If the urge to write should ever leave me, I want that day to be my last.
quote by Naguib Mahfouz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Which disturbs the world?
Man has as much urge to leave his footprints
As he has to leave his child in the world.
It is his urge to make something about him
That disturbs the balance of the world.
02.01.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Questions
Write me what you're wearing! Is it warm?
Write me how you lie! Do you lie there softly?
Write me how you look! Is it still the same?
Write me what you're missing! Is it my arm?
Write me how you are! Have you been spared?
Write me what they're doing! Do you have enough courage?
Write me what you're doing! Is it good?
Write me, who are you thinking of? Is it me?
Freely, I've given you only my questions.
And I hear the answers, how they fall.
When you're tired, I can't carry it for you.
If you're hungry, I have nothing for you to eat.
And so now I leave the world
No longer there, as if I've forgotten you.
poem by Bertolt Brecht
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No, I think that a person writes a poem because they have an inner urge of something that they want to express, and I think it's that inner urge that you want to express when you write a piece of music.
quote by Leo Ornstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To relieve the urge is the urge.
You feel relieved
when the urge to eat is met.
You feel relieved
When the urge to drink is met.
The same relief you get,
When the urge to purge out
And the urge to pee are met.
Releasing the urge is the pleasure.
24.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Urges of lust
Sexual urge meets with the coitus.
Carnal urge meets with the bites.
Bio-urge meets with the impregnation.
Psycho-sex urge meets with the child-care
And socio-sex urge meets with self welfare.
Lust is the force behind.
Lust is the source for all forces.
25.12.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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No feather from Woeperdal
No feather from Woeperdal,
no fox’s hair that falls somewhere,
no African marigolds in the spring sun
urge me to be as much in love
as you can.
I’ll rather write to you about flowers
and the curves of your body,
than putting African marigolds in a posy
and mocking other poets.
White, yellow, crimson and any flower’s
colour and smell let me be wordless
and petals leave on leave is nothing
to you coming to my garden
and matchless you are there.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Urge To Merge
Written by Pam Reswick, Steve Werfel
Though I think I really know you
And you think you know me
And we're as close at two people
Could ever hope to be
Still I can't escape the feeling
That no matter what I do
I'll never understand what it feels like to be you
I get the urge to know you better
To make our spirits one
I want to see us be together
As close as we can come
I get the urge to merge
I get the urge to merge with you
I get the urge to merge
I get the urge to merge with you
Have you ever wanted something
You just had to possess
And it turned into obsession
And wouldn't let you rest
There are times I can't help wishing
I could melt right into you
Hear every word you're thinking
Feel everything you do
I feel trapped inside my body
And there's nothing I can do
Want to leap across the wall
That's keeping me from you
To break what can't be broken
To say what can't be spoken
If only for a moment
To touch your soul
I get the urge to know you better
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Cursed Gift
I wish I didn't know how to write,
Or how to use a pen.
I wish this skill was forbidden,
The greatest of all sin.
I wish I didn't know how to think,
Or how to use my mind.
If they took it all away,
These words I would not find.
I wish I didn't know how to love,
Or even how to break.
Both of these leave me in fear,
In which I write as I shake.
So take this all away,
Leave me empty in my heart.
I do not want to write again,
It's tearing me apart.
poem by Adam McKim
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Tracks I Leave Behind
We leave tracks in everything we do
and as a writer; I leave tracks
within everything I write.
Little bits of me within the lines
as I write along.
Sometime in the future
people will read what I write
and find the little bits of me.
They will find my sorrows and my joy,
the love that burns within my heart
and the sorrows in my soul.
They are all in there within
the tracks that I leave behind.
Sometimes fiction can be more fact
and if you read the signs,
you will see the way I act.
There is something of me
in all the tracks I leave behind.
27 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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My Last Poem
Soon the time will come
when I will write my last poem.
It is a matter of choice
than a matter of necessity.
I have almost reached the maker
when I will stop for a while
and do something different
in stories and novels.
I am not giving up completely
as I will write one
from time to time,
but not as I have been doing
in every spare minute I get.
Instead, I will write them
when the urge catches me,
but I haven’t reached that marker yet.,
so you’ll just have to suffer me
a little longer more.
29 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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Perhaps Just To Myself Alone.....
perhaps to leave a mark
of what i am
i must leave a memory of
us,
but it is not just possible
there is no us
we're like lovers who
got entangled in the arms of
foreign cities
so perhaps to leave a mark
without us
i can just write and write
anything i wish
anything i can imagine that
could have been a possibility
or perhaps i can tell you
that the best i can do is to accept
that without you my life
can still be a beautiful thought
whatever,
i still must a leave a mark
a kiss on the earth's surface
that perhaps you can
feel
sometimes i laugh at myself
awed by the
wonders of my
own grasping about what is this
loneliness
all about
perhaps after i have crossed this
border
i shall remember
perhaps alone i can smile in the
mirror
and then finally
tell it all
whatever, perhaps just to myself alone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Write And Write And Write And Write
I WRITE AND WRITE AND WRITE AND WRITE
I write and write and write and write
I write and write and write and write
I write.
And all this writing and all these words and all I am
Forever unheard.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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What I want to write
What I want to write
I could not write.
I could not write
Tiger tiger cat cat
And the difference they behaved.
I could not write
The sky and its fall
On our forehead.
What I want to write
I could not write.
I write how I loved
How flower blosom
How fruit ripe
How stream flow.
I could not know
How I write
And I write
What I want to write
I could not write.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Why Do I Write
I write from my sadness
I write from the madness
I write because I have something to say
I write to pass the day
I write only from the heart
I write for sometimes I am not that smart
Whatever is in head just comes out on paper (in this case a word document) , and I go with the flow
Write to let my mind go
I follow my hand to where ever it takes me
I write all the things that I can see
I write when I am happy, but not as much
I write from my heart that you can touch
I write because I’d go insane
I am driven to write quell my pain
At times I feel alone so I write what I am feeling
I write for it is self-healing
Confident not so I write it all away
I write and write to pass the day
I write to comfort my soul that cries out in the night
I write for love is always out of sight
I write so I don't have to cry any more
I write for I have no one to adore
I write so someone somewhere will hear my plea
I write for someone is out there for me
I am lost and I the clown
I write to turn my frown upside down
I write to embrace the sadness I hide inside
I write with my heart opened wide
I write to silence the ghost
I write for I’ve been let down by the one I loved the most
I write through the stormy weather
I write for I am light as a feather
I am not a writer nor am I a poet
I write for the grief I do know it
I will write until I draw my last breath
I write because I'll die a lonely death
I have to write for strangers delight
I write because I have to write
I write for my own happiness
I write to relieve my stress
I write because I have no other choice
I write as if I was writing a letter
I write because I can’t do any better
I write because I am afraid not to
I write for this is what I do
I write for I give a damn
I write just because I am
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Places To Inspire
There are places in this world,
that when you are there inspire
you to do things
associated with that place.
Some are artistic and others of prayer.
I have been to both
and the validity of those words I can swear.
Once I went to Knock
the most holy place in Ireland.
A place where serenity
hangs over everything.
A feeling of something beautiful
comes over you.
That you never want to leave.
Another place is Stratford,
the birthplace of the bard.
Any would be poet,
can’t help to be inspired there.
It has to be something in the air.
Words just keep forming lines in your head,
and urge you to write them down.
Therefore, you feed your compulsion
and a new poem is found.
So if you are feeling,
the need to write, but can’t.
Go to Stratford on Avon,
and change the situation around.
You will find yourself inspired,
under the eyes of the bard,
when you follow the Shakespeare way.
2 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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Write Me
Aerosmith
Write Me
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
I said, the ways of the night are evil with eyes that love the day,
but I'll never never never never never get so far away.
I said write me, write me, write me.
I said write me, write me, write me.
Well there's nothin' I can see that'd ever make
me want to be without her she's good, she's good to me.
Said there's no way to explain the kind of feeling
that you get out in the rain she's good, she's good to me.
See this emptiness inside it makes me scream
it make me crawl out of my high, she's good, she's good to me.
I love her.
Write me a letter, write me a letter, write it today, I'm goin' away.
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
Well I've been so many places hidin' from the wind and the rain,
But you could write me a letter for to save me from a goin' insane.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Don't write me baby.
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Write
Write, keep writing lot
Write, write before you forget
Write, make it as reminder
Write, write before words disappear
Write, for you to contemplate
Write, write before your mind changed
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Why I Write?
I write poems for myself and I write for the readers
I write for the masses and I write for the leaders
I write to imprint my thoughts in people's mind
I write to make the bad guys helpful and kind
I write to light up our path to Great God
I write for everyone home and abroad
I write to preserve values new and old
I write to make my ink precious like gold
I write for peace and I write for progress
I write to make the world a better place
All major issues I want to address
I write to see smile on God's face
poem by Asif Andalib
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They Say No One Can
there is an urge
inside me
to let something out
and free
it so i can breathe
a little and
live fully
alive
i want to see
your face
i need it
for me to become
who i am
but there is another
landscape in my
heart
that opens a path
logically i do not
want it
but my feet are already
there
treading upon
its grass
so green and fresh
so lovely
and airy
and much to my
desire for lust
i hold you with
finality and then
leave you
there is this urge
that the mind
cannot control and which
the heart is
really fond of
this is the one
that i want to understand for now
i wish i dislike it
but i can't
they say
no one can
and that is what
old literature
has been
declaring
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Keep On Writing Baby
keep on writing baby
just keep on writing
feel the urge inside your heart
let it out
let it go and follow it where it may lead you
don't just dream baby
early this morning do not just dream
write that dream and see what it promises you
write it in stone
and when this dream comes back to you
ask it if it is true
show the stone
can it deny you the truth of what you write
in that stone?
hear the words: 'your wish my dear is granted! '
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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