I believe it is important to speak to your readers in person... to enable people to have a whole picture of me; I have to both write and speak. I view my role as writer and also as oral communicator.
quote by Buchi Emecheta
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Writer- a must?
Out of what does a writer write?
Out of hatred or perversion;
Out of denial or deprivation.
Why does a writer write?
To vent his anger or hatred.
To cry out from pain or lust.
How does a writer write?
By borrowing or distorting.
By modeling or duping.
For what does a writer write?
For an applause and a place.
It alone suits him, an idler.
What is the use of a writer?
For him to flaunt his skill.
For readers to idle away
Does the society need a writer?
Does a woman need cosmetics?
Writer is a part of civilization
16.05.2007.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is insight into human nature that is the key to the communicator's skill. For whereas the writer is concerned with what he puts into his writings, the communicator is concerned with what the reader gets out of it. He therefore becomes a student of how people read or listen.
quote by William Bernbach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Communicator
I am the communicator
I said I am the communicator
And I go
Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ya-ya-ya
Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ya-ya-ya
Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ya-ya-ya
Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ya-ya-ya
Unconditional love
Nothing but reconciliation
Standing room now only
For the Madness nation
Got to get a tickle on a ticket for the grand slam station
All aboard for the Madness nation
I said I am the communicator
I said I am the communicator
And I go
Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ya-ya-ya
Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ya-ya-ya
Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ya-ya-ya
Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ya-ya-ya-ya
Let me tell you
How I feel
I feel I'm skared for life
I am the communicator
I said I am the communicator
And I go
Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ya-ya-ya
Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ya-ya-ya
Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ya-ya-ya
Ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ye-ya-ya-ya-ya
Yesterday was history
Tomorrow is a mystery
Today is a gift
That's why we call it the present
All aboard, aboard
Back of the big blue train relations
Standing room now only
For the Madness nation
I said I am the communicator
I said I am the communicator
C'mon, I am the communicator
Oh yeah, I am the communicator
Let me tell you
How I feel
I feel I'm scared for life
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Speak With Kindness (Or Do Not Speak At All)
speak with kindness,
or do not speak at all.
speak not of judgement,
you are not the judge.
speak not of salvation,
let your living be your scriptures.
speak not of scriptures,
let your actions be your holy book.
speak not as apostle or teacher,
speak as a human being.
speak not of god,
then god will speak through you!
speak not as a man,
for you are woman too.
speak not with hateful malice,
for love does not work that way.
speak not as a prophet or seer,
speak as compassion made flesh.
speak not of morality,
speak of connection.
speak not of authority,
the tree and the leaf have just as much.
speak not of holiness,
for all that lives be holy.
speak with kindness...
or do not speak at all!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From Mighty Pen
It will not only be evaluated
But in all the directions circulated
Each word read and assessed
The thought behind it accepted and chased
Whatever you write
May not lead to fight
But may be preserved
As you have deserved
Write up is perfect
Speak of good act
One should have always dreamed
Thought of and assumed
Write with pen and pencil
But never mention it as nil
It may make final impression
Fine border with embroidery relation
So to speak less and do more
Some thoughts are needed therefore
To write and leave it for others
To think, act or otherwise bother
Write, write and write
That shall ignite
Your hidden talent
To make solid movement
Readers may not appreciate quickly
But may accept views happily
As it has come from a mighty pen
At a time when needed from noble man
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Empty Picture Frame
An empty picture frame sits upon my desk
Where once upon a time a picture in it did rest
But now the frame stands lifeless and bare
Now it reminds me of a love that once was there.
As in the past the picture brought me happiness and joy
Gave me the reason to live and to write my story
To glance upon and dream of when no one was near
To speak the words of love when them she couldn't hear.
But when she left me I threw her picture away
But I kept that frame to remind me of that day
In remembrance of what she did in and out of my sight
As she was my candle but she blew out that light
So that picture frame I keep it in my plain view
So every time I see it I know what to say and what to do
As once upon a time her picture was in the frame
But now picture is gone but the memories still remain.
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Writer's Ink
I am the writer's ink,
So just write with me without any fear;
I will move more than expected,
I will write more than expected,
I am the writer's ink.
Use me slowly or even faster,
I will talk more than expected;
I do have the message to teach everyone.
Of the beauty of communication,
I am used by everyone;
I am the writer's ink,
I do make people sad or glad;
My ink makes rulers sad,
My ink makes personalities sad,
My ink makes the common man sad,
The way i am used matters.
I am the writer's ink,
I am not expensive;
Buy me and use me always.
How can a country like Ghana be poor? !
Ghana has gold, oil, cocoa and timber;
There are also diamond, bauxite and other minerals;
How then can Ghana be poor? !
The writer's ink should tell us more.
Mismanagement is the food in the country,
Ghana has really more than it needs;
This country shouldn't be poor.
What the leaders say on air is not,
What we see on the ground;
I am the talkative ready to talk.
I am the writer's ink,
I will always speak the truth!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Using The Same Old Devices
No it's not easy
To speak one's mind.
Or to take a stand
For something strongly felt!
There are more people
Bringing those like this down.
And they are not happy at all...
Until they see that person crawling,
Falling to the ground!
And these are the very same people who say...
They are looking for leaders and role models.
And one 'has' to wonder,
If they are seeking human sacrifices?
Or...
Are they using the same old devices,
To make excuses...
Not to stand on their own two feet!
And it is much easier,
To beat up that one person who has the nerve...
And does!
Creating a further disdain,
For someone who has the audacity
To attract attention,
To perceive and believe...
He or she may be better than the rest of them!
And they are not happy at all...
Until they see that person crawling,
Falling to the ground!
And these are the very same people who say...
They are looking for leaders and role models.
To unite them as a people!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Young Poets
You speak for the lakes, the trees and the birds
You say what they'd say if they had the words.
Make PEACE and be proud, choose well every choice
Speak HOPE and speak loud, you are Nature's voice.
Speak with respect now, for jungles and streams,
Speak for all wildlife and dream giant dreams.
Speak with great courage, speak up and speak out,
Write with a whisper or write with a SHOUT!
Stand up young poets for clean air and rivers,
Free verse or lyric; your message delivers...
Truth to the future citizens of earth,
Speak of your freedom your friends and self worth.
Speak for tomorrow and though you're still young,
Speak for the Forest, your pen is her tongue.
The world waits to hear your songs still unsung
Words posses power, you can write the wrongs
Teach us and lead us with Poems and with songs.
Speak now for nature, for trees and for birds,
Defenders of Earth choose carefullly your words!
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A deception with conscience
Person can’t be deceived by his own conscience
He has inner instinct to remember and feel the presence
One may be successful in little time period
People may think different of him and avoid
“Did you ever see my profile?
Catch me there for while
It may speak for my self and reveal
There is hardly anything to conceal” I replied to a question
”Poets need not speak for themselves
Their volumes or work may speak itself
It is how you present your life and work poetically
It gets on to the heart of people theoretically” I finished it by saying
You have so much to learn from friends
They may advance from different angles and lend
The valuable support and inspiration
It may its own weight and startling revelation
I find female readers or friends more considerate
They are near to the truth and hold views very moderate
What they present is purely from mother’s heart
They never try to impose or even try to look smart
They may be found in friend, daughter or beloved
Most all feelings are bridged and puzzle is solved
They nearly take you to the dead far end
Revive it with kind and best human trend
I may not see in them only from sex point of view
I try to understand them and give their legitimate due
This must be the secret of any poet and be pursued
So at any time they are not misunderstood and sued
Should I restrict my self to only writing?
What if some one offers beautiful fighting?
Not ending in scuffle but lovely exchanges of words
I always take it as good sign and look forward
what tasks poets are supposed to presume and perform?
Take the readers views in arms and stay informed
this may prove to be great joy for the moment
it may be not only great event but surely good movement
Is it purely a matter of poetical value?
Don’t you think our presence in vital role is due?
What we are expected to deliver at the critical juncture?
Is the future really dependent on well presentation of literature?
I take it as holy task making our presence known on all the forums
We may encounter many unpleasant tasks with future in doldrums
It is how you tackle the sentiments of readers at your heart
The pace may be very slow but you may find it very encouraging from start
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A Closed Book
A book unopened
leaves words to die.
A book unopened
leaves words to lie
in perpetuity,
never alive, never free
to deliver its thoughts
for any to see.
Who was the writer?
What did he pen?
The absence of readers
are lost and then
the book lies quietly
on a shelf
and maybe all by itself it knows.
It will never be opened.
It will always be closed,
just like some people
who won't open up
and speak their words to you.
Their life is something
you'll never know,
something you won't view.
For they are a closed book too.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Same Story, The same History
...and so the same story is told
the same history is made....
why always speak of descrimination
why always speak of war
why always speak of class
why always speak of injustice
why always speak of poverty
why always speak of rebellion....
why not speak of equality
why not speak of peace
why not speak of respect
why not speak of wisdom
why not speak of production
why not speak of working together...
...and so the same story is told
the same history is made.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Wasteland
Can you see us now were on our own
And every chance has just come and just gone
Now it looks so dark and so cold
Think of the minds we sold
Wed better speak now
Wed better speak now
Wed better speak now
Wed better speak now
I can remember things that looked so bright
And I could talk to you without all this spite
Can you picture all thats past
Does your face deform so fast
Wed better speak now
Wed better speak now
Wed better speak now
Wed better speak now
'cause when I stop and look into your head
I think of all the things that you said
When I look up into your eyes
I see the creature that I despise
Kill now
Kill now
Kill now
Kill now
Can you see us now were on our own
And every chance has just come and gone
Ive been wrong but youve been unkind
Theres so much more that I cant find
Wasteland
Wasteland
Wasteland...
Lyrics : j kerr music : burchill/kerr (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Strokes Of My Pen
With the strokes of my pen
I'll write again
words that come into view.
And those that come upon my words
will know me as they do.
For my heart will speak to them
and say
you, my readers have found a way
to read the thoughts
I leave behind
and then you'll find
you know me.
You won't need to see
my presence at all.
For all my words will make the call
and bare my soul to you.
And you will know just who I am.
The strokes of my pen are the clue.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reading Laozi
Speak person not know know person silent
This saying I hear from old gentleman
If Way old gentleman be know person
Reason what confident five thousand characters
Those who speak do not know, those who know are silent,
I heard this saying from the old gentleman.
If the old gentleman was one who knew the way,
Why did he feel able to write five thousand words?
Glorious half
Glorious half
I have clearly understood
Poetry is my compassion and nutritious food
I can survive no longer
It is appetite and hunger
I may not be good communicator
I may not have quality of good lecturer
Yet my heart longs for compassion
Ready to acknowledge flaws for admission
I don't even know where from the ideas rush in!
It may be purely divine gift and blessings
I shall claim no credit from anyone
As it is purely an advantage for single man
I move with the events and cry within
Feel anguish and salt of pinch with pain
The head aches with worldly sins
Creates pathetic and vivid picture to be seen
I write with ordinary words for mass consumption
With only aim that it may find some resumption
To start with a day and leave its outcome
To the readers and well wishers to welcome
I may be novice with many subjects
But can relate well with ideological act
I swim and sink with whatever I write
Mind is crystal clear with no wrangles to fight
I shall adore her (goddess for inspiration) picture
That provides me tomorrow's instinct for feature
That vision is almost impossible to convince
If readers fail to create an interest to evince
It shall matter less or have no significance
But rarely it may be forgotten if read once
That much confidence I have when written
See the thousands of people with an urge to ignite
Words may never vanish from the page
Sometimes may be read for coming of an age
Youngsters may read and elders just laugh
As it was in their time that I had glorious half
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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When I feel it my duty to speak an unpalatable truth, with the help of God, I will speak it, though it be to the prejudice of my name and to the detriment of my readers immediate pleasure as well as my own.
quote by Anne Bronte
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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yes, what if God does not speak english at all?
you were not born yesterday
and probably heard it before
that if your God does not speak english
then he must not be God
of course, something arrogant
hangs in the air
of this effortless superiority that
'englishers'
'english-plongplangs'
clai m, which, of course, we
always oppose and dub
as prettry dumb silly
but anyhow, yes, we are asked again
what if?
what if, this God, does not really speak English?
well, of course, he is still God
and he must not have considered the english language
that important
and i agree, even if i speak it,
i still have this language
of my soul,
albeit, in english, for you,
who does not speak my own language,
yes, of course, for you to perhaps
understand,
but i like it though, this thought
that God does not speak
the english language, lest, he may sound
so englishly, oh well,
arrogant.....
dear God
do you really...not speak english?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Write me a lyric
Write me a poem
Write me a lyric
Write me a song
that my soul might sing
Speak to me of wonder
Speak to me of joy
Speak to me of friendship
That would be a special thing
Take me to the high places
The high places of your soul
teach me of the spirit
The dreams that keep you whole
And then if you turn your back
I will understand
We are all fleeting spirits
in an awesome divine plan
poem by Ludvig Von Himmelstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Speak The Word
Unsettled hearts
Promise what they cant deliver
Bring me the wine
And the cold night air to clear my head
Gray matter memory house
Master of this trembling flesh
Steady still my doubts
Let me speak the word that precedes bliss
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
These weakened knees
Have not touched ground or pew in ages
I havent bowed my head
I offer thanks to any God or to ask for favors
But watch me now
Im falling down
Praying
To speak the word that precedes bliss
To speak the word
To speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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