and write.
That's all.'
so with you charles.
and so with me
here i am
writing and writing ang writing
that's all
no questions asked
anymore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nothing is as surprising as life. Except for writing. Except for writing. Yes, of course, except for writing, the only consolation.
Orhan Pamuk in The Black Book
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.
My Blue Pen
A pen, what is a pen?
An instrument for writing, a tool, a path to wisdom?
Or is much more than that?
What means this blue pen to my heart?
I'm writing with this pen all my thoughts, my hopes,
I'm keep it in my hand to help my ideas flow,
This blue pen is the bearer of all my joy and pain,
And when i'm writing, its blue ink holds my dreams.
I'm writing with my blue pen,
Which he gave it to me,
To never forget and to write,
Our impossible love story in the book of life.
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Writing (ii)
They look bright
As light falls upon them
They seem statesmen too
As they talk incessant
Let them use pen and paper
They will uncover their
Cleverness of hiding power
Writing is a fight between
The Powers of dark and light
The Difference between an elephant
And an ant.
Writing is the impressive enormity
Among the works of tiny trivialities
Writing is a question asked to realise
The blunt indifference
Writing is like putting the sun
At the centre of life.
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!