I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end.
quote by Gilda Radner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.
quote by Gilda Radner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How To Write A Novel
How to write a Novel
I like to write a book, any book as long as it has my name on the cover.
A one day course, how to write a novel. The course leader, a published
writer, wore a long dress but I could see her ankles, they were beautiful
and much younger than the rest of her. Dyed, red hair, face very pale,
presumable from sitting in all day writing how-to books.
Beginning, middle and an end, yes, like life, capricious in the middle,
the ending tends to write itself. Sudden endings are best, run over by
a bus, or a train crash, where cell phones go on ringing in the broken
interior. Then silence. Long ending are best being avoided, hospital bed
pages after pages, endless days, exhausted relatives.
Lovely ankles, did she paint her toenails red? She wore flat shoes
sensible for any woman over fifty. Classroom empty, they had all gone
out for lunch, I went to the pub and stayed there. Beginning, middle and
an ending, what more is there to know?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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My Poems Have Become Disordered
MY POEMS HAVE BECOME DISORDERED
My poems have become disordered-
They have lost their logic-
I do not know how to control them-
They break off in the middle
and go on in differerent directions
and cannot be brought back together
into a proper ending-
My poems have become disordered
as my mind
as my life
as all I do these days-
perhaps one day I tell myself
it will all be together again-
But for now
I go one way
my poems go another
and something in me
goes somewhere else
neither I nor my poetry know-
So that we are now perhaps
at the end of a poem
which not long ago
quietly and sadly
was only just begun.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Always The Poems In Me
Always the poems in me-
Saying themselves over and over
Returning to lines learned long ago
Or lines learned with more difficulty in old age-
Always the poems in me-
While my own poems written
And forgotten
As if only
Poems of a single occasion
The time of their writing-
Always the poems in me-
The poems which others will have in them after me
Poems not my own.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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People have forgotten how to tell a story. Stories don't have a middle or an end any more. They usually have a beginning that never stops beginning.
quote by Steven Spielberg
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Beginning, Middle And An End
Every story has
a beginning, middle and an end,
but don't ask me where I am
because I won't know until I die.
Some live poor, begging food everyday,
others live rich, as rich as Rockefeller.
Others live as gangsters just like Al Capone.
While others live as lawmen, Sherlock is the name
I live my life with stories
that flow from my pen
and everyone I write has
a beginning, middle and an end.
21 February 2012
poem by David Harris
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I Know Only Poems With Rhyme
To the children of the world
I know only poems with rhyme
That stay in tune with ev’ry clime.
I know only poems with beat
That make me stand up on my feet.
When poets all have breathed their last,
And poems are buried in dust,
Then children will come out in time
To dig the poems, black with grime.
And when the cloud of dust is gone,
And children are through having fun,
They’ll throw away poems like lime
But pick up only those with rhyme.
poem by Gilbert Pangyarihan
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Clever All Pleasing Poems
who writes clever all pleasing poems...
such a poet must surely steer safe passage clear
of floating minefield topics politics religion
to please all with any poem
is rather a mission impossible
there are those who love rhyme
there are those who hate rhyme
love or hate nature love poems
love hate every other topic possible
we seem to live in an age where
the personal 'I am offended by that'
is a trivial attention seeking sport
which belittles writ serious issues
thus our Poem Impossible Team
seeking to write all pleasing poems
must also entertain
in an attempt to crack
serious hard cases
from mask too serious
a judgemental frown
quick write poet clown...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Pretty Little Dum Dum
Flaoting in a circle of illusion and deceit
drifting far beneath the skin
the taste of bitter sweet
giving into fantasies
playing every part
its hard to break away from what he says you are
chorus:
he calls you pretty little dum dum
he says he loves you but he lies
he says that your the one one
but thats eleven in his eyes
what ever happens from one through ten
dont be a victim of his past tense
pretty little one one
dont dont dont be a pretty little dum dum
a never ending silence
in a never ending sleep
walking through darkness
complicated melodies
praying for a change of heart
and looking for a sign
its hard to find the love you want in broken time
chorus:
its hard to be what you wanna be
and you wanted to be the one
but you know that you have to run
your lifes incomplete
its so bittersweet
and you wanted to be the one
but you know that you have to run
its hard to be what you wanted to be
chorus:
song performed by by Anastacia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My recovery (21 POEMS)
Twenty one...some number
Twenty one poems I can’t remember
21....waiting for you to re-discover
If only I could have seen this story foretold
It hurts to know they never had the chance to see the world
They were my hidden acclamation
All they ever wanted was a public proclamation
I didn’t because they were conceived by my emotion
As d old saying goes 'it probably happen for a reason'
21 poems all gone
In the middle of the night someone broke into my home
Twenty one poems all gone
Why did I only save them in my phone?
I miss my babies
Now they’re just fading memories
I desperately try 2 remember
It’s sooooo hard to conceive (write) another
SiGH *mylostlove*
poem by Anita Khelawan
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I Knew You
I knew you before you knew
Who you wanted to be
Now I see the new you
She's a perfect stranger to me
Loves unkind, for I find
If only saw, the best of you
But my mind, not so blind
Showed my heart the rest of you
Scheming lies and alibis
That butter wouldn't melt disguise
With happy ever after eyes
That made a fool of me
I knew you before you knew
Who you wanted to be
Now I see the new you
She's a perfect stranger to me
She's a perfect stranger to me
Love is cruel It makes a fool
Of one who thought we had it all
All bridges burned, the lesson learned
You never really loved at all
Now you're gone, I'm on my own
Don't come around, don't even phone
Please leave a happy man alone
And we can both be free
I knew you before you knew
Who you wanted to be
Now I see the new you
She's a perfect stranger to me
She's a perfect stranger to me
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Pursuit Of Happiness
In the pursuit of happiness, ..
I have crossed many bridges…
Climbed many mountains
& traveled many roads;
Some very smooth..
some very bumpy..
I have run very fast…
sometimes very slow…
But, nevertheless,
I have learned my lessons…
I have learned the hard & painful way…
That not all dreams come true..
Happiness becomes a matter.
of the mind and the heart…
Now I cry without tears...
& try to mend my broken heart…
Now I realize..
that where there is an ending..
There is a new beginning..
& what I thought was a loss..
turned out to be..
a blessing from the sky...
COPY WRITE©2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Everything That You Want
(randy sharp, jack weslet routh)
In the beginning
The nights were long
Under the moonlight
I could do no wrong
You told me
I was everything you wanted me to be
Then summer was over
And the nights grew cold
You got restless
And hard to hold
I tried to be
Everything you wanted me to be
Now you keep staring
At that open door
You got what you wanted
And you still want more
Well look at me
Im everything you wanted me to be
Chorus:
Well if I dont keep you satisfied
You cant say that I havent tried
And if Im not what you want by now
For the life of me I cant see how
Ill ever be
Everything that you want me to be
In the beginning
The nights were long
Under the moonlight
I could do no wrong
Remember me?
I was everything you wanted me to be
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beginning To See The Light
(reed)
Well Im beginning to see the light.
Well Im beginning to see the light.
Some people work very hard,
But still they never get it right.
Well Im beginning to see the light.
Well Im beginning to see the light.
Now Im beginning to see the light.
Wine in the morning
And some breakfast at night.
Well Im beginning to see the light.
Here we go again
Playing the fool again.
Here we go again
Acting hard again.
Well Im beginning to see the light.
Well Im beginning to see the light.
Now Im beginning to see the light.
Well Im beginning to see the light.
Im beginning to see the light.
I wore my teeth in my hands
So I could mess the hair of the night
Well Im beginning to see the light.
Hey Im beginning to see the light.
I met myself in a dream
And I just wanna tell you - everything was alright
Im beginning to see the light.
Here comes two of you,
Which one will you chose?
One is black, one is blue.
Dont look just what to do.
Well Im beginning to see the light.
Well Im beginning to see the light.
Now Im beginning to see the light.
Well Im beginning to see the light.
Well Im beginning to see the light.
Some people work very hard
But still they never get it right
Well Im beginning to see the light.
There are problems in these times
But none of them are mine
Baby, Im beginning to see the light.
Here we go again,
I thought that you were my friend.
Here we go again,
I thought that you were my friend.
How does it feel to be loved?
How does it feel to be loved?
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The History Poems Have Not Been Written
The history poems have not been written
The poems after Milosz
The Wallace Stevens poems will never be written
I can’t come close
I have tried the Blake poems
But of course I am not near them either
I would like to the ironic intellectual poems
I might be able to do them
I could do a kind of surrealistic association mind poem a prose poem
But I don’t like that very much
The poems of Jerusalem have not been good enough
Poems of propaganda are awkward and unacceptable
The small poems that tell of my life
They are for me the chance at real poetry
And I will continue as best I can with them
The American poems I have not yet found the idiom for
I can be epigrammatic in Emerson Thoreau fashion
But not with the hard New England observing eye
Borges poems I love
And the stories of mind and literature
Making the drama of a life of a storyteller
Interest me
But I doubt I could truly do them well
Imitation can only take one so far
And through it one may lose one’s way entirely
I can really do only what I am
Not the Dickinson poems nor the Hopkins poems nor the Wordsworth poems nor the Keats poems nor the Amichai poems nor the poems of many others whose poetry I love
The Biblical poems have been tried
The poems of cosmic and scientific reflection
I could try to improve them
There are too many different kinds of poems to write
And I cannot write almost all of them
This is another poem about poems and poetry
I have written many for a long time now
Perhaps I need to go elsewhere and write in a new way
A way I have not dreamed or even remotely understood possible before.
The poems of the unknown poetry await me
I will go on but I am not sure now I know in which wa
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Moments Of Writing Poetry
Draft poems sometimes like
loose ripped off pieces of paper
to be drafted out roughly upon.
Draft poems hang around
in the strangest places waiting
to be written out one day.
Draft poems wait for a poet
to wake at the beginning of day
to be written out, in any
seized moments, sacrificed.
This is now time, shower time, eating time,
reflective time, conversation time, work time;
t.v. time, driving time, riding motorcycle time,
going to sleep time, cooking time, or any time.
Draft poems can only be written
in spared moments of seized time.
Draft poems can only be written today,
they will not wait for fair weather like hay,
which lays around waiting to be harvested.
Draft poems will not wait for a clear sunny day to dawn,
and then mature slowly, over a perfect golden summer.
Draft poems are ever now or never
if they are ever to be swiftly written.
A draft may possibly be perfected
upon any future day of favoured writing;
but a draft never written is a poem
never written, never completed, never known.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Face To Face (feat. Linda Davis)
In the beginning
The nights were long
Under the moonlight
I could do no wrong
You told me
I was everything you wanted me to be
Then summer was over
And the nights grew cold
You got restless
And hard to hold
I tried to be
Everything you wanted me to be
Now you keep staring
At that open door
You got what you wanted
And you still want more
Well look at me
I'm everything you wanted me to be
Chorus:
Well if I don't keep you satisfied
You can't say that I haven't tried
And if I'm not what you want by now
For the life of me I can't see how
I'll ever be
Everything you want me to be
In the beginning
The nights were long
Under the moonlight
I could do no wrong
Remember me?
I was everything you wanted me to be
(Randy Sharp, Jack Wesley Routh)
Copyright 1994 Longitude Music Co.
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Greatest Poem
Good poems don't rhyme
Great poems don't have rhythm
The greatest poem is not one on paper but said out loud
Good poems are about flowers and puppies
Great poems are about peace and happiness
The greatest poems are about change
What should change.
how it should change.
And who should change.
Most of all the greatest poem is not one about the life you wanted to live
But the one you are living.
poem by Getasew Shumet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Poems
When I sing poems, I sing for me and for me alone. As I read my poems, I see that I have much to perfect in this art. I force rhyme schemes, my rythm goes into off beat tangents, I have more song than substance, incomplete incongruous thoughts, terrible syntax, obscure, almost too obscure meanings but beauty I have and love, and an honest heart. I realize my poems are me, all my inconsistencies, flaws, beauty and love. That's why I sing poems, sing for me and me alone…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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How This Universe Ryhme So Well?
the beginning is chaos
so the end shall be, also chaos
there is no order, there is even
no beginning, there is no systematic ending
wanton is the conception and
disorder is the truth, not that this is what you see
today or tomorrow or yesterday they are all one
there is no space in between
yet you refuse to believe and you write
to please everyone and make them believe
in the pleasing personality of the world of
rhymes and clock ticking at the middle of the night
you perceive order and you organize the system
please yourself and then suddenly
tears fall on the letters and smother the print
of your orderly paper world
you suffuse anger on the pen
i ponder upon the blot and rethink what i think was always right
back to chaos, i ask how can you like the rhyme and the rhythm?
how can you ever live in this fantasy?
in my free verse, i say what i say, and life speaks to me
like i am life itself, and freed from hypocrisy, the truth gets in
jagged, rugged, and pulsating
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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