I write music all the time. When I talk about having writer's block, it's more to do with lyrics than anything else.
quote by Sarah McLachlan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
A Writer’s Block
Sometimes when I listen to a song,
a word or a line in the lyrics
will prompt a poem from me;
I will then sit with pen in hand
and write something
about love and romance.
Another time something I see
will set my imagination aglow
and inspire me to write
a bit of social history.
However, those in a writer’s block
here is a tip from me,
just write about anything
and you will see how quickly
you will set your imagination free.
29 April 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Writer's Block in Prison
WRITER'S BLOCK IN PRISON
22 September 2004
Writer's block is a terrible thing
It stops you dead when you need it least
They say that when the time is right
The words will flow like wine at night.
But here I sit gazing out
at the trees and the grass and the flowers about
and the little red doors of the prison cells
and my thoughts go round and nothing comes out.
Ok, to work, tutor wants words -
An essay no less - but hasn't he heard
that essays are good but not all of us can
write just like that - maybe he can!
Tutor I think wants an essay in prose
But I am finding I cannot do those.
He'll have to accept this epistle I know
'cos that's all I'm doing
and he better accept it
'cos I ain't doing no more
the writer's block is back
and that's that.
poem by Dafyd Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I write the music because I can't really write lyrics. But I can write chords like Robin's never heard of. So I provide the music for them to add the lyrics to.
quote by Maurice Gibb
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Writer- a must?
Out of what does a writer write?
Out of hatred or perversion;
Out of denial or deprivation.
Why does a writer write?
To vent his anger or hatred.
To cry out from pain or lust.
How does a writer write?
By borrowing or distorting.
By modeling or duping.
For what does a writer write?
For an applause and a place.
It alone suits him, an idler.
What is the use of a writer?
For him to flaunt his skill.
For readers to idle away
Does the society need a writer?
Does a woman need cosmetics?
Writer is a part of civilization
16.05.2007.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Writer's Ink
I am the writer's ink,
So just write with me without any fear;
I will move more than expected,
I will write more than expected,
I am the writer's ink.
Use me slowly or even faster,
I will talk more than expected;
I do have the message to teach everyone.
Of the beauty of communication,
I am used by everyone;
I am the writer's ink,
I do make people sad or glad;
My ink makes rulers sad,
My ink makes personalities sad,
My ink makes the common man sad,
The way i am used matters.
I am the writer's ink,
I am not expensive;
Buy me and use me always.
How can a country like Ghana be poor? !
Ghana has gold, oil, cocoa and timber;
There are also diamond, bauxite and other minerals;
How then can Ghana be poor? !
The writer's ink should tell us more.
Mismanagement is the food in the country,
Ghana has really more than it needs;
This country shouldn't be poor.
What the leaders say on air is not,
What we see on the ground;
I am the talkative ready to talk.
I am the writer's ink,
I will always speak the truth!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One of the hardest things about writing lyrics is to make the lyrics sit on the music in such a way that you're not aware there was a writer there.
quote by Stephen Sondheim
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Writer's Drought
You've heard of a thing called writer's block and you've heard of writer's drought
But writers are never short of things on which they can write about
It's just at times their inspiration well does seem to run dry
And they cannot seem to pen a line though hard enough they try.
The writers drought it causes writers moments of self doubt
Till the words that seem locked in them eventually flow out
Through their pens to their notebooks their dry spells do not last
And on time lost out on penning words they seem to catch up fast.
Some writers in their writing drought cannot seem to feel inspired
To write even a single line they feel mentally tired
But when fresh inspiration comes to them much better stuff they do write
And feeling re-invigorated they sit and pen all night.
Most writers you will talk to of writers drought can tell
When there is no inspiration in their inspiration well
But when inspiration returns to them and their creative juices flow
They become much better writers and in self confidence grow.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lost In The Music
the music you write
makes my mind soar
the music you write
makes me want to dance
the music you write
is like a lullaby
the music you write
makes my heart jump
the music you write
makes me want to hear it again
the music you write
is like a shooting star
the music you write
makes me fall in love with you
the music you write
is like a shower in a drought
the music you write
is like a dream that i don't want to wake up from
i get lost in the music you write
poem by Brittney Crozier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paperback Writer
(LennonMcCartney)
Paperback writer
Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It's based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's the dirty story of a dirty man
And his clinging wife doesn't understand
His son is working for the Daily Mail
It's a steady job but he wants to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's a thousand pages, give or take a few
I'll be writing more in a week or two
I can make it longer if you like the style
I can change it round and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
If you really like it you can have the rights
It could make a million for you overnight
If you must return it, you can send it here
But I need a break and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer (fade out)
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
What Is A Writer's Block?
i am looking for a writer's block?
what is the number of its street?
what is its name?
what is the number of its block?
what landmark fronts it?
is it near the chapel? is it at the side
of the marketplace?
i have never been there
condemned, i shall write
without stopping.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Requiem For A Poet
The ground laid waste beneath me
no flowering fruits lay there,
no fertility of imagination,
no quest to ride upon.
Gone are the flowing shrub of words
that coloured the winding path
upon which poets tread.
Left behind the words dissolve
and the metre melts away.
Maybe some day in the future
this pen will write again,
but until that day comes along,
this is a requiem for a poet.
and so long to all his friends.
19 February 2011
Author’s Note:
Before anyone thinks that I am giving up writing or I am in a writer’s block. This is just a poem as I am neither giving up or in a writer’s block..
DVH
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I wasn't writing the music. Ed would write a piece of music. I'd listen to it and come up with a melody and then we would arrange it. We'd put it together and I would write lyrics to my melodies.
quote by Sammy Hagar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lady Writer
Lady writer on the tv
Talk about the virgin mary
Reminded me of you
Expectation left to come up to yeah
Lady writer on the tv
She had another quality
The way you used to look
And I know you never read a book
Just the way that her hair fell down around her face
And I recall my fall from grace
Another time, another place
Lady writer on the tv
She had all the brains and the beauty
The pictures does not fit
Youd talk to me when you felt like it
Just the way that her hair fell down around her face
And I recall my fall from grace
Another time another place
Yes and your rich old man,
You know hed a call her a dead ringer
You got the same command
Plus your mother was a jazz singer
Just the way that her hair fell down around her face
And I recall my fall from grace
Another time another place
Lady writer on the tv
She knew all about a history
You couldnt hardly write your name
I think I want it just the same as the ...
Lady writer on the tv
Talking about the virgin mary
You know Im talking about you and me
And the lady writer on the tv
Talking about the virgin mary
Yeah you know Im talking about you and me
And the lady writer on the tv
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Poems and Poetry
I sat staring
At my blank writing pad,
With pen in my hand.
It was a poetry workshop,
We were told
To try different structural forms:
Epigram, Sonnets, Limericks,
Lyrics, which could be set to music.
But I admit, I just
Can’t write on demand.
Is it a mental block
Which I can’t unlock?
It becomes difficult
For me to make a start.
As I just write from the heart.
But I don’t argue
These are Classical forms,
Which require skill
To write within the confines
Of prescribed norms:
Meter and syllable count.
It does lift
The work from plebian
And adds spunk
To stimulate readers mind,
As I find
When I read works of Shakespeare
And others of his kind.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
About My Very Tortured Friend, Peter
he lives in a house with a swimming pool
and says the job is
killing him.
he is 27. I am 44. I can’t seem to
get rid of
him. his novels keep coming
back. “what do you expect me to do?” he screams
“go to New York and pump the hands of the
publishers?”
“no,” I tell him, “but quit your job, go into a
small room and do the
thing.”
“but I need ASSURANCE, I need something to
go by, some word, some sign!”
“some men did not think that way:
Van Gogh, Wagner—”
“oh hell, Van Gogh had a brother who gave him
paints whenever he
needed them!”
“look,” he said, “I’m over at this broad’s house today and
this guy walks in. a salesman. you know
how they talk. drove up in this new
car. talked about his vacation. said he went to
Frisco—saw Fidelio up there but forgot who
wrote it. now this guy is 54 years
old. so I told him: ‘Fidelio is Beethoven’s only
opera.’ and then I told
him: ‘you’re a jerk!’ ‘whatcha mean?’ he
asked. ‘I mean, you’re a jerk, you’re 54 years old and
you don’t know anything!’”
“what happened
then?”
“I walked out.”
“you mean you left him there with
her?”
“yes.”
“I can’t quit my job,” he said. “I always have trouble getting a
job. I walk in, they look at me, listen to me talk and
they think right away, ah ha! he’s too intelligent for
this job, he won’t stay
so there’s really no sense in hiring
him.
now, YOU walk into a place and you don’t have any trouble:
you look like an old wino, you look like a guy who needs a
job and they look at you and they think:
ah ha!: now here’s a guy who really needs work! if we hire
him he’ll stay a long time and work
HARD!”
“do any of those people,” he asks “know you are a
writer, that you write poetry?”
“no.”
“you never talk about
it. not even to
me! if I hadn’t seen you in that magazine I’d
have never known.”
“that’s right.”
“still, I’d like to tell these people that you are a
writer.”
“I’d still like to
tell them.”
“why?”
“well, they talk about you. they think you are just a
horseplayer and a drunk.”
“I am both of those.”
“well, they talk about you. you have odd ways. you travel alone.
I’m the only friend you
have.”
“yes.”
“they talk you down. I’d like to defend you. I’d like to tell
them you write
poetry.”
“leave it alone. I work here like they
do. we’re all the same.”
“well, I’d like to do it for myself then. I want them to know why
I travel with
you. I speak 7 languages, I know my music—”
“forget it.”
“all right, I’ll respect your
wishes. but there’s something else—”
“what?”
“I’ve been thinking about getting a
piano. but then I’ve been thinking about getting a
violin too but I can’t make up my
mind!”
“buy a piano.”
“you think
so?”
“yes.”
he walks away
thinking about
it.
I was thinking about it
too: I figure he can always come over with his
violin and more
sad music.
poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To be a writer
They say, when you have nothing to say
Do not say anything
They say when you have nothing good to say
Do not say anything
He is not convinced
He wants to be a writer and to be one he must write
What is in his mind
To be a writer he must write and write and write
Even when there is nothing to write
Even when there is nothing to say even when nobody listens
Even when the word is dead even when there is no sense at all
Even when he gets blind and deaf and mute even when his fingers are cut even when his mind is blank even when his consciousness is lost
Even when you are angry even when you say what is written is nothing
But trash, dung, cadaver, corpse, poo, pee, even when there is nothing
Anymore,
He writes because he is a writer and no one can stop him now.
he is
he is writing
he is writing always
he is writing always whatever that needs to be written
and here you are foolishly reading. thanks to you, audience of one.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We all write the music, and then Mark and Tom write the lyrics.
quote by Travis Barker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sometimes my boyfriend would write the lyrics and I would write the melody, and other times I would start from scratch. Or sometimes I would take a local poem and put that to music.
quote by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Writer
Night Writer
Why not write now
No time can be righter
No one to tell you how
To live your life
Or design for you your lies
Does it suffice to have a wife
To tell you when it satisfies?
You've written before
Little at night, more by day
At night write more
You'll discover a way
To make stars into a sun
That will shine for you as gold
But gold is as good as gone
When you get to be this old
Poem writer
Up and write about modesty
It's what everyone talks about
That's you and your honesty
Who cares if the others doubt?
You came in time
But does time know who you are?
You have a claim on rhyme
But rhythm takes the measure by far
Into a new realm
Of words on words on words
They just overwhelm
Can't you hear what they've heard?
Maybe hearing loss
Is not the loss of hearing
Maybe it's that distant toss
When you hear the echo before the feeling
Now you're here and now
Now is the time's to write
Now's the time to fulfill every vow
Now's not the time to lose sight
Of what you might lose
If you don't write every night.
poem by Ragy Sandid
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Music Sings Within Me
Music speaks my language
what ever mood im in
passion
or sadness
music sings within
music calms my troubles
shows ever possible ending
with lyrics to different songs
music sings within
music shows me friendship
like happiness
and to never leave my side
music sings within
music sings within me
it speaks my language
calms my troubles
shows me friendship
music sings within
theres not one song that represents me
or my oh but unique life
theres not one song
thats dark enough
for those silly little fights
but bright enough for when i see you
not one song shows
how i feel when
i write along my arms
or when i lay currled up in a ball on a cold winters day
music sings within me
diffrent lyrics for everyday
this is the song of my life
i choose when to press
stop, pause, or play.
poem by Katie Norton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!