That's what George wrote! He wrote it. Why change it? There was this European company that I was speaking about awhile ago - course, didn't nobody know what Porgy was.
quote by Cab Calloway

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No More
I wrote my name on the seashore
The waves came and it was no more
I wrote my name in the air
The wind came and it was no more
I wrote my name in the sky
The clouds came and it was no more
I wrote my name in the puddles
The sun came and it was no more
i wrote my name in the dust
The rain came and it was no more
One day Gabriel wrote my name
and alas! i was no more
poem by Humna Hamid

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The poem
I wrote a poem that didn't
ryhme,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme to the one I love,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme to the one I love
more than life,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme to the one I love more than life,
of which she did more than like,
the poem was short,
repeated myself alot,
but the one I loved more than life,
felt that love is like the poem I wrote,
full of joy and full of hurt,
the poem I wrote when I was full of hype,
coz the one I loved more than life is the one that now fills in my life all gaps,
the one that brings me up when am down,
a smile on my face from a frown,
music to my ears when we talk,
love in my heart when I'm near,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme for the one I love more than life.
poem by Kennedy Musyoka

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Dear John
(vocals by john prine)
When i woke up this morning
There was a note upon my door
Saying " don't make me no coffee, babe
Cause i won't be back no more"
And that's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
Now jonah got along in the belly of a whale
Daniel in the lion's den
I know a guy that didn't try to get along
And he won't get a chance again
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
She didn't forward no address
No she never said goodbye
All she said was "if you get blue
Just hang your little head and cry"
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
Now my gal's short and stubby
She's mean as she can be
If that little old gal of mine
Ever gets a hold of me
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i fetched your saddle home"
Went down to the bank this morning
The cashier said with a grin
I'm sorry for you little john
But your wife has done been in
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home
song performed by by John Prine

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is not half cooked
Having heard and read, I wrote.
Having seen and felt, I wrote.
I wrote of love and romance
From experience and perception.
As I wrote I was soothed.
Don’t scorn my writings as half cooked.
10.10.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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I Loves Ya Porgy
(george gershwin/ira gershwin/dubose heyward)
I loves ya porgy
Dont let him take me
Dont let him handle me
And drive me mad
If you can keep me
Porgy, I wanna stay here
With you forever
I got my man
Someday, I know
Hes comin back to call me
Hes going to handle me and hold me
Its gonna be like dyin, porgy
But when he calls me
Ill have to go
I loves ya porgy
Dont let him handle me
With his hot hands
If you can keep me
I wanna stay here
With you forever
And ever, ever and ever
Ever and ever
Porgy, I got my man
song performed by by Diana Ross

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What They Will Say
Some times, I wonder if I write for the future.
That may seem like a strange statement to make.
Forty-three years ago, I wrote a poem
that at the time no one wanted to know.
Now it is my best-loved poem
read by countless people around the world.
Thirty years ago, I wrote two poems
and each one won me an award,
but at the time I wrote them,
no one wanted to know.
All of which makes me wonder
if what I wrote in my yesteryears
that then none wanted to know.
Could they all be popular now?
Today I started collecting and retyping
short stories I wrote twenty years ago.
At the time, publishers and agents
didn’t want to know.
Now twenty year on
I am wondering what they will say.
24 January 2009
poem by David Harris

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All She Wrote
Something's wrong with your mind
It won't think of me anymore
Was it all a waste of time
Tell me why was I such a chore
Broken glass lies empty
Cut my voice so I can't say
Today was that day
It was that time
And that was all that she wrote for me
You fell away
I don't know why
And that was all that she wrote for me
Lying here in your bed
The one that you liked to do it in
Pieces of long brown hair
Are all over it and still in my brain
I can't explain
What it's like not knowing if I'll ever cross your mind
Today was that day
It was that time
And that was all that she wrote for me
You fell away
I don't know why
And that was all that she wrote for me
Sleep through the day
Fight with the night
Seven a.m. and the tv is white
Covered in snow
I never knew that hell could get so cold
Today was that day
It was that time
And that was all that she wrote for me
You fell away
I don't know why
And that was all that she wrote for me
Today was that day
It was that time
And that was all that she wrote for me
You fell away
I don't know why
And that was all that she wrote for me
Something's wrong with your mind
It won't think of me anymore
Was it all a waste of time
song performed by by Default

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Legends, Elegies, Pleasures And Norma Jean
The man who wrote Legends of the Fall
Wrote; 'Don't fall in love as if fallin' off a dock at night'
But when you are struck by the thunderbolt
How do you not fall?
The man who wrote the Duino Elegies
Wrote; 'Beauty is only the start of bearable terror'
But to be stuck without beauty
Is unbearable
The woman formerly know as Norma Jean
Wrote; 'I know from life one cannot love another'
I know what she meant, but to love you
How can I not?
The man who wrote The Pleasures of Hope
Wrote; 'How hard it is to find the one just suited to our mind! '
But it is just a little too easy to find one
Who is ill suited
From Legends, Elegies, Pleasures and Norma Jean
What they wrote is unforgettable
And that is what you are muse, though near or far
In every way
poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro

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A Linda Song
Music: Barry Manilow
Lyrics: Enoch Anderson
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He never wrote a song for Linda
He wrote as though he lived alone
He wrote of dreams that end
And of sad brave men
Inventing worlds he'd never known
But he never wrote a song for Linda
And she was right there all along
Loved him back to life
When his luck ran low
But he never wrote a Linda song
He nearly broke his heart at writing
Linda kept him from despair
Standin' by his side
through the hungry days
But he hardly seemed to see her there
And he never wrote a song for Linda
And she was right there all along
The one real thing in his crazy world
And he never wrote a Linda song.
When the bills piled up
He couldn't pay
He couldn't dream no more
So he hitched a ride and he rode away
And he left a note for Linda by the door
By the door
When times got rough he'd phone her
Once or twice she took the call
Then she changed her number and she turned her head
And Linda never looked back at all
He'll never write a song for Linda
And she was right there all along
All he knows is no one understands
And he never wrote a Linda song
No he never wrote a Linda song
song performed by by Barry Manilow

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Lost poem
It was on this page, then gone
Like feathers blowing in the wind.
Where is the prose I wrote?
Not a letter is in sight.
I am looking with all my might.
Oh where is the prose I wrote?
Today I wrote a new poem,
Was it lost in cyberspace?
I hope not for I might not know it,
Even staring at me in the face.
Give me a break, my memories are at stake.
Oh where is the prose I wrote?
I Wrote A Nonsense Poem
I WROTE A NONSENSE POEM
I wrote a nonsense poem
It said a nonsense thing
Yesterday is not today
And winter is not spring.
I wrote a nonsense poem
It didn’t have a name
It began and so fast finished
No wonder I’m ashamed.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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They Call It Gentle and Smile
The Sun wrote a poem
That is morning
The Moon wrote a poem
That is evening
I wrote a poem
That is love
You wrote a poem on your lips
They fondly call it gentle and smile
poem by Kavin Charalan

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For me, being a writer was never a choice. I was born one. All through my childhood I wrote short stories and stuffed them in drawers. I wrote on everything. I didn't do my homework so I could write.
quote by Laura Hillenbrand

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My sense of a poem - my notion of how you revise - is: you get yourself into a state where what you are intensely conscious of is not why you wrote it or how you wrote it, but what you wrote.
quote by Philip Levine

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I wrote The Same Sea not as a political allegory about Israelis and Palestinians. I wrote it about something much more gutsy and immediate. I wrote it as a piece of chamber music.
Porgy
George and ira gershwin / dubose heyward
I love you, porgy
Don't let him take me
Don't let him handle me
And drive me mad
If you can keep me
I want to stay with you forever
And i'll be glad
I love you, porgy
Don't let him take me
Don't let him handle me
With his hot hands
If you can keep me
I want to stay with you forever
I like my man
Someday i know he's coming
Back to call me
He's gonna handle me
And hold me so
It's going to be like dying, porgy
When he calls me
But when he comes, i know
I'll have to go
song performed by by Billie Holiday

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(I Love You) Porgy
George and Ira Gershwin / DuBose Heyward
I love you, Porgy
Don't let him take me
Don't let him handle me
And drive me mad
If you can keep me
I want to stay with you forever
And I'll be glad
I love you, Porgy
Don't let him take me
Don't let him handle me
With his hot hands
If you can keep me
I want to stay with you forever
I like my man
Someday I know he's coming
Back to call me
He's gonna handle me
And hold me so
It's going to be like dying, Porgy
When he calls me
But when he comes, I know
I'll have to go
song performed by by Billie Holiday

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Letters To No One
I wrote a letter to my love
and never received a reply.
I've often wondered why that was.
Did he up and die?
Yes, he did. It's a fact.
And because I didn't know
I kept writing letters
and kept feeling low.
These letters went to no one.
So no one wrote to me.
I've often wondered if all my words
would come back home to me?
And then one day they all came back.
'Undeliverable'
is what they said.
I guess my lover moved away
or maybe he was dead.
And so I stopped my letters.
I never wrote again.
I still have all those letters,
unopened and unread.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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Freedom of writing dying
I wrote about one and was taken to court.
I wrote about a sect and was taken to task.
I wrote about a religion and was beaten.
What else to write to serve the purpose
Other than the glory of love and war
And flattering the people in the helm?
03.02.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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George wrote Taxman, and I played guitar on it. He wrote it in anger at finding out what the taxman did. He had never known before then what could happen to your money.
quote by Paul McCartney

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