There are rhythmic ideas which sometimes only work up to a point. In writing there are moments when it just comes off the page, it's not just a collection of notes.
quote by Harrison Birtwistle

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My companion
I don't know where I'll be,
when who ever buys my book to read.
I was just writing the date on my new
notebook, and these thoughts came to my mind.
Sometimes when I'm going over some
writing I see the date on the paper,
and it brings me memories of
how I felt at the time when I
wrote those poems,
Those notes, they have the flavor
of me. My intimate thoughts my most
saddest and happiest moments of
my existence.
My poems my notes my
stories and my hands, they are one.
One memory in all together.
The way my hands clinch my
writing my every move of prose.
I don't know who
Will want to read the writing coming
from a stranger a none-known poet.
From lonesome I, no one
knows who she is.
I cherish every letter,
word and phrase my hands have writting.
Because all of this has been to me a wonderful
companion of my lonesome life of appetence to feed.
Copyright©ElenaToledo2011
poem by Elenushka Toledo

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Writing the last page of the first draft is the most enjoyable moment in writing. It's one of the most enjoyable moments in life, period.
quote by Nicholas Sparks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Written Word Rules!
At the idea of poetry, some people seem to scoff,
As they consider it is an art form only for toffs.
They may think that the concept of poetry is boring,
And that it will leave them fast asleep and snoring.
There are all types of poems: modern and classical.
There’s something for everyone: it’s not boring at all.
The lyrics of songs are poems as such;
They often rhyme together very much.
People like to sing along with their favourite songs,
So why does the concept of poetry feel so wrong?
I’ve only started writing poetry in the last few weeks,
And, I have to admit that I thought it was just for geeks.
But, now I can see, that whoever you are,
Everyone has the potential to go really far.
I have to admit, I much prefer
The written, to the spoken word.
At night, I lay awake tossing and turning in bed,
With random thoughts running through my head.
By my pillow, I keep a pen and note pad,
To jot down any thoughts, which I’ve had.
At the top of the page, my thoughts I jot,
And I always plan out a really rough plot.
I like to include words which have a nice ring.
Words, like these, into my poetry, I like to bring.
I continually go through the alphabet time after time,
Searching for useful words which, pretty much, rhyme.
In simple terms, my ideas, I always like to express;
Complicated and fancy words, my mind doesn’t posses.
I’m sat here, writing this poem, on a speeding train,
As thought after thought, floods into my brain.
I’m writing notes on a mini pocket timetable,
In any tiny blank space which is available.
In my handbag, I’ve got no pad, but I’ve got a pen;
My scribbled notes, I just hope I can comprehend.
I really must start carrying a notepad everywhere;
To forget all these thoughts I’ve had, I couldn’t bear.
When I’m thinking of ideas, I just can’t relax;
My mind seems to buzz to the absolute max.
I’m not far now from my final destination,
And the train is due to pull into the station.
On this subject, there’s not much more to be said,
So, I’m now putting this poem well and truly to bed.
poem by Angela Wybrow

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work:
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work.
Oh free me please with gentle ease
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work!
This odium, pounding tedium
Of my work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
Just whisk me off to lands afar
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
That grinding train of rhythmic pain
Called ‘Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.’
Poor neural circuits fizzle and pop
In work, sleep, work, sleep, work,
In trying to make some sense of all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
But Hark! I see a golden gleam -
A saving spirit of hope:
‘You’re fired! ’ He screams. What news to bear,
This wondrous hangman’s rope!
So now I’m free, released from all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
Eternal peace and rest for me, no
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Which, of course, isn't the point of writing - but it would be nice if, along with the creative satisfaction of writing and seeing my work in print, I could do more than merely scrape a living. Okay, moaning over.
quote by Eric Brown

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wake up around noon, light a cigarette, get a cup of coffee, sit in the bathtub for an hour and daydream, and I usually come up with some ideas... It's a very irresponsible life. The only decisions I make are about the notes I'm writing.
quote by Hans Zimmer

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Jeannies Diary
How does our world spin
Without me and her nest
Could there really be
Such happiness
Oh, shes got a dark side too
Even murderous
But I love that
Just like here
I dont have a change at writing the book
I just wanna be a page
In jeannies diary
One single page
In jeannies diary
Yes I am intense
Maybe quite obsessed
Everything she does is curious
Oh, shes going to let me in
I just know its so
Then again, who do I kid
I dont have a prayer at writing the book
I just wanna be a page
In jeannies diary
One single page
In jeannies diary
She could have anything she wants
So why not me
She could have anything she dreams
Oh, to be one single page
One single page
One single page in jeannies dairy
song performed by by Eels

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unforgettable In Your Ear
There are notes in music
that take you high.
And notes that take you low.
When you listen to the notes of music
you never know where you'll go.
Within one song the notes you hear
affect how you will feel.
A plaintive melody might make you sad
or remind you of your pain.
But all of that can change in a minute
as you feel your emotions drain.
Uplifting notes can bring to you
a few moments of ecstatic peace.
Each inspiring strain can take you where
you are able to release
whatever it was that was troubling you,
erase it for a minute or two.
These notes are magic and so is life.
They're there and then they're not.
They're a gift to you from composers
that plant a forget-me-not.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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Keep writing. Try to do a little bit every day, even if the result looks like crap. Getting from page four to page five is more important than spending three weeks getting page four perfect.
quote by Alan Dean Foster

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There's not too much difference between writing a picture book and writing a collection of a hundred poems or so, except that the bigger books take a lot longer to do.
quote by Jack Prelutsky

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I see no point in
I see no point in
Understanding, as
At the end of it all
I am misunderstood
I see no point in
Visualizing
As in that process
I get drowned in dreams and inaction
I see no point in
Loving
As in its demonstration
I am either hurt or in hatred
I see no point in
Accumulating
As what is accumulated
Makes me its accumulation
I see point in
Teaching
As I am a proven failure
In unlearning
I see no point in
Giving
As I take pride in that
And am made arrogant
I see no point in
Becoming (something)
As I nurse the gnawing
That I am not that yet
I see no point in
Braving
As by that I proved
That I feared something
I see no point in
Praying (for something)
As it amounts to telling
That I am a beggar
I see no point in
Suffering
From something
As I prefer to struggle to overcome
I see no point in
Writing
As I will not be there with you
To say why I wrote this
poem by Bashyam Narayanan

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wish They'd Hurry Up and Come
When will they come
when will they turn up?
been sitting here for hours
it's so frustrating.
Sometimes they arrive
all at once, but times like now
they don't, it's so annoying.
Well if they don't come soon
that's it I'm not bothering anymore.
If I'd known it was going to be like this,
I wouldn't have started it all up again.
At last one has finally arrived,
now two, then three, then four,
wonders will never cease.
Finally I can get down to business
get it all down in writing.
Never thought that writing a novel
could be such hard work,
waiting for ideas and inspiration to come.
poem by Kevin Halls

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An Old Flame
The writing faded on the page
The paper yellowing with age
An age of innocence then died
The blurring marks where once i cried
The memories flow back to me
Why did she ever have to leave?
The writing fading from the page
The sadness now becomes of age
The paper's corner now a flame
I shall not see those words again.
poem by David Keig

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The Perfect Poem
Fledgling poets often make a wide variety of mistakes,
And it’s nice to have these brought to your attention.
People enjoy writing poetry, as at the end of the day,
They end up, with a product of their own invention.
If you’re writing a poem to enter into a competition,
Don’t be tempted to use coloured ink or fancy fonts;
Along with the use of images, they detract from the poem,
And this is not what any reader, especially a judge, wants.
The title of your masterpiece is very important indeed;
It needs to really grab the reader’s eye and attention.
People don’t always realise how important a catchy title is,
But, it is a valid point which really is worth a mention.
The body of text, needs to be broken into bite size verses,
So as it’s attractive to the reader’s roving and selective eye.
If a poem looks forbidding, and uninviting on the printed page,
Many a reader is likely to just gloss over it, and pass it on by.
The wording of a poem should sound as natural as can be:
Phrases shouldn’t be inverted in order to satisfy a rhyme.
The use of inversion is not considered to be skilful writing,
But, it is used by many writers of poetry, time after time.
The lines of a poem, especially those ones which rhyme,
Give or take a syllable, should be roughly of equal length.
If a poem has a really good strong, rhythmic pulse to it,
It really does give it so much more balance and strength.
Readers are much less likely to choose to read a poem,
If it is really confusing, or if it is just weirdly obscure.
Too many ideas and themes packed into one piece alone,
Is another problem which readers hate to have to endure.
You shouldn’t tell the reader too much or too little –
It needs to be just the right amount of information.
They need the chance to find their own way into a poem,
Leaving room for their own imagination, and interpretation.
Certain subjects are covered time and time again,
And so there’s not really anything very new to say;
If you do choose to write about a popular subject,
You need to present it in a totally fresh and new way.
If you follow the above useful advice and guidelines,
Your chances of winning a competition should increase.
Correct any spelling and grammatical errors you may have,
Then, you should end up with pretty much the perfect piece.
poem by Angela Wybrow

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At Times I Have
At times I have happy ideas,
Ideas suddenly happy, in among ideas
And the words in which they naturally shake free...
After writing, I read...
What made me write that?
Where have I been to find that?
Where did that come to me from? It is better than me...
Shall we have been, in the world, at the most, pen and ink
With which somebody writes properly what we here jot?...
poem by Fernando Pessoa from The Collected Poems of Álvaro de Campos (1934)

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Point of Dada Poetry
what is the of writing
dada is the poem point
is the of writing dada
point of writing a the
what the point writing dada
poem dada is point of
poem by John Thorkild Ellison

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Ideas must be put to the test. That's why we make things, otherwise they would be no more than ideas. There is often a huge difference between an idea and its realisation. I've had what I thought were great ideas that just didn't work.
quote by Andy Goldsworthy

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Notes
Primate, elemental, spontaneous and emotional;
The point of drunkeness is what i see around me,
But i do have my notes for you.
This is like the quasi-mystical secrets cilts,
And there arose the fear of the society;
But you have to cry for help when being cheated!
With others living in a turquoise-roofed temples,
Because the notes of this world are not always equal.
Geomancy and physiognomy with the notes,
But be very conscious of the parallels like the mandates of the heavens! !
For they are armed to the teeth and i am only around with my ink,
But i do have the notes about this world for you only to learn from.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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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

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Breaking point
Sometimes mere moments do linger,
when your eye catches mine intimately and honest
then I am simultaneously both scared and happy,
sometimes mere moments do linger,
when your eye catches mine intimately and honest,
when you linger with me without words,
sometimes then our love is pure
when your eye catches mine intimately and honest,
when you linger with me without words
and you wait that I tell you about my day,
about the glory and hell of work,
when you linger with me without words,
and you wait that I tell you about my day;
when I rather want to know more about you,
when I want to forget the rush, the distress
and you wait that I tell you about my day,
when I rather want to know more about you,
when a moment comes to a breaking point,
then sometimes I am surprised by your beauty,
when I rather want to know more about you,
when a moment comes to a breaking point,
sometimes mere moments do linger,
when we both remove our own masks,
when a moment comes to a breaking point;
sometimes mere moments do linger,
when your eye catches mine intimately and honest
then I am simultaneously both scared and happy,
sometimes mere moments do linger.
poem by Gert Strydom

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