Mysteries I read for fun, so I will probably never write one, for fear of spoiling the fun.
quote by Fred Saberhagen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wing Pages Of The Butterfly
at the nursery
while people
are at purchase
and at transactions
a blue butterfly
comes by
and opens its pages to me
swift and quick
and it says to me:
'Read! Read!
Read my pages! '
'I can’t read, '
I say,
amused
at this brash butterfly
'Read and write!
Read and write
about me,
and all flitting butterflies
Read
and write, you silly! '
it commands
And so I read
and I copy
and these are the words
the words from those
pages
the butterfly
holds up to me
poem by Raj Arumugam
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~ O' Poetry I Read I Write ~
~ O' POETRY I READ I WRITE ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
29 December,2009.
Poetry ~
I read I read I read
Without asking,
Knowing why?
Poetry ~
I write I write I write
Without asking,
Knowing why?
O' Poetry ~
Read n’ write
To share
Dare n’ bare,
Don’t care
Love to dye
By
Hi and fie.
.
O' Poetry ~
Life I buy
Never sell bye bye
All I’ll do until I die
Lo! I’m no hi-fi.
----
Copyright reserved by the author
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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My Education
At school I sometimes read a book,
And learned a lot of lessons;
Some small amount of pains I took,
And showed much acquiescence
In what my masters said, good men!
Yet after all I quite
Forgot the most of it: but then
I learned to write.
At Lincoln's Inn I'd read a brief,
Abstract a title, study
Great paper-piles, beyond belief
Inelegant and muddy:
The whole of these as time went by
I soon forgot: indeed
I tried to: yes: but by and by
I learned to read.
By help of Latin, Greek and Law
I now can write and read too:
Then perish each forgotten saw,
Each fact I do not need too:
But still whichever way I turn
At one sad task I stick:
I fear that I shall never learn
Arithmetic.
poem by James Kenneth Stephen
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Even if you only want to write science fiction, you should also read mysteries, poetry, mainstream literature, history, biography, philosophy, and science.
quote by Walter Jon Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Is Sleepless, She Is Probing
They read your lines
They perhaps like you
They try to read you
In between
she is sleepless
And she pities you
she is probing
And she writes for you too
And you feel so honored
Comes our arrogance
You say you write
Only for yourself
For art’s sake
You say you cannot
Write for no other
You say you cannot
Stop writing
Your essence is just that
To write for no other
To write or you die
Be kind
Let them read you through the night
Let them follow you
Warn them though
They may have followed
A blind man eking his way through
His darkness
Without even a cane to feel his way.
The Virgin Mary
And Veronica
The crying mother
And the cloth to wipe a bloody face
Don’t stretch further
There is no Christ in me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Writing Poetry
Some people write poetry
to fulfil their dream,
others write it as a personal diary.
While yet more write to protest.
Some write sonnets
for unfrequented love.
Some bring laughter
to sad faces somewhere,
while others dwell on memories
that they would like to share.
Some write of love, while
others write of God.
Write as you will on anything,
but the main point is that you write,
and give joy to all that will read.
poem by David Harris
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And I will write
Is it loneliness…
Is it fear?
Is it of lost love
That you wish to hear?
Is it happiness?
Is it of light?
That makes you read…
Into the night
Please tell me…
For I have need
of your interest…
and insight.
Please tell me
For I want you
to want to read…
what I write
…And I will.
poem by David Whalen
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One can't write without having read - you have to read before beginning to write - and universities offer a very good opportunity to read.
quote by Nathalie Sarraute
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And I My Poem/I Could Not Write
AND I MY POEM/ COULD NOT WRITE
And I my poem
Could not write
Because I heard
Another light.
And fear and far
So deep in me
Distanced my Eternity.
But suddenly my soul in strain
Heard its song once again
And for this little interval
I dare not let myself be still
Instead I’ll laugh and sing again
And play and pray
Until my end -
And nothing in this night or death
Will ever let my mind forget
That I need God
Whatever I do
God and me and also you.
Read read this little poem I pray
This is my blessing for this day.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The depth of reading
To know I read; to learn I read.
To teach I read; to write I read.
To praise or criticize I read.
Atheists have known of religion
Deeper than theists have known.
01.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Who Dreams Multiple Mysteries?
would you believe phenomenon if I told truth
I dream multiple poems those I wake to write
message meaning manifestation set unique
perfection I dream yet awake forget cannot
write as if bliss cosmic mysteries cannot exist
within woken world where other values egos
rule within materialism which places no value
on spiritual enlightenment evolution struggles
on hidden universal mysteries never fear seek
out research into missing dark matter enter an
unknown unseen dimension hidden existence
know I wait until you join search cosmic unity
behold bliss wonderment which awaits there
would you believe miracle if I told seen truth?
unknown unseen dimension hidden quantum existence
behold bliss wonderment awaits exploration observation
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Would Like It Better If
If I wrote to be liked,
I would not be read.
And I do like that some read,
What I write!
But I would like it better,
If I was fed...
By what it is I've said that is written...
And read by those who read what I wrote!
Finding a nibble to afford,
Liked And nourishes...
To feed the reader something read,
Coming from this writer's head!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Write Poetry
I write not poetry for the poor
for tears from their swelled up eyes
smudge and erase my words,
I write poetry not for the rich
for the splotches from their fat and cheese
hide my lines of wise,
I write poetry for not men to read
for in their skirmishes, poems are trashes
like beans spilled in pond full of slush,
I write poetry for the men not to read
for poems are little words, little music
little cry that the men cant touch or destroy,
poem by Saranyan Bee
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A Poet To Be
A poet I claim not to be,
For words are never there.
In all the years I've tried to write,
I have no words to share.
I sit and think but nothing comes,
No inspiration here.
I want to write of anything,
But still no words I fear.
I read the works of other poets,
I wish I were like them.
How do they write such beautiful lines,
A poet, I'm not him.
I try to write from the heart,
From deep within my soul.
I try to write of the love I have,
But cannot reach my goal.
But why I ask, why can't I write,
Of love so pure and true.
Why can't I write about her eyes,
A mix of green and blue.
I want to write about her smile,
It brightens up my day.
I try to think of anything,
But words I cannot say.
I wish I knew how to write,
A poem with such bliss.
I wish I knew how to describe,
Her soft but tender kiss.
I cannot even begin to write,
How she holds me tight.
How her arms around me,
Makes everything just right.
A poet does not have to think,
The words flow right out.
When I sit and try to write,
I want to scream and shout.
I mean come on, how hard can it be,
To write about her hair.
Such long beautiful natural blonde,
That flows in the air.
I try to write about her laugh,
The words will not fly.
Time passes and finally,
I say it's soft and high.
It's been an hour and a half,
I'm here on verse twelve.
I had to go to Rhymezone,
To find out the rhyme is shelve.
A poet does not do that,
Go online to find a rhyme.
A poet has it in his head,
And can write at any time.
But a poet I am not,
For I cannot write of love.
How the girl I am with,
Is an angel from up above.
How I love her with all my heart,
And want to spend my life with her.
How her love for me is more,
Than I can ever be for sure.
As I draw near the end,
My mind is not so numb.
I realize I've just written of love,
A poet I have become.
poem by Adam McKim
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A Strange Desire
I wish I could write a word,
Out of multitude of thousands,
That might raise my mettle,
And be recognized at the first glance.
The naughty hope whispering
Tells me time and again,
“Write, write and write more, ”
Some one should tell me how long,
I should write for writing,
Made me half dead.
The disjoint, disordered, paralyzed,
The dumb, deaf and mute words,
Give no voice, no sound and no sense,
They neither unlock their lips,
Nor convey my inner self.
Oh! God;
Give me a word alive and spirited,
That should share my joys, my worries,
Laugh, joke, play and ply with me,
Open the door of mysteries,
And in my absence respond at,
My name is addressed by someone else.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Writing Verse
It's hard to think on what to say.
I've written so much on every day.
I've taken liberties with my pen,
Indulged in fantasies over and again.
I've tried my best to conquer fear.
I've also tried to bring a tear
To the eyes of those that read what I write
whether it's of misery or grand delight.
For sensitivity is needed in everyone.
For the best of all can come undone
when man or woman cannot cry
or forget what it's like to feel a sigh.
And so my friends I write for you
about all of the things folks go through.
When I retire this pen of mine
I'll do it with gratitude for every line.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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When I Write
When I write,
I do my best...
To incite an insight!
Some may not like.
But I seek a comprehension.
Not to revisit...
A safety zone,
Already known.
Or one that has been mentioned.
And when I write,
I choose to test...
A curiosity,
Within me...
That does not sit and rest.
I want to produce seeds of understanding.
And in the doing...
Even I am not thoroughly delighted,
By what I have to admit...
Is a bunch of 'horseshhhiftivities'
From that which I have sown.
When I write!
'Horseshiftivities is not a word! '
I've entitled this poem 'When-I-Write'
Not 'Give-me-Your-Unsolicited-Opinion'.
'Did you or did you 'not' ask me to read it? '
AND not a thing more did I ask!
Did I?
'Correct.'
But you must admit,
That 'horseshifting' business drew you in,
Right?
'No,
Not really.
I knew if I didn't read it...
You wouldn't allow me to leave.
Then I would have to deal with much more,
Than just this 'horseshift' on your shoulders! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Take My Poems With Me Wherever I Go
I take my poems with me wherever I go-
I write and read them inside myself
Sometimes I try to recall them and cannot
And most are forgotten
And live elsewhere on pages little or never read -
But inside myself
I have poems
I write and rewrite
Read and reread.
I am poems
And wherever I go they are with me
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Faces
I cant read faces but i can read yours;
I know it when youre sad or happy,
not through your smile but through your eyes;
and the lines of your forehead,
and the lines of your cheeks...
they tell your secrets and then mystery unfolds.
The beauty of your chin...and the lines of your lips,
they tell me of something that hasn't been told.
Sometimes you laugh, but you're empty inside...
sometimes you frown, but your heart glowed with pride.
Sometimes serious, but your face
has something to hide.
I know coz your eyes tell me everything,
everything within your soul.
You have so many faces...
and i wonder if the world knows.
I wonder if they can read them,
or see what you conceal..
I wonder if they can see your mysteries...
secrets to steal.
And i wonder if they can look into
your eyes like open doors.
I know i cant read faces...
but i can read yours.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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I Read A Poem I Could Not Write
I READ A POEM I COULD NOT WRITE
I read a Poem I could not write
And then I wrote it down.
I left it long alone
Forgot where it was found.
Somehow it came back to me
In another time,
I had never written it
The Truest poems, not mine.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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