Related quotes: What an author likes to...

What an author likes to write most is his signature on the back of a cheque.

quote by Brendan Francis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes

Cashing God

the earnestness to seek god
as if he is one's own
the only one for oneself
so that one could feel his wonder
without any preconceived idea
if he ever comes visiting - is religion
every life is a cheque written out by God
and cashing it needs one's own signature
untempered!

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh Guilt

She seems to think
She seems too weak
She takes a week to get over it
She likes the sea
She likes to see
She likes to think she has all of it
She likes the sound
She likes the sand
She likes to stand, she cant afford to sit
She likes to be
Shes into guilt
Guilt
She likes to think
She likes to drink
She seems too weak, she takes all the rent
She likes the time
She owns the time
She borrows time to self-invent
She seems too weak
She likes to see
She likes to think she has all of it
She likes the sand
She likes to stand
She likes to sit
She likes to go
Go
She likes to be
She likes to go
Go

song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh, The Guilt

She seems to think
She seems too weak
She takes a week to get over it
She likes the sea
She likes to see
She likes to think she has to alter it
She likes the sound
She likes the sand
She likes to stand, she can't afford to sit
She likes to be
She likes to be
She likes to be
She's into guilt
Go
She likes to think
She likes to drink
She seems too weak, she takes all the rent
She likes the time
She owns the time
She borrows time and has to self-invent
She seems too weak
She likes to see
She likes to think she has to alter it
She likes the sand
She likes to stand
She likes to sit
She likes to go
Go

song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh The Guilt (Outtake '93)

song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I write from instinct, from inexplicable sparkle. I don't know why I'm writing what I'm writing. Usually, I sit and I let my hands wander on my guitar. And I sing anything. I play anything. And I wait till I come across a pleasing accident. Then I start to develop it. Once you take a piece of musical information, there are certain implications that it automatically contains — the implication of that phrase elongated, contracted, or inverted or in another time signature. So you start with an impulse and go to what your ear likes.

quote by Paul Simon
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Post-Modern Poetry

The post-modern poem is the poet's surprise-
It has no agenda but its own interpretation-
It reads the ‘expressive I' as an infinite longing of the soul
To know and be known-

It writes out of many different places
But finds it difficult to call one its home-
It has many names and voices
But none speaks with an authoritative rhythm -

It is only its own alone home
And so I writing it know
It will not be found in me by those who write it as their own-

Chaos, perhaps, is its signature,
And loss of all the ancient rhythms and forms-
It wants to wander where it will as it does -

But I, I thinking back to what we were
And remembering years of reading others
Know too its voices are many even within the single self-

There is no ‘modern' anymore and no ‘post- modern' either
In the age where everything is accessible
And all is easily found and communicated
The single soul's signature cannot mean a name is real -

Only where all effort is and fails
Only where nobody really is
Only where many write and no one can really read
Perhaps beyond this
Beyond post- modern poetry
This poem too will teach Poetry how to live.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Likes To Roll

(carly simon)
Why do I try to win the love
That Ive already wooed and won
(chorus)
cause he likes to roll he likes to roll
He likes to roll he likes to roll
He takes the flower from his button hole
When he likes to roll, he likes to roll
I tend to lose my self control
When he likes to roll, he likes to roll
Here in this little sunny bay
Once a day he comes and goes
(chorus)
He likes to roll...
The moon is down but the odds are high
That seeming me, he wont pass me by
(chorus)
He likes to roll...

song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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MY BABY LIKES TO.......by Talile Ali

MY BABY LIKES TO GET BANGED
MY BABY LIKES IT A LOT
DO IT ALL DAY LONG
WITH JUST AS MANY STIFF DONGS
MY BABY LIKES TO GANG BANG
THATS WHY I WROTE THIS SONG
THATS WHY I WROTE THIS SONG

5,19,15,29
BIG, STRONG, HANDSOME, UGLY
MY BABY WANTS TO FEEL THE MONKEY'S COME
BACK TO BACK,2,3 & 4
MY BABY CAN DO SO MANY MORE
MY BABY LIKES HER SOME
MY BABY LIKES HER FUN

MY BABY LIKES TO GET BANGED
MY BABY LIKES IT A LOT
DO IT ALL DAY LONG
WITH JUST AS MANY STIFF DONGS
MY BABY LIKES TO GANG BANG
THATS WHY I WROTE THIS SONG
THATS WHY I WROTE THIS SONG

SHE CAN DO IT IN THE MORNIN
SHE CAN DO IT NOON AND NOGHT
SHE CAN DO'EM EATING HER LUNCH
EVEN WHEN SHE DON'T FEEL RIGHT
MY BABY LIKES TO GAND BANG
EVERY SINGLE KIND OF WAY
IF SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO WORK
WE'LL SHE'D BE DOING ALL, OK?

MY BABY LIKES TO GET BANGED
MY BABY LIKES IT A LOT
DO IT ALL DAY LONG
WITH JUST AS MANY STIFF DONGS
MY BABY LIKES TO GANG BANG
THATS WHY I WROTE THIS SONG
THATS WHY I WROTE THIS SONG

poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Artiste

If I were a painter!
I would paint a picture of you,
If I were a songwriter!
I would sing of my love for you,
If I were an author!
I would write a story of love,
But I am only me
as you can see.

If I were a painter!
I would paint a picture of you,
I brush your hair,
with gentle strokes,
with a touch of brown,
and of you on your bed.
I'll make you blush and glow,
With a single stroke I can
make you smile again,
But I am only me
as you can see.

If I were a songwriter!
I would sing of my love for you,
I would write the words,
to tell you how I feel,
And maybe make this real,
But I am only me
as you can see.

If I were an author!
I would write a story of love,
a love that would bind
our two hearts,
write words of love for your voice,
as I let it wash over me,
of kissing your lips and the taste of you,
But I am only me,
as you can see.

RG/RR

poem by Robert Green
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Likes It Too

(jack turner/tim nichols)
I got my first motorcycle when I turned sixteen
I remember my mama raisin cane with me
She said, son tell me why you want to ride that thing
She didnt know about the blonde at the dairy queen
I got my own reasons why I do what I do
I like to ride motorcycles
She likes it too
I like to ride motorcycles
She likes it too
I always wore my hair just a little too long
Daddy didn;t like it and he made no bones
If Id have gotten it cut like he wanted me to
She wouldnt have had nothin left to run her fingers through
I got my reasons why I do what I do
I like to wear my hair long
She likes it too
I like to wear my hair long
She likes it too
I remember ridin around with my buddies back home
Listenin to some country on the radio
When they tried to change the startion to some rock n roll
Id turn the opry up just as loud as it would go
I got my reasons why I do what I do
I like country music
She likes it too
I like country music
She likes it too
I got my own reasons
Why I do what I do
I know what I like
She likes it too
I know what I like
She likes it too
Yeah I know what I like
And she likes it too

song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To See Your Home

An illustrator,
The author's responsibility;
Your signature is now needed on my love,
And like your desires represented by the muse.
Right to cancel and the right to review,
To maintain all your rights to satisfy my muse;
For i will only guarantee you my sweet heart,
And with no option to see your home!

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Write by Return

Clerk, corresponding,
“Rooster and Comb”,
Here I sit idle
“Thinking of home”;
I must be grafting—
Living to earn,
More correspondence,
“Write by return.”

Clerk in employ of
“Shoddy and Woods”,
Thinks that we have not
Forwarded goods.
Parcel we sent them—
Missing, I learn,
Says in his postscript:
“Write by return.”

Here is another
Letter from Bland—
“Cheque he expected
Isn’t to hand.”
How we forgot it
Cannot discern,
“Forward remittance,
Write by return.”

Here is another—
O how they come?
Treats of a “Bender”
Planned by a chum.
See on the margin,
Big letters: “Burn
After perusal—
Write by return.”

Mail in from England,
Letters for me—
Dear little sweetheart
Over the sea.
“Quite broken-hearted,
O how I yearn
Only to see you. . . .
Write by return.”

One who will “never
Think that I’m bad”
Writes me a letter
Tearful and sad.
Thinks that I’m starving,
Filled with concern,
Sends me some money—
“Write by return.”

Letter from father,
Sent to his son,
“All is forgiven—
Fat calf for one.”
O that I ever
Thought he was stern—
Money for passage—
Write by return.

poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am the one of those.....

I am one of those who likes to live,
to be a friend and to forgive.
I am one of those who hates a lie,
if it were for me a war I would deny.
I am one of those who likes to dream,
if to play games then in a family team.
I am one of those who likes to sing
and listen to the bells ring.
I am one of those who likes to laugh,
the time with my dear ones is not enough.
I am one of those who likes fairy tales
and I know that even a hero sometimes fails.
I am thankful to my God and ask our Lord
to prolong my days
so that to look for the new ways.
I am one of those who tries to find the door
leading to more happiness,
I always try to avoid loneliness.
I am one of those who likes to give,
I am one of those who likes to live.

Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Writing Is Like A Diet

It is not easy to write.
Even if one likes it...
Writing is like a challenge.
An obstacle to face.
And when confronted,
To make use of it...
A discipline applied,
Is what it takes!

It is not easy to write.
Even if one likes it.
Those who do may not sleep,
At night.
Or discover they have lost an appetite.

Writing is like a diet.
And accepting it becomes a way of life.
Those who ask how writing is done...
Usually have no idea,
Of what they must overcome.

Some believe writing is nothing but fun.
But those committed...
Know writing is more like a spouse,
That can be quiet as a mouse.
Then at other times a shouting occurs...
Heard from the inside,
With a wish to come out!

Writing is like a diet.
And accepting it becomes a way of life.

It is not easy to write.
Even if one likes it!
Writing is like a challenge.
An obstacle to face.
And when confronted,
To make use of it...
A discipline applied,
Is what it takes!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the next year or so, my signature will appear on 60 billion of United States currency. More important to me, however, is the signature that appears on my life-the strong, proud, assertive handwriting of a loving father and mother.

quote by Katherine D. Ortega
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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