I'd always loved to read - and come from a family of readers - but I never thought about writing as a career.
quote by Nora Roberts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Poet Who Has No Readers
THE POET WHO HAS NO READERS
The poet who has no readers
Needs the writing of the poetry
Loves the writing of the poetry
More than any recognition or praise
He may receive for it-
The poet who has no readers
Writes nonetheless,
For he needs and loves to write
Though he not be read or listened to at all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Carlos' In the Middle of the Road, Plagiarized by Me
in the middle of my writing career there was you
you were in the middle of my writing career
there was you
in the middle of my writing career there was you
never should i forget this incident
in the life of my broken eyelashes
never should i forget that in the middle of my writing career
there was you
there was you in the middle of my writing career
in the middle of my writing career
there was you
you were that stone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Poet Who Has Few Readers
The poet who has few readers
Needs the writing of the poetry
Loves the writing of the poetry
More than any recognition or praise
He may receive for it-
The poet who has few readers
Writes nonetheless,
For he needs and loves to write
Though little read and listened to.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I have been writing for 50 years and readers still read my first book from when I was in the Marine Corps.
Readers
Wormed,
I have died many times in this life;
Dragged,
I have suffered many times in this life;
But my readers will learn from me like the sea of love,
For, i am with the works of peace in this world.
Readers, reed, read, dear, deer, ear, ears, are, red;
Now i feel safe with you,
But the level of your love stems out from your hearts! !
Readers, sad, rare, dare, sear, seer, see, sea, as;
And like the muse of your love!
For, it comes out straight from the heart.
Readers,
My source of pleasure;
Readers,
The source of my hope;
But, forgivde me if i have wronged you,
For the acts of your total power is like the loyal soldier!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Hand Behind
The hand behind is controlling
my mouse, the bug, cursor everything..
The arrow roams alone without me,
along the screen.........
I feel, it's you, you only,
shadowing me, following my steps!
Who are you my invisible friend?
You read my poems, when they get
ready to see the light of the
readers' curious eyes.
You want to make me dance
along with your thought,
you dislike my talk with other,
You want to read me with clicks.
I want you to read me, once, twice,
thrice.....I know, at the day's
end you can' t bag anything you want...
You know, I'm crystal clear! !
poem by Nilakshi Das
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I wasn't very good about juggling family and my career. I was interested in who was coming to the children's birthday party, what my son was writing. I was thinking about Legos.
quote by Jill Clayburgh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Usually a family is led through the mom or the dad and their career and for the family to be led by my career, even though God has led it, could be a lot of pressure.
quote by Stacie Orrico
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Classics sleep
The food not fit for the lords
Is still good for the servants.
The left over goes to beggars.
The spill over finds germs and worms.
The writing of any standard
Will get readers of that standard.
That’s why most of the classics sleep
And you and I could get readers.
13.112008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Worthwhile Writing
I was writing on a paper
Suddenly I started writing on minds
Then the reaction from the readers
Made it worthwhile!
poem by Asif Andalib
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If something strikes me as really funny, very intriguing or really touching, then I just go and do it. It's never about managing my career in a way that this would be a good move. I have enough people telling me what to do, so I think that when I read something, if I admire the writing and who's directing it, I just go for it.
quote by Monica Potter
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ms. Wallace (Outro)
As a child Christopher was outspoken when it suited him at times he was quiet
and of course he was mischievous as all little boys are as a young man he likes
to do everything he liked to read he likes to be with his friends as young kids
r young boys he enjoyed life everything that would make him happy r comfortable
he would do but mostly he enjoyed being with his friends and family his early
inspirations toward rap music were the LLs of the world the sugar hills the Mr.
magics and the fat boys of the rap channel those were all the things I heard in
the house even though I called it noise and banging I know now that it is a
accepted musical art form I was a single parent I raised my son on my own his
father had no influence on his decision towards the musical outlet r career he
chose my son had a mind of his own even if his father was around he would have
turned to rap he loved music he loved rap at a point in my sons life he
developed paranoia about death and about the dying we are living in a world of
im
perfect human beings we are greed jealousy and envy or manifested by what
others have accomplished in life my son was very very much aware of that he
appreciated his station in life on the directions in which he was going are
traveling on the other hand there were others who I should uhh use the hip hop
phrase player hating and I think that is what resulted in his paranoia if I had
to change anything in my sons life that would have allowed him to be here
today I would have deterred him from a career in music im aware that millions
appreciated his music millions loved his music be that it may if he hadnt
chosen that life style that career my son would be alive today if I could sum
up Christopher in one word the word would be generous th thing that my son
loved most about life was the fact that he was in a position to help position
to share position to give to others who needed to others who wanted to others
apreciated the gifts that he gave thats what he loved most
song performed by by Notorious B.I.G.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Valley of Acid Tears
I think my writing's of poems has come to an end
They've told the stories about my family
Lost Love, Wars, The Hells, Places I've been
Damaged Souls
The Stories of Tears that just won't end
The Things that just has to be said
That caused the Tears
The Dark Secrets
Truth about a family of Abuse
Anger
Live's full of sin
Reality would talk about how it's time to move on
We were the resemblances of survival
A family gone
And for our futures journeys to the other side of life
Yet even now with that knowledge of my family
My own lifetime of strife
My broken dreams and shattered hearts
I was still surprised by the cords that were still tied
The story of how I came to that bridge of lost love
Where hopelessness reigned
Where helpless tears cried
The place where time had come for changes, repentance
Above all else knowledge that I needed to be righteous before I lied
It didn't take an Einstein to read between the lines
I just wished my family could've realized that
And about the furture life after the boxes of pines
How I stood at that bridge and cried harder than ever before
Thought of them and the love lost
Then even harder more
How I moved forward for the damaged soul of mine
Wondered what was left, did we have any more time?
You see my family! I know that it had to be this way
That everyone has a chance to move on or lay where you lay
Even now you know I loved you like now one else ever could
After all it was only that love that made it so I could be good
Yes I had to be good!
Fact is,
I wanted it more than anything
But for you at the bridge, and your memories
A little longer I stood
And then how the tears flowed
More than I thought that they ever could
So the day will come for you to hear my thoughts
Maybe even read
Even now I wonder who'll listen
Who'll heed
It was hard to speak even now about abuse
The Valley of Acid Tears
My moving on
These last few years
My family will never know about that
Nor understand what its been like
Nor visit those places I been
The times I needed their help
The times my soul was so desperate for their love
My fight,
The fight to become clean and win
I try not to remember how so often they judged me
And the truth that I spoke, as the sin
My poems would speak of the
Bitterness
within my family, my soul
About pain and endless tears,
Waves that washed and flowed
But not once ever did my heart speak,
Nor the stories talk of any hate
Only of love, and lost, the damage, the worries,
My fate
About a bridge I crossed and my moving on
The depths of Hell
And those Hells beyond
The understanding of endless tears
And how they'll never be gone
And how I turned,
My back away from that bridge from that Hell
And even then, and still my family didn't show any care
About the man that loved them, that isn't doing very well
Nor do they get to see the man that has changed his life
For as I walked from that bridge, fake love and
Those unbelievable Hells
I thought
My family, my family, my family it's true
I'm happy you missed the Hells I've been too.
The turning my back away from sin
But not the best part that makes me what I am
Love, true love the best part of any man
So as I walked from that Valley of Acid Tears
Love now speaks Frankly about The House The Home, The Hells
My life in the Valley of the Dammed
poem by Clyde Bryson
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Moving round
The world is the paper
The sea is the ink
And I'm the sea
Full of thought
And emotion
And writing poems
On the paper-world.
The tree the bird
The cloud the air
The light the earth
Are ingredients of poems
I'm writing the poem
My poem moving round
The life's circle
You are to read and read.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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A matter of form for friend leslie
Consistency and symmetry
combined with meter seem to be
Ingredients of good poetry.
Though modernists will disagree.
They take a different point of view.
Convinced that anything will do
That writers need not follow rules
and those who do they see as fools
Consider rhyming is a crime
and meter just a waste of time.
But can this kind of writing last?
like that of poets from the past.
I don’t dispute they have the right
to choose the way in which they write.
Poetic prose can be divine
but not if it lacks discipline.
Your writing must be coherent.
A well established precedent
If what you write does not make sense.
What can be said in its defence?
If readers cannot comprehend
the message which you try to send
Because your meaning is not plain.
Perhaps its time to think again.
And realise there must be rules.
A craftsman has to know his tools.
If he does not then he will fail
his efforts all to no avail.
Some readers will choose poetry
and others prose preferably
It is your reader’s right to choose
to read your writings or refuse.
If you don’t cater to their needs
don’t be surprised if no one reads.
If how you write is too obscure.
Then change your style. The only cure.
30/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Your job is not your career
I responsible to my job, I fight for my career
I bound to job, I grow with career
Job is described, career is developed
Job is fulfilled, career is achieved
Job is for living, career is for life
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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I'm Sick
i'm sick if writing about love
i'm sick of writing sorrow
i'm sick of writing anything
but that anythings all i know
i dont know of happy times
when our family was alive
when mom and dad weren't fighting
and sissy and i were alike
i dont know of little picknicks
where we lie down in the grass
smile and pass notes
in the back of class
i remember crying
when you told me this was good-bye
grabbing your hand
asking you not to go
i remember bleeding
after the sharp thing hit my arm
after you said you loved me
and that you would bring no harm
poem by Jade Just me
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tales Of The Brothers Grimm
It is better some readers
critics do not read us.
Better that these readers
read tales of the Brothers Grim.
To perceive threads of life reality
writ to prepare perceive us.
All is not happy sunny in fairy
tale land hark warning at hand.
It is better some readers critics do not read us.
Better that these readers read tales of the Brothers Grim.
To perceive threads of life reality writ to prepare perceive us.
All is not happy sunny in fairy tale land hark warning at hand.
Life warnings lessons harsh are written in insight child terror tale.
To disobey wisdom wise parent warnings is life soul up for sale.
If you enter dark woods beware evil hides bidden in mysteries rare.
Lessons proclaim abstain refrain from curiosity investigating dark lair.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A bolt will have a nut to fit.
We write, with a certain readers in mind.
The targeted audience determines
The tone and the contents of the writing.
The standard of writing might differs.
If a bolt is unfit to a certain nut,
It doesn’t mean it’ll be fit to none.
A horse has a taker; so does an ass.
I have no right to brand yours as bad.
06.11.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Oh Daddy
I used to be daddy's little girl
To us U meant the world
And, oh how we seemed so happy
Thought we had everything
But oh how the seasons changed
When you broke up with us and made a new family
So many
Times I cried
Sleepless nights
Asking why did U go
I still don't know
What happened to the man I used to know
You loved me then left me
Out here with no daddy
No longer a family with daddy
Though we struggled for a while
We still made it through these trials
I don't think back because we're OK, Oh daddy
Day by Day it got so hard
Ma takin any job
And the car just won't drive and nothing to get by
Next thing we in a food line
These things, no you didnt see
Cause you gave up on me
I just kept following my dream
You loved me then left me
Out here with no daddy
No longer a family with daddy
Though we struggled for a while
We still made it through these trials
I don't think back because we're OK, Oh daddy
Now slowly I start to understand
This was just all apart of a plan
Cause without we've been thru so many things
Now to you we are thanking
Every word I say is true
I couldn't forgive but now I do
But we just can't forget I just can't let it happen all over again
You loved me then left me
Out here with no daddy
No longer a family with daddy
Though we struggled for a while
We still made it through these trials
I don't think back because we're OK, Oh daddy
You loved me then left me
Out here with no daddy
No longer a family with daddy
Though we struggled for a while
We still made it through these trials
I don't think back because we're OK, Oh daddy
song performed by by Christina Milian
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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