I was born to travel and write verse.
quote by Theophile Gautier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marvellous Travel
I travel with my eyes,
Watching those silently cry,
Asking themselves the question why,
Someone left them without saying goodbye;
I travel with my thoughts,
I travel with my pen;
To write about children, women and men;
I travel with my voice,
I travel with my hope,
That something new, would spring into my horoscope,
Whether in Asia, America or Europe,
There'll always be something interesting to scope;
I travel to many different places,
Mix with many races,
Identify tribesmen by their faces,
And little girls by their laces,
I travel without money,
So, please listen to my testimony,
The good, the bad and even the ugly,
Every experience is worth life's journey,
For I'll always be marvelled,
When ever I travel.
poem by Joshua Fernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Travelerz
I travel with my eyes,
Watching those silently cry,
Asking themselves the question
why,
Someone left them without
saying goodbye;
I travel with my thoughts,
I travel with my pen;
To write about children, women
and men;
I travel with my voice,
I travel with my hope,
That something new, would
spring into my horoscope,
Whether in Asia, America or
Europe,
There'll always be something
interesting to scope;
I travel to many different places,
Mix with many races,
Identify tribesmen by their faces,
And little girls by their laces,
I travel without money,
So, please listen to my testimony,
The good, the bad and even the
ugly,
Every experience is worth life's
journey,
For I'll always be marvelled,
When ever I travel.
poem by Akingbehin Daniel Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Travel to the place...
Travel to the place
Where mind set to peace,
No one can see,
Feel us free.
Travel to the place
Where we can breathe,
Fill our desire,
We wish; we aspire.
Travel to the place
Where we have silence,
Flower of fragrance,
And nature to admire.
Travel to the place
Where we can write,
Lines of rhyme,
At any time.
Travel to the place
Where we have enough space,
Work without race,
No tension on face.
Travel to the place
Where we can dance,
Sing at glance,
Bit of time to romance.
Travel to the place
Where we spread love,
Freedom to serve
And land to move.
Travel to the place
Where we can live,
Of joy and sprinkle its grace,
And do anything, anywhere.
poem by Divyesh J. Shah
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A Poem Explodes In This Poets Mind
flying flocks travel in flight,
another faulkner puts down
his shovel, and writes, writes
and writes.
spare me the out cry,
spare me the empty familiar,
spare me the muddled spirits,
and write your own words
with your own blood.
flying flocks travel in flight,
sextan turns up with her friend
plath, and they both write, write,
and write with their own blood.
spare me the out cry,
spare me the empty familiar,
spare me these muddled spirits,
and write with your own blood.
Flying flocks travel in flight, and
a poem explodes in this poets mind,
and i write, and write, and write,
and on this white paper, my blood.
poem by David Gerardino
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Free verse
I want to write always in free verse
In free verse there is no pressure.
I do not want to keep any goal
I really do not want any roll
I also do not want to play any role.
I want to see this earth free from hunger
Free from poverty and I do not want to
keep anybody within an artificial boundary.
I want to write always in free verse
I want to move freely from place to place
To see people in various glaze.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Try It
(clarke / hicks / nash)
Travel by the silver line
To a place that has no time.
Why dont you try it now?
Working hard to see the light,
Let your mind take up in flight.
Why dont you try it now?
Its beautiful, seeing all the colors of the rainbow,
Beautiful, covering the people that we know.
See the color of health
Flowing from your older self.
Why dont you try it now?
Living good, stopped playing games,
Traveling the astral planes.
Why dont you try it now?
Chorus x 2
Verse 1
Verse 2
Verse 3
Verse 4
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why I Write?
My child you ask me why
And so I give a sure reply
The reason why I write you ask?
I do so to unveil a mask -
To state a claim my dear
And dry these noble tears at last
The reason why I write
Is to be free -
As that young lad's kite
To flee from charmless grips
And stray from harm's lustful flight
You ask me why I write today?
I do so that you go away!
To a place, within my space
That way I'll have a worthy say
I write my dear to tell a tale
Of places that I once had sailed
The promises that were never had
The eluded dreams that made me sad
The reason why I write a verse
Is to soothe this soul I thought was cursed
To trod with care through lonely roads
And pray my troubles be reversed
The reason why I write to you
Is so you ‘ll see my point of view
That in all things, there is a verse
A spring that takes away all thirst
Copyright © 2012
poem by Godfrey Morris
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Swim Submerged
FLYING flocks travel in flight,
another faulkner puts down his
shovel, and writes, writes, and
writes,
spare me the out cry,
spare me the empty familiar,
spare me muddled spirits,
and write the words with your
own red blood,
FLYING flocks travel in flight,
sextan turns up, with her freind
plath, and they both begine to
write, write, and write, yippee,
says the words, for these words
will end up in a paper back book.
poem by David Gerardino
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Write verse, not poetry. The public wants verse. If you have a talent for poetry, then don't by any means mother it, but try your hand at verse.
quote by Robert W. Service
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Heart Whispered
The heart whispered,
After the intensity
Of the pangs would reduce,
I would write the verse;
After the bewildering horror
Of death would decrease,
I would write the verse:
The intensity
Of the pangs does not reduce;
The bewildering horror
Of death does not decrease.
The wailing, the bawling,
The crying, the mourning,
Do not let heartily sleep,
Do not let heartily weep.
Then after
Cheerful sleep and weeping deep,
I shall write the verse.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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If We In Verse Slay Ourselves
with 'something to say'
which needs to be said
it is not necessary for us
to 'live long enough to write
the poem we know we can write'
because with something to say
if we seek universal truth
if we dedicated write enough
at least a few poems will
eventually be 'the poem
we know we can write'
if we in verse slay ourselves
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Screenplays I didn't really care about, journalism, travel books, getting my writer friends to write about their dreams or something. I just determined to write the books I had to write.
quote by Kazuo Ishiguro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A matter of opinion.
Some people say I am perverse
because I choose to write in verse.
The kind of stories I compose.
They think I ought to write in prose.
They have the right to I suppose.
But I won’t do as they propose.
I much prefer to write in verse
Because I think there’s nothing worse
Than badly written boring prose.
That is the reason why I chose.
To concentrate on rhyming verse.
I see no reason to reverse.
My original decision
to conform to your opinion.
I do not choose to write in prose
I am convinced that I would lose.
My rhyming capability
reducing my ability.
To write my words spontaneously.
I don’t expect you to agree.
Although I am compelled to write.
You’re free to exercise your right
To read or not as you choose to.
Though I confess I hope you do.
I know I can’t please everyone.
That is something that can’t be done
By any writer though they try
A truth no writer can deny.
Your comments are of interest
they spur me on to do my best.
We can agree to disagree
on which is best quite easily.
A poet must choose poetry.
But other writers are quite free.
to share their thoughts written in prose
Because they choose to I suppose.
If you should doubt my competence.
I will not choose to take offence.
You are entitled to your view
Please remember I am too
Sunday,02 May 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hark The Herald Angel Sing
Verse 1:
Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn king!
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled.
Joyful, all ye nations, rise,
Join the triumph of the skies;
With th angelic host proclaim,
Christ is born in bethlehem.
Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn king!
(the following verse is not sung on the boney m version)
Verse 2:
Christ, by highest heavn adored:
Christ, the everlasting lord;
Late in time behold him come,
Offspring of the favored one.
Veild in flesh, the godhead see;
Hail, thincarnate deity:
Pleased, as man, with men to dwell,
Jesus, our emmanuel!
Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn king!
Verse 3:
Hail! the heavn-born prince of peace!
Hail! the son of righteousness!
Light and life to all he brings,
Risen with healing in his wings
Mild he lays his glory by,
Born that man no more may die:
Born to raise the sone of earth,
Born to give them second birth.
Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn king!
Repeat verse 1
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Write On
(clarke / sylvester / hicks)
Write on, even though theres no one listening to your songs
Write on
Shine on, get it together, let your light break through
Shine on, baby, shine on
Write on, sitting on your own, waiting for the phone
Come on, come on, come on
Write on, for your fame and fortune will follow you, coming on strong
Coming on strong
Dont feel bad cos the radio aint playing em
It wont be long til youre going out and slayin em
Shine on
Youre not the first, you wont be the last
To feel the frustration of a musical fast
Write on, baby, write on
Sing your rock and roll with a touch of soul
Ballads with feeling, send your audience reeling
Rock on, rock on
Find a man with a van, a back up band
Wholl give you a hand on your one night stand
Rock on, baby, rock on
Give em your licks, getting off on their kicks
Swayin in motion to a rhythmic potion
Rock on, baby, rock on
Music freaks and all those hustlers
Hangers on, trying to make a con
Rock on
Dont sign on the line til you know its all fine
Its your life baby, you got to give it time
Rock on, baby, rock on
Verse 1
Verse 3
Verse 4
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writers Are Born Not Made
Ocean is dry
And fount not secreting
Wind still rove the dry land
In its usual way
I want to write
Everything in me want to write
Even though ocean is dry
And fog too thick i can't see remote place
I must write
I must make thess two lovers
Starring at each otherexpressionlessly
Make love to yield readables
Writers are born not made
Writers write and write
When ocean overflow its limit
When ocean overdry that feet could
Navigate the way of ships
Writers write and write
For is in them to write.
poem by Alade Abayomi IdrisWhite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Silence Of My Creativity
For you I write no more song
Nor will I write a verse.
The silence of my creativity
seems to be getting worse.
I say quietly to myself
it will come back once more.
I must be patient with my heart
and revert to how I was before.
And how was that? I can't recall.
Too many days have passed.
Will I write again a poem or song
or will I have written my last?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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You have to first be a writer and somebody who loves to write. If I couldn't travel, I would still write.
quote by Tim Cahill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are days when I intentionally don't write. For instance, I never write when I'm traveling, because travel is a situation where I can learn more by looking and listening than by working.
quote by Thomas Perry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Concrete
Dedicated to I.B. and K.L.
I rode with you in the city
and in my mind I was sleeping on his shoulder
the time to smile has passed for us
it’s gone, it’s but that doesn’t mean it’s over
I have said I loved
so many things, so many people in my life
my soul aches to this day to find
some truth inside those empty lies
but there are still the echoes
they travel through the alleys and bend
as we write in the concrete
love lies at the rainbow’s end
I walked with you on sidewalks
in places I had never seen
I trusted you with my heartfelt words,
my predictions, and my dreams
I have said I needed
so many things, so many people in my life
I hope that one day I will find
some truth hidden beneath the strife
and there are still the echoes
they travel through the alleys and bend
as we write in the concrete
love lies at the rainbow’s end
does nothing matter?
will nothing last?
can’t something be in the future
instead of in the past?
can’t I just breathe in
familiar air
in a familiar place
so I don’t have to wonder where?
there are still the echoes
they travel through the alleys and bend
as we write in the concrete
love lies at the rainbow’s end
can I hold on to anything?
are memories enough?
you write in the concrete
what is love?
poem by Jade Leven
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