Although I like the work I've done in the past, I like what I'm writing now even more.
quote by Cynthia Weil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
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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To Allen Ginsberg
I have been listening to you, Allen Ginsberg
I can still hear you whistling a radio tune
I can follow you through history thoughts of yours
flow into mine
I follow you past WWI
and through the Battle of Versailles without a second glance
Past Hitler Mao Nietzsche Reagan Gogol
past Whitman Kerouac and Carson
I watch as you nod to Ghandi
And converse with Pope Paul VI and Nelson Mandala
We drift past Central Park quickly changing seasons
past Chicago streets and cute little back country California homes
I watch the death of many a thing beside you
i watch you connect you think you
Writing Howl, writing America, writing Death & Fame
I watch yourself deteriorate in body
but flourish in mind
and as you flourish i flourish
And we grow together and I follow you
and then you vanish
into the grape vines at the back of the fence
poem by Lex Newman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I Write About Giving Up Writing
WHEN I WRITE ABOUT GIVING UP WRITING
When I write about giving up writing,
I am not giving it up
I am instead trying to find another justification for continuing-
I am not giving up then-
If the whole effort is futile
If in the end it will mean nothing
If I despair of it even as I continue it
Still
I will not give up.
I cannot give up.
What else do I have, after all, except the writing?
After all these years of giving my life to it
What other work could ever mean so much?
Even if I fail in it
It is who I am
And what I can do.
I am writing again now
What else can I do?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Faithfulness to the past can be a kind of death above ground. Writing of the past is a resurrection; the past then lives in your words and you are free.
quote by Jessamyn West
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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I work very hard on the writing, writing and rewriting and trying to weed out the lumber.
quote by David McCullough
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Four Letter 'Work' Song
Work me up, work me out, work me flip side down.
Work me here, work me there, work me with renown.
Work me hot, work me greedy,
work me through and through.
Work me to the very marrow,
work me just like I'd work you.
Work me proud, work me late,
work me do not hesitate.
Won't you let me work for you?
Work me til I'm black and blue.
Work me steady, work me needy, work me to a lather.
Work me til my backbone breaks, and the buzzards gather.
Work me in, work me under, work me til I bleed,
Work me over red hot coals, work me like a boss in need.
Work me nasty, work me silly, work me through the clover.
Up down, 'n' in between, into a slipknot sweet Jehovah.
Work me, work me, go ahead.
Work me, work me, til I'm dead.
Buddy Bee Anthony
poem by Buddy Bee Anthony
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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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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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A Hectic Day
Work is inevitable
Work is accumulative
Work is strenuous
Work is living
A good work represents a good life
A well lived life is a balance
A balance between work & play
Is a life worth living!
Thus it begins my enthusiasm
For compilation of workloads
To be effective & efficient
To complete it I shall stop
Writing this poem!
poem by Jeline Loh
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No one likes to work for free. To copy an artist's work and download it free is stealing. It's hard work writing and recording music, and it's morally wrong to steal it.
quote by Gary Wright
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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I don't know much about creative writing programs. But they're not telling the truth if they don't teach, one, that writing is hard work, and, two, that you have to give up a great deal of life, your personal life, to be a writer.
quote by Doris Lessing
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Payment
A tortuous path of neurons arced a call: ‘Awake! ’
I did; in rising, peering, stretching, bearing,
Pained anticipation saw it all:
Foretold, another filthy day.
I drew the drape: diluvian lay the ground
Beneath a lazy leaden cloud – apissing out
The puddles; irksome on the roof –
The drumming drops of bitter glee
Were hounding out a hapless me –
Reinforcing doubt that I am sound.
I left the house
to go to work
to earn a crust
without a perk
then on to bust
another straining vessel.
Trudging on thro’ mud and clay, I pondered:
‘Why a drought of happy times?
Auspicious climes were
Old and fusty books
Atop a dusty shelf
Inside a morgue-of-a-room,
Somewhere in a long-forgotten library
Down a lane without a way.’
I thought again: ‘And still I pay.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
O how I
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I enjoy writing, sometimes; I think that most writers will tell you about the agony of writing more than the joy of writing, but writing is what I was meant to do.
When I'm writing about reality, I'm writing about death. When I'm writing fiction, I'm writing about life.
quote by Ralph Peters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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