I am less selfish. But I am more insistent on being part of the creative experience. I find I am a better mother, lover and wife when I am writing. When my daughter was small I wasn't writing as much and I didn't miss it.
quote by Helen Slater
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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041611G mom doesn't like way i write
i brought home my papers
with scrambled writing and
folded to look like unknown
bird or boat that really float
i could write my name not
my family name too long
i can't decide which hand
i will use for writing it seems
i can use them both at ease
so i have two gigantic pencil
my mom wasn't please with
so i hide my left hand under
***
i'm writing my recollection about
my mother as a reminder to mom's
that we kids does keep in mind
lots of things concerning our mom's
and of course we remember at
'MOTHER'S DAY'
poem by Manonton Dalan
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Broken heart
Poets have broken hearts
My wife Tapaswini alleged
And without broken hearts
No one would be a poet
My wife Tapaswini clarified.
The poet wonders in his world
The poet work wonders through
His words and sentences
And my wife Tapaswini left
No space for my replied.
My wife Tapaswini left the place
Where I was and my wife Tapaswini
Could not reach me where I am
And the sparrow the crow all
Arranged their feast with joy
Where I am writing poem.
Where I was writing I was there
Where I am writing I am there
My wife Tapaswini always with me
I was not with my wife Tapaswini
While writing and the allegation
Of my wife Tapaswini I certified
And I attested One can take it granted.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Something Easy to Do
I am told,
Since I enjoy writing...
I must find it easy to do!
First of all...
If someone finds something easy to do.
And they brag about it,
Not because what is done is 'liked'.
It is done because they find it easy.
Nothing is easy about writing.
In fact,
Those creative things I enjoy...
I don't find easy at all!
There are too many critiques involved.
Folks constantly expressing their judgements.
And then there are those who have jobs and drink coffee,
All day long to tell someone like me,
I should get a real job!
I was told that one time,
By someone taking a two hour lunch break!
And if it takes me two days to a month,
To complete a task...
I don't take breaks until that task is done.
I can't think of one creative person,
Associated with the economic collapse.
No one I know with discipline...
Has time to feed a greed.
And ultimately,
Those of creative minds will have to mend this mess!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Small Time
small time, you call it small time
writing
is small time, there is no money
in writing, like a
politician, look at him, he does not
write, someone writes for him
and he gets the prize
the money
the pot
the jackpot
and look at you
you keep on writing
and writing
and writing
oh la la
poems, fit for a woman
her limited mind
her gullibility
her passion for words and words and words
her imagination
and look at you
poor man, poor, poor, poor
what you give
to this world, what are you giving to this world
it is not even a flower
just a poem for her, and you claim that you are winning her heart?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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THAT, I Do Know
You see this?
I've been doing it,
Most of my life.
Writing.
I began in the '50's
The nineteen fifties.
With little or no encouragement,
At all that I could see.
OH...
My mom use to buy my sister
And I writing pads and finger painting sets
to keep me from writing on the walls.
And...
I guess a few spankings supplied an incentive!
Now that I remember certain events.
It was my sister Mimmie,
Who discovered I could write poetry.
And she didn't believe me.
People 'assume' I was nourished,
And encouraged by my parents.
I don't think they knew what I did,
To be honest.
I was born 'this creative being'.
With demands I made.
No one 'gave' me a thing,
But a headache.
With a parade of negative comments,
About my exposed interests.
They assigned to being a little effeminate.
But I played ball and stuff like that.
I wasn't hung up on gender!
That is more expressed today,
Than in those days I grew up.
So...
I am quite amazed today,
Especially...
That someone would ask me 'how'
I do 'this' and what they need to know...
To do 'that'?
'Gee, I don't know what to say.
Or how to say anything at all about it.
Uh...you...uh...well? ...I...uh...Gee.'
Sometimes I'm left speechless.
I just know...
If it is something done that is loved,
It will discover a way to express itself.
THAT,
Is what I have discovered over many years,
Of unrelentless devotion.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When I wasn't breathing
When I wasn’t blissfully snoring; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
cistern of stupendously rhapsodic and gloriously majestic Immortal Love
Poetry,
When I wasn’t unsurpassably fantasizing; I was still inexhaustibly
writing a
garden of ingeniously magical and miraculously mitigating Immortal Love
Poetry,
When I wasn’t superbly adventuring; I was still inexhaustibly writing
an
ocean of bountifully resplendent and timelessly undefeated Immortal
Love
Poetry,
When I wasn’t scrumptiously relishing; I was still inexhaustibly
writing a
playground of optimistically enlightening and unbelievably royal
Immortal
Love Poetry,
When I wasn’t limitlessly triumphing; I was still inexhaustibly writing
a
cascade of beautifully panoramic and effulgently liberating Immortal
Love
Poetry,
When I wasn’t pricelessly smiling; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
lantern of unendingly vibrant and inscrutably tantalizing Immortal Love
Poetry,
When I wasn’t gloriously partying; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
paradise of eternally vivacious and pristinely redolent Immortal Love
Poetry,
When I wasn’t unassailably inspiring; I was still inexhaustibly writing
a
festoon of incredulously ameliorating and perpetually compassionate
Immortal
Love Poetry,
When I wasn’t magnanimously feasting; I was still inexhaustibly writing
a
cocoon of symbiotically philanthropic and ubiquitously coalescing
Immortal
Love Poetry,
When I wasn’t ebulliently fornicating; I was still inexhaustibly
writing a
mist of wonderfully reinvigorating and blessedly burgeoning Immortal
Love
Poetry,
When I wasn’t flirtatiously winking; I was still inexhaustibly writing
a
swirl of brilliantly untainted and Omnipotently ecstatic Immortal Love
Poetry,
When I wasn’t mellifluously singing; I was still inexhaustibly writing
a
heaven of iridescently innovative and spectacularly celestial Immortal
Love
Poetry,
When I wasn’t synergistically relaxing; I was still inexhaustibly
writing a
pearl of unconquerably seductive and unprecedentedly enamoring Immortal
Love
Poetry,
When I wasn’t amiably conversing; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
palette of majestically invincible and Omnipresently procreating
Immortal
Love Poetry,
When I wasn’t holistically earning; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
canvas of inimitably untamed and fragrantly altruistic Immortal Love
Poetry,
When I wasn’t unceasingly exultating; I was still inexhaustibly writing
a
tunnel of mystically replenishing and perennially enthralling Immortal
Love
Poetry,
When I wasn’t devoutly praying; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
meadow
of vividly glorifying and fearlessly jubilant Immortal Love Poetry,
When I wasn’t ardently dancing; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
rainbow
of poignantly marvelous and unshakably subliming Immortal Love Poetry,
When I wasn’t unstoppably admiring; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
mirror of truthfully Omnipresent and inherently revealing Immortal Love
Poetry,
And when I wasn’t quintessentially breathing; I was still inexhaustibly
writing a cosmos of unbreakably everlasting and universally bonding
Immortal
Love Poetry….
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Early In The Morning
Oh I bet
You were a virgin
'Til you let me
Oh I miss your kiss
When you are gone
I was young and foolish
Didn't know what I was doing
Didn't know I'd lost you
'Til you were gone
Oh I miss your loving
When you are gone
Now I gotta get up
Early in the morning
Find me another lover
Now I've got to get up early
Every morning
'Cos the early bird
Always catches the worm
Now I've got to get up early
Every morning
Got to make up for the
Lesson I learned
Got to find me a lover
Who won't run for cover
Find me a lover
Who won't run for cover
Got to get up
Early in the morning
Find me another lover
Now I gotta get up
Early in the morning
Find me another lover
I was young and foolish
Didn't know what I was doing
Didn't know I'd lost you
'Til you'd gone
She had a pretty face
Drove me wild
I even wanted her to have my child
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And So I'm Writing...
I'm hard-pressed for time,
yet I do have the heart
And so I'm writing
Know not what to pen down,
have a paper to write on
And so I'm writing
May be I'll write about 'you and me'
Or may be of 'us and them'
Feel like playing with words
And so I'm writing
May be that starving beggar's hungry looks
Or that homeless Child's beckoning eyes
Are making me scribble these lines to you
And so I'm writing
May be you'll find my words vague
Or you might decipher a meaning
Intend to leave you in the oblivion
And so I'm writing
Whatever might be the impression I create
Wish to see its reflection on your soul
And leave an imprint on your mind
And so I'm writing
May be you and I've become immune
To the pathos of mankind
Or may be there's still
A dropp of humanity flowing deep within us
Wish to arouse 'The Human Being' in you
And so I'm writing...
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Your Dog Dies
it gets run over by a van.
you find it at the side of the road
and bury it.
you feel bad about it.
you feel bad personally,
but you feel bad for your daughter
because it was her pet,
and she loved it so.
she used to croon to it
and let it sleep in her bed.
you write a poem about it.
you call it a poem for your daughter,
about the dog getting run over by a van
and how you looked after it,
took it out into the woods
and buried it deep, deep,
and that poem turns out so good
you're almost glad the little dog
was run over, or else you'd never
have written that good poem.
then you sit down to write
a poem about writing a poem
about the death of that dog,
but while you're writing you
hear a woman scream
your name, your first name,
both syllables,
and your heart stops.
after a minute, you continue writing.
she screams again.
you wonder how long this can go on.
poem by Raymond Clevie Carver
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I cling to the fantasy that I could have done something more creative. Like actually writing a script, or writing a book. But the awful truth is that I... probably can't!
quote by Hugh Grant
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Letter From A Writer Searching For Her Soul And Wanting To Feel Not With Her Hands
Hello (to whom it may concern) ,
It's been awhile since we exchanged messages. Sorry, I'm not much of an |'onliner' these days. I resigned from my job. I'm, in the process of soul searching. Funny but I don't really know why I'm looking for a soul, my soul, when I cannot even see it. I'm on an unplanned vacation in some quaint town some miles outside the city while writing this email.
I guess I never had the chance to tell you how you took the glint from my eye. To write from the soul and not for the awards. I have overlook that writing is an Art. Thus it is priceless. A gold medal does not define you as an artist. Write until it ceases to become a craft.But more than just stringing words after words, conscious of your weary grammar, punctuations, right words, and subject matter. To write is to turn your heart inside out.
Beyond 'writing' and its technical definitions, it is actually a journey - a self surrender - towards the oblivion you are willing to traverse with your pen. And you find yourself in another state.
To write is to 'see' but not with your eyes. To 'feel' but not with your hands. And at the end of it all, you know that it's there. Writing takes over you. Thus, I often wonder: am i writing with the pen? Or is it the pen using me to write? But I know somewhere deep inside, there is a thing mightier than the pen that prompts me to write. And that is the soul.
I want to find my center. My creative process in writing. Ironic, but to find it, I must loose myself.
hahahahaha. whew. I know i sound stupid. Sorry. Thanks for bearing with me. Hope it's not too late to greet you a Happy New Year! ! ! ! =)
Always,
(name witheld, but this could be you)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Everything I’ll Ever Need
For My Wife
I’m writing this poem to tell you
Just how much you mean to me
I’m writing to say I love you
Sentimental as that may be
Your more precious than any gift
That I will ever receive
Your my morning, my night
And the air that I breathe
You’re the mother of our children
A friend when I’m lonely
Your strong when I am weak
Your everything I’ll ever need
You’re the ray of sunshine
When I wake each day
With fingers gently on my brow
You take all my troubles away
You’re my friend, my companion
But most all your my wife
You are what I live for
Each and everyday of my life
Your everything good in my world
And much, much more
There are no words to say how much
Your just everything I’ll ever need
29 Feb 1996
poem by David Harris
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There is the great creative part of it. The writing is the best part.
quote by Cynthia Weil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That first writing session, what Dan Hill calls a creative blind date, is always a real challenge, and you bring that back to your partner when you return to writing with them.
quote by Cynthia Weil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They Say It Is My Brain That Is Writing This Poem
THEY SAY IT IS MY BRAIN THAT IS WRITING THIS POEM
They say it is my brain that it is writing this poem-
They can see areas of it shutting down
And others lighting up more intensely,
As the words come down-
But I know it is me who is writing this poem
And my brain is only ‘part' of who I am
Whatever that means.
I am writing this poem
And you are reading it
And we are human beings
Aren't we?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Whos Been Writing On The Wall Again
Someone keeps on telling me how much he loves me so
Writes it on the wall outside so I will always know
Whos been writing on the wall again
Whos been writing on the wall again
Whos been writing on the wall again
Lori, I love you , lori, I love you
Evry evening I come home , its waiting there for me
Three little words, one little voice , someone I cant see
Whos been writing on the wall again
Whos been writing on the wall again
Whos been writing on the wall again
Lori , I love you , lori , I love you
Is he tall or is he small
I wonder what his game is
I wish hes write it on the wall
And tell me what his name is
I dont know if his hair is blonde or if his eyes are blue
But I know that when I meet him ,Im gonna love him too
Whos been writing on the wall again
Whos been writing on the wall again
Whos been writing on the wall again
Lori , I love you , lori , I love you
Is he tall or is he small
I wonder what his game is
I wish hed write it on the wall
And tell me what his name is
I dont know if his hair is blonde or if his eyes are blue
But I know that when meet him , Im gonna love him too
Whos been writing on the wall again
Whos been writing on the wall again
Whos been writing on the wall again
Lori , I love you , lori , I love you
Whos been writing on the wall again
Whos been writing on the wall again (fade)
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im Sorry
Sorry im writing this about you.
Sorry i love you
im sorry i want to make you a part of my life.
im sorry i want you next to me
im sorry i approached you.
I admire you, i love you, i need you.
Im sorry i want to make you my wife
im sorry i want to build a future with you i want to live with you, im sorry i want you to be mother of my children, i want to build a home with you im so sorry you the one i want to marry you.
I want to wake up next to you im so sorry i cant give up on you,
im sorry i cant sleep without talking to you im sorry but i consider you the one for me im so sorry
im sorry for you give me joy, i find peace im so sorry i love you so much
im sorry im THE LEGEND and you will be LEGENDARY wife
poem by Ernest Makuakua
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