The language has got to be fully alive - I can't bear dull, flaccid writing myself and I don't see why any reader should put up with it.
quote by Helen Dunmore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Being a librarian certainly helped me with my writing because it made me even more of a reader, and I was always an enthusiastic reader. Writing and reading seem to me to be different aspects of a single imaginative act.
quote by Margaret Mahy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Short-story writing requires an exquisite sense of balance. Novelists, frankly, can get away with more. A novel can have a dull spot or two, because the reader has made a different commitment.
quote by Lynn Abbey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Also, they don't understand - writing is language. The use of language. The language to create image, the language to create drama. It requires a skill of learning how to use language.
quote by John Milius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strange Language
When you write out a strange language,
What do expect from the reader?
For nobody understands what you do write,
So try to come out from your shells and let me understand you!
For there is love within your heart and,
I am ever ready to tap it with joy.
Do not hide yourself behind the mirror of love,
But rather come out plainly and let me understand what you are saying;
For a strange language never helps the reader,
And like a piece of Island taken over by the sea.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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It's also helpful to realize that this very body that we have, that's sitting right here right now... with its aches and it pleasures... is exactly what we need to be fully human, fully awake, fully alive.
quote by Pema Chodron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nada Mas (only the poem)
Reader, your voice is the poem
you are the words; and
nothing more.
Reader, there is no poetry
unless you speak it.
Reader, there is no sound
you must find what it has to say.
Reader, seek the thought
rising from your soul.
Reader, look all about you, up and down
no one else has come this way.
Reader, there is no other poem
only you among the words of the word; and
nothing more.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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An Apology To The Reader Who Has Written Me A Message I Have Not Answered
AN APOLOGY TO THE READER WHO HAS WRITTEN A MESSAGE TO ME I HAVE NOT ANSWERED
The real apology is not this poem
It is one by one
Reader by reader
Answering each one
Who has ever written me.
It is reading all the poems of others
I do not want to say
A ‘real no’ or a ‘false yes’ to.
It is opening myself
To perhaps a true friend
To perhaps one whose writing
I see better than my own.
The real apology
Is in opening up to the poems of the many unknown others.
Will I do this
Will I give it the time
When I already am guilty
Of not using my limited time
To correct my past work?
Dear Reader,
I apologize, I do not know.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Language Poets are writing only about language itself. The Ashbery poets are writing only about poetry itself. That seems to me a kind of dead end.
quote by Robert Morgan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There was a time when the reader of an unexciting newspaper would remark, 'How dull is the world today' Nowadays he says, 'What a dull newspaper'
quote by Daniel J. Boorstin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The reader has to be creative when he's reading. He has to try to make the thing alive. A good reader has to do a certain amount of work when he is reading.
quote by Nathalie Sarraute
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alive In The World
I want to live in the world, not inside my head
I want to live in the world, I want to stand and be counted
With the hopeful and the willing
With the open and the strong
With the voices in the darkness
Fashioning daylight out of song
And the millions of lovers
Alive in the world
I want to live in the world, not behind some wall
I want to live in the world, where I will hear if another voice should call
To the prisoner inside me
To the captive of my doubt
Who among his fantasies harbors the dream of breaking out
And taking his chances
Alive in the world
To open my eyes and wake up alive in the world
To open my eyes and fully arrive in the world
With its beauty and its cruelty
With its heartbreak and its joy
With it constantly giving birth to life and to forces that destroy
And the infinite power of change
Alive in the world
To open my eyes and wake up alive in the world
To open my eyes and fully arrive in the world
To open my eyes and wake up alive in the world
To open my eyes and fully arrive in the world
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Charity Shop Bear
The bear in the charity shop looked so lost,
So I asked the lady there, how much he cost.
She told me three pounds and that was fine,
As bought new, he would’ve cost at least nine.
When I spotted him sitting there on the shelf,
I knew I just had to have him for myself.
I just couldn’t have left him sitting there,
As he really was the most gorgeous bear.
He had obviously been very well cared for.
He had light cream coloured velveteen paws.
His plush fur was the colour of milk chocolate.
Who knows what would have been his final fate?
He had fully jointed legs and arms,
And he radiated oodles of charm.
He also had a fully jointed head.
He really was a very special Ted.
His fur wasn’t matted and was really very soft.
I picked him from the shelf and held him aloft.
He was about sixteen inches tall in height,
And his brown beady eyes shone bright.
He was in absolutely immaculate condition.
To give him a brand new home, was my mission.
He was an extraordinary bear, who was like no other,
And now he was very happy, as he had a new mother.
The lady put him in a bag, feet first, so as he could ‘breathe.’
That a teddy bear is alive, I think we like to secretly believe.
And so, together, we began our journey to his new home,
With a promise from me, that no more would he ever roam.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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The Poet And The Reader
the poet writes his lines
they are all dead
unless the reader comes
and resurrects them
then the poem becomes alive
and begins to read upon itself
the meaning of its existence
there is a bond between the poet
and the reader
a familiarity comes into play
one says> this is what it is
the other says> i know.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bear With Me
The operator girl
kept saying this to me
over the phone
while waiting for her
to finish her assignment
I requested for her to do
but she kept saying
'Bear with me, bear with me...'
I thought to myself
what do I have to bear with
only a phone call bill
at the end of the month...
and a little patience
for this girl to finish her job?
but she is so sweet to say
such words that warm my heart
in the end
what do I have to bear with now?
A new light shined on me
with this man as sweet as this girl
who keeps saying
'Bear with me, bear with me...'
but this man is not English speaker
so he can't say
'Bear with me.'
but he is the rekindled heart
that was brought forth
in my life now
but I don't have to bear with it
nor suffer through with it
but just a zest or play
some kids might enjoy doing
with their friends
I also became a child
to play the play things
with him
so delightful to hear him say
in my language
that was forgotten in me
for so long
but now returned a new
in different form of language
a new language
Living in two language worlds
made me forget all the things
that were inherent in that language
but now they are returned and refreshed a new
in this fellow a new fiery light
who is he?
I don't quite well know
but is better than the one who kept
saying to me over the phone
on one fine day
'I love you! I so much love you,
that's all I want to say to you
to let you know..'
He didn't give me his name nor
his identity but only the empty 'I Love You's
over the phone in one afternoon
but this new light-shine on me
a new friend is not saying such stupid words
but things he needs to know
needs to say and do
Those are the ones he only says
and the language he speaks is so refreshing
and renews my heart
the lost words
in me returned through him.
Hello, friend,
are you gonna stay around for a long time
or are you gonna go away and
not return..
only he is the one who will answer this question.
So today I bear with this girl
who is doing a job for me
and who is sweet enough to say
such sweet words to me
that brought me another poem like this
this morning.
No more of suffering
no more of bearing
but simple facts and duties to fulfill
life's journey has ended here
and job well done,
done with.
10: 07am Korea-Japan Time
(November 9,2012)
poem by Sangnam Nam
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1975
Brawling scratches mean a bad hair day
Go on and press your face
All up against the glass
Watch and wonder as the pretty things spin and burn
Swing and missing all
Almost every time
Yeah, almost every time
Brawling scratches mean a bad hair day
Go on and press your face
All up against the glass
Watch and wonder as the pretty things spin and burn
Swing and missing all
Almost every time
Im not alive, 1975
Id spend my time wasted, dull, damaged, and blind
Im not alive, 1975
Yeah, 1975
I see scratches and the idiot kids
I watched them getting high
Out in the cold blue sky
Watch and wonder as the asphalt babies burned
Dancing in the flame, laughing all of the while
Im not alive, 1975
Id spend my time wasted, dull, damaged, and blind
Im not alive, 1975
Watch and wonder as they fade away...
Dull, damaged, and blind...
Sounds a lot like me
Dull, damaged, and blind...
Sounds a lot like me
Dull, damaged, and blind...
Yeah, almost all of the time
Dull, damaged, and blind...
Whoa, 1975
I m not alive, 1975
I was not alive, 1975
Id spend all my time wasted dull, damaged, and blind 1975
Watch and wonder as they fade away...
song performed by by Everclear
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Sublime For Poets
how sublime for poets
who spend sleepless nights
writing a poem and posting
them at dawn when even
all the dusts on the furnitures
are still all asleep, and
he never expects anything
to happen to his life, not
even the simplest thank
you from an unknown
reader, and he, who in turn
knows that a reader exists
somewhere, he too, never
has the chance of saying
you are welcome.
it's the spirit, i suppose,
that cannot stop, but goes
on and on, speaking to
itself, like the way its body
speaks to the house and
listens to the winds of the
windows and waits for
an opening of his only door.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Laughter
Life is a dull story told by an idiot
Who is the idiot? Macbeth? Shakespeare?
Or the reader himself?
Because where is the text?
Does the reader half create it and
half perceive?
But suppose life were a story
told by an intellectual
Would it make any difference?
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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Life Itself
"It is that life itself, fully awake, fully active,
fully aware that it is alive. It is spiritual wonder."
Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation
Dark rain penetrates
tender leaves, swell spirits, sparks
dormant roots to life.
Like a god, Your star
ascends; with wonder and grace
shines Your mighty face!
poem by Steven Federle
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Reader or writer
If you are a reader or a writer.
You should be a positive thinker.
You are more like a scientist observer.
Try to be an exact experimenter.
Nothing is too crazy to put on paper.
If you are a reader or a writer.
The reader is a wonderful dreamer.
The writer is a sincere worker.
Its lovely that both can be each other.
If you are a reader or a writer.
You should never say never.
So don't leave behind a book marker.
Make sure you have a word sharpener.