All I knew was that I was writing something out of my very guts, and that I was content.
quote by Winston Graham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
They write to vent.
With no guts to battle,
Homer vented his valour
In writing the Iliad.
Shakespeare spat his passion
In writing the Romeo and Juliet
And lust in Antonio and Cleopatra..
Catharsis is the writers’ asylum.
17.05.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The beauty of the mother
I may have guts to defy my mother.
I’ve guts to ignore and neglect her
But no guts could I muster to insult her.
That is the beauty of the mother.
01.11.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Talent is helpful in writing, but guts are absolutely necessary.
quote by Jessamyn West
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I believe that the brain has evolved over millions of years to be responsive to different kinds of content in the world. Language content, musical content, spatial content, numerical content, etc.
quote by Howard Gardner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Fate
Writing poetry and writing music
and the creation of the rhyme
fills my days but not my heart
and allows for the passage of time.
Then just what is it that you want?
The act should content you now.
Tell that to my heart, dear one.
Make it understand somehow.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Writing is a way of concentrating upon what you didn't know that you knew (upon what you knew without knowing that you knew).
Gabriel Liiceanu in Forbidden Door
Submitted by Lorena Fota
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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
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Without seeding
He desires her but no guts to get her.
She lures him but no guts to admit him.
Love blossoms and withers without seed setting.
31.05.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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As soon as I started writing Julia, by which I mean while writing its first sentence, I felt a sudden, reassuring charge of excitement. I knew it was going to work.
quote by Peter Straub
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writing On The Wall
(1)
As sorry as it seems
It can be like it used to be
We live on broken dreams
Weve given up on trying
The face I thought I always knew
The picture that Id paint of you
Your crying eyes are lying
(chorus)
Cant you see the writing on the wall
Will the ghost from the past
Show us how it used to be
Draw the line on the things we said
Let them fade away
Now youll see the writing on the wall
Oh yea, everything that used to be
Is writing on the wall
All the time we fooled ourselves
Had some fun if nothing else
But oh our little world was dying
(1)(chorus)
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Idiot
Please remember me forever
Believe in me as someone
Who's never gonna wish you well
I'm gonna tell you what I think about you in that unforgivable way I do
You're an idiot
And I hate your guts
I guess I'm about as happy for you as I would be a cockroach in my food
I know it's terrible
I really hate you though
Do you have your fairytale life
Or are you dancing to the white trash [trance]
Oh please remember me
Believe in me as someone
Who's never gonna wish you well
leave
I had to [bullsh*t] love
Ooh, I hated your guts
And I heard the opposite of love isn't hate
It's indifference
But I can't relate
It's not good enough
Cuz I hate your guts
Did you sell your mediocre mind
You had to find out why you're better off with broader [lines]
CHORUS
Oh please remember me
Believe in me as someone
Who's never gonna wish you well
Oh please remember me
Believe in me as someone
Who wants you to go to hell
You're in me, you're boring
Oh, did you hear me snoring?
I don't mutilate myself when I talk to you
So tell me how did I hope you could tell that I'm no one's pearl
You can have em, go to hell
You're gonna die on us
They're gonna hate your guts
CHORUS (x2)
song performed by by Lisa Marie Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fool's Money Bags
Outside the long window,
With his head on the stone sill,
The dog is lying,
Gazing at his Beloved.
His eyes are wet and urgent,
And his body is taut and shaking.
It is cold on the terrace;
A pale wind licks along the stone slabs,
But the dog gazes through the glass
And is content.
The Beloved is writing a letter.
Occasionally she speaks to the dog,
But she is thinking of her writing.
Does she, too, give her devotion to one
Not worthy?
poem by Amy Lowell
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New Yorkers love it when you spill your guts out there. Spill your guts at Wimbledon and they make you stop and clean it up.
quote by Jimmy Connors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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America vs Germany vs India(A funny story)
In a ship the Generals of three nations were traveling with their soldiers. They started the topic that whose soldier had more of guts.
The American general called for one of his men and told him to jump down the ship and take a round swimming around the moving ship. The soldier did as he was commanded and the general boasted of by saying 'See the guts! '
Now the German general called out for one of his men and asked him to take two similar rounds. The soldier did as he was told.
When he came back from the water the German said, 'See the guts.'
Now the Indian General called out for his most courageous man, Santa and asked him to take five similar rounds.
Santa promptly replied, 'Am I your dad`s servant? '
At this the general proudly said 'See the guts'.
poem by Edwin Drood
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The Letter (iii)
Even the leather writing
case’s hinges are shot:
the strips
of hide
that bound
the lid decayed;
the lock –
a small lock
involving only a sideways
click to open it -
still works its
mechanical metal slot.
Inside the case your letter’s
yellow pages of script
slowly
rewrite
their gist,
an ideal
content –
the content
between me and you the long dead
master of sub-text –
hints at its
continuous narrative.
poem by Jacqui Thewless
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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
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Stepmother
Your stepmother hates my guts
But I dont really care
She dont like me coming around
And I show (? )
She would be you best friend
If she had it her way
She would take all your best friends
And put them away
Your stepmother hates my guts
But I dont give a damn
She thinks Im some kind of scum
Cause I dont call her now
La la la la la la
She would be you best friend
If she had it her way
Your stepmother hated my guts
But I wont give up yet
I want you so God damn much
But she sure is upset
Looking down again Im not
Gonna (? ) she is
Looking down on me again
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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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
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