Action is greater than writing. A good man is a nobler object of contemplation than a great author. There are but two things worth living for: to do what is worthy of being written; and to write what is worthy of being read.
quote by Ross Perot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Worthy
you think you're not worthy
I'd have to say I agree
I'm not worthy of you
you're not worthy of me
which of us is deserving
look at the human race
the whole planet at arm's length
and we don't deserve this place
what good is a poker face
when you've got an open hand
I was supposed to be cool about this
yeah
I remember
cool was the plan
tried to keep it all under wraps
but the wraps kept going slack
I keep turning round
I keep coming back
give me a vertical
your horizontal line
I want to take each of them
bend them to divine
the world is too good for me
I am such a naughty girl
but when we're together
we're too good for this world
you think you're not worthy
I'd have to say I agree
I'm not worthy of you
you're not worthy of me
I'm not worthy of you
you aren't worthy of me...
song performed by by Ani DiFranco from Not A Pretty Girl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angel That You Are.
you are special you are sweet you are everything that is neat and everything that you think you are nothing that is bad just everything that is kind and soft and great and worthy of a great remembrance may your name be echoed into infinity and beyond and still enough kick to bounce to heavens forth and back again your personality is that of two things great and even greater you know how to make one smile when things are great but u know how to make one always feel like they can be better when things are greater like how supermans only weakness is near kryptonite is like how i feel by knowing u are sad and would want to do super things to make u smile and make everything feel whole again good luck and good bless .... i miss you.
poem by Dorian Suchelle
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On My Worth As A Writer
On my worth as a writer I do cast great doubt
Though one could never run out of things to write about
And poetasters are many and poets they are rare
Yet so much to write on of the big World out there
One can say I've written a whole heap of stuff
Yet out of millions of writers few are good enough
To make a success out of the wordsmith trade
So many there are and so few make the grade
Not many writers the literary critics impress
And so few out of writing become a success
For every literary success of which we do read
So many are destined to never succeed
And only a tiny minority do make writing pay
But then such is life as some are known to say.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Many Can Teach Few Can Write
many can teach and be good teachers
some even aspiring excellent teachers
but few can image write wondrous words
who are now waiting among
those who have words worth writing
words waiting to be written?
writing will cost much
demanded much
then will cost yet more
a small fortune in wages
wages spent not made
still to be spent and yet
accumulative cost is nothing
for there are hunger hearts
minds waiting for these words
looking even searching
for quest sought words
therefore it matters not
if for a specific poem
or passage paragraph
only a few or one is searching
these thoughts
are important
still must be written
some of what we write
even much of what we write
is of no prime importance
but that small portion
which is important
that tiny potent seed
which is important
must be written
translate many can translate
some even translate
almost perfectly precise
but those writing
original thoughts
are far more precious
and their words
will also in their time
be sought after read
but there time is not yet
that which is not
written cannot
be read
therefore write
write
and write well
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Doubts (About Myself)
No matter what people say?
I am good at what I do
I still have my doubts
Of whom they say I am
It drives me so crazy
To hear the positive
And the good
I keep asking myself
Am I really that good?
Am I worthy to be here?
Am I really any good?
I know it sounds so silly
Thinking negative
In what I do
But when I read others
Poetry and stanzas
I know this to be true
Their poetry so damn good
Am I worthy to be here?
Am I any good?
poem by Kaila George
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The Poem I Cannot Write/ Is The Poem Beyond My Own Poetry
THE POEM I CANNOT WRITE/ IS THE POEM BEYOND MY OWN POETRY
The poem I cannot write
Is the poem beyond my own poetry -
It is greater than what I am capable of -
It surprises in ways my awkward phrases cannot
It is complex beyond my simple simplicity
It has an infectious beauty
That demands to be recited again and again -
It lingers in the mind and memory
As a strange new beauty beyond anything done by anyone else before.
The poem I cannot write
Has been written will be written
By those greater than myself-
I have the great blessing
Of being able to read them
But I cannot join them
Despite a lifetime of trying.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Worthy
Worthy
No greater Love was ever shown
No wider Mercy was ever given
Than that through Jesus became known
And by Him, Grace had flowed to Man.
Worthy indeed is the Lamb of God
Boundless praise to Him is due
Worship in hearts and in spirits glad
Eternal God, His Word is true!
Worthy of our love and adoration
His promises sustain the weakened soul
His Power holds in our earthly affliction
His loving forgiveness will make us whole!
Worthy to dwell in us for eternity
He is the King of kings, LORD of lords
As He purifies us to make us holy
He is glorified in us, so says His Word!
'I am confident of this, that He Who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus, our
LORD.'
PHILIPPIANS 1: 6
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Praise Your Holy Name
For all youve done -- Thank you
With my hands, I applaud the maker of creation, Holy Father
With my mouth, I extol, shouts of jubilation, Hallelujah
(You satisfy my hearts desire) With many good things,
I gotta thank ya
(You redeemed my very life) To you my heart sings
(With everything, I lift you up high)
(Let everything within praise your holy name )
With everything I,
(With everything, I lift you up high)
Lift you up Lord,Everything within me
(Let everything within praise Your holy name)
With the dance, I will praise, rejoicing in my Savior
Oh Lord, Youve been good
For Your everlasting love and unmerited favor,
Grace and mercy to me
(The Glory of Your majesty), even the skies have to display,
Yeah, yeah
(Day and night, and night and day) Youre worthy of praise
(With everything, I lift you up high)
I lift you, oh Lord I thank you, I gotta praise your Holy Name
(with everything I lift you up high)
I lift you Lord, so wonderful, I gotta, (praise your name)
Everything I do I wanna do it all for you
Let me be calm when Im there, praising your holy name
I wanna lift you up so high for the world to see
(Bridge)
I lift my hands, my hands I raise
To give You glory, to give You praise
I wanna live, so I can give all of my service unto You
Because Youre worthy Oh Lord your worthy
Oh yes, Youre worthy, worthy of the praise,
And the honor and the glory
And all majesty belongs to you.
With everything I do, everywhere I go,
I gotta tell everybody about your goodness,
About your goodness, about your goodness
Oh yeah, Yeah, youve been good, Lord,
Youve been good Lord, Youve been good Lord
You've been good Oh
Better to me, better to me, better to me than I could ever
be to myself
Youve been good Lord, thats why I thank you, thats why I praise ya
Hey
My hands are lifted, my voice is raised, to give you glory,
to give you praise
Huh, huh, praise ya,Huh, huh, praise ya
Oh I praise ya, Oh I praise ya
Oh, only you Lord, Only You Lord
Only you are worthy of the glory
You are worthy of the honor, uh, of the honor
You are worthy, worthy, worthy, worthy, worthy
I praise you, I lift ya, Magnify ya,
Because you are worthy of the praise.
song performed by by Yolanda Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Not Worthy Of The Poem I Would Write
I AM NOT WORTHY OF THE POEM I WOULD WRITE
I am not worthy of the poem I would write -
I do not have the Beauty or Goodness in me
Which I would give to others-
I cannot now do what I should do in poetry-
Why then do I write this?
I am trying to live and this is what gives me hope now.
A poem as a remedy even if only for a few hours.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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If I Could Pen One Worthy Lyric
If I knew I had penned one worthy lyric that would outlive me by more than a day
Then I'd be happy at this very minute to give penning of doggerel away
I'd say to myself I've written something of value to call it quits now seems the time
For too long I've put too much effort into penning of doggerel rhyme.
The beautiful song of the shrike thrush in the morning breeze comes to me
He whistles in the nearby Woodlet I know his song though him I can't see
He cares not for fame or for success content in his own territory
His gift of song he'll pass on to his offsprings to insure his immortality.
Around his borders in the breeding season he whistles and sings all day long
His greatest gift from Mother Nature the gift of a beautiful song
His song will live on in his children when from the Woodlet he has gone
If I could pen one worthy lyric my legacy too would live on.
If I could pen one worthy lyric I would gladly give rhyming away
But perhaps I will keep penning doggerel right up until my dying day
In hope of writing something of value that others may read and enjoy
Like the poems of the immortal poets that I read in school as a boy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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To be a writer
They say, when you have nothing to say
Do not say anything
They say when you have nothing good to say
Do not say anything
He is not convinced
He wants to be a writer and to be one he must write
What is in his mind
To be a writer he must write and write and write
Even when there is nothing to write
Even when there is nothing to say even when nobody listens
Even when the word is dead even when there is no sense at all
Even when he gets blind and deaf and mute even when his fingers are cut even when his mind is blank even when his consciousness is lost
Even when you are angry even when you say what is written is nothing
But trash, dung, cadaver, corpse, poo, pee, even when there is nothing
Anymore,
He writes because he is a writer and no one can stop him now.
he is
he is writing
he is writing always
he is writing always whatever that needs to be written
and here you are foolishly reading. thanks to you, audience of one.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Words to Inspire
Sometimes someones words inspire us
to do things better than we do.
Sometimes we read something,
and the content suggests something
more than what was written down.
We write about what inspired us
and find we’ve gone on to greater things.
(To my good friend Francesca Johnson Who will know what I mean/12 July 2007)
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Mirror Image
How many times when reading a book,
do we identify with the characters within?
Their traits they have we share,
their loves and heartaches
their lives go through somehow mirror our own.
It’s as if the author was writing about us.
As though he has put us under a microscope
and then writing down everything, he saw.
However, we know this isn’t so
because he or she has written
segments of their own life
and by accident they happen to mirror ours.
Every writer will tell you
that they have their characters under control.
Having written numerous novels,
I know the characters take on a life of their own
and do what they want to do.
We become their instrument as they guide us on our way.
We end up writing what they want us to say.
To every writer his characters are real,
they live, breathe and feel.
The more you write about them,
the more alive they become.
So the next time you pick up a book
and the characters seem real,
they probably are to the author
who looks after them.
24 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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Do Not Read This Poem
do not ever read this poem
this poem is containing a virus
and once you read it
you get infected by it,
do not continue reading this
stop at this point.... here....
-nothing follows-
sorry, but you are already
infected by this poem
the cure however is there,
read it back and when you arrive
at the last word
thank yourself, you are worthy of the title
gullible like the author....(ha ha ha)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Are Holy
You are holy (you are holy)
You are mighty (you are mighty)
You are worthy (you are worthy)
Worthy of praise (worthy of praise)
I will follow (I will follow)
I will listen (I will listen)
I will love you (I will love You)
All of my days (all of my days)
Chorus:
I will sing to
And worship
The King who is worthy
I will love and adore Him
And I will bow down before Him
And I will sing to and worship the King who is worthy
And I will love and adore him
And I will bow down before Him
You're my prince of peace
And I will live my life for You
(Girls behind guys:)
You are lord of lords
You are king of kinds
You are mighty God
Lord of everything
You are Emmanuel
Lord of great I am
Noble prince of peace
Who is the lamb
You are the saving god
You are my saving grace
You will reign forever
You are ancient and great
You are alpha, omega, beginning and end
You are my savior, messiah, redeemer, and friend
(Both:)
You are my prince of peace and I will live my life for you.
You are holy (you are holy)
You are mighty (you are mighty)
You are worthy (you are worthy)
Worthy of praise (worthy of praise)
I will follow (I will follow)
I will listen (I will listen)
I will love you (I will love You)
All of my days (all of my days)
Chorus X2
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poem I Am Writing Now
The poem I am writing now
does not know if it will be finished
it does not even know if it will be a poem -
it is slowly appearing line by line
and making its own meaning on the page-
Is it worth anything?
will anyone care?
I don't know -
The poem I am writing now
is just these lines
and these lines like all lines
are only small words
in a vast universe
that has long lived
and will probably longer live
without them.
Why then write these words now?
The poem I am writing now is saying,
'I am here now'.
But why should this mean anything to anyone else?
The poem I have written here
is not the poem I would have posted here
It is only the poem I am finishing now
a poem without great love or belief in itself.
The poem I am writing now
is written.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Dear Friend
i always love to write, as early as
gradeschool when we were classmates
while you were playing and chasing and stumbling
i just sat on the grass of the playground under a tree and scribble anything
and read a lot about some stories with lots of pictures
and colors of fairies and kings and queens and butterflies and bees,
i do not stop writing, in fact, writing has become my life
that without words i may die an instant death
i dream that i have written novels and stories and lots of poems
i wake up with some ideas like some seeds that i want to sow
and grow in the field and see them become shrubs and trees and forests
and i keep on this life writing and writing and writing and writing
for writing's sake and i wish i may live longer so i may write
some more, some sequels of my love stories and suspense thrillers
and write finally all the poems that are inside my mind
hanging like ripe grapes and creeping like vines on my fence
as i am writing now as you always want to read me
until such time my friend that i will die, or end my life myself (who knows?)
(i will not talk about it now, it is something bizarre and makes me
shiver, but who knows, well you know, all are but possibilities and nothing
but possibilities in this vast wide world of realities and dreams)
there is something i must say somehow
there is something that i must have forgotten, i have not written about myself
i have always written about them, about you, about the world,
please do not refuse me, stop playing with your life,
gradeschool ended
a long time ago, i have one and ultimate request:
write the story of my life, because it is you who only knows about it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Even An Old Man Does Not Wish To Read
EVEN AN OLD MAN DOES NOT WISH TO READ
Even an Old Man does not wish to read
An Old Man’s Poetry-
What is the use of bad health litanies
And endless complaints of disappointments?
And wonderings about Waste and Loss
And about Time never to return
And all one has erred in?
An Old Man longs for Beginning again.
An Old man wants what he cannot have
And wishes to be what he cannot be-
And write as if there were new worlds waiting to be found within himself
And great adventures and explorations in writing and writing and writing
An old man longs for freshness deep down things
And dry dry dry is all
Theory
And Grey his life.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I knew that if I wrote a new book every six months or every year, if I continued to read great books, eventually I would write something worthy of publication. I understood I might be in my forties or my fifties or even my sixties, but I felt confident that it would happen.
quote by Augusten Burroughs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To write what is worth publishing, to find honest people to publish it, and get sensible people to read it, are the three great difficulties in being an author.
quote by Charles Caleb Colton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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