I feel like the writer observing the grief, but it is difficult to be detached from it.
quote by Hugh Leonard

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes

The great advantage of being a writer is that you can spy on people. You're there, listening to every word, but part of you is observing. Everything is useful to a writer, you see - every scrap, even the longest and most boring of luncheon parties.
quote by Graham Greene

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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A Writer's Dream
A writer's dream
You keep trying
Never denying to one day achieve
Despite what most believe
A writer's dream
You never give up
Regardless of what others may say
But wait patiently until that day
A writer's dream
Although it's been a while
It made you smile
To see your dream coming through
No matter how long it seemed to you
A writer's dream
You always believed in yourself
That's why your time has come
To be a successful writer
With the privilege of making much income
A writer's dream
You're happy to finally get this far
The world knows just who you are
Now this new sudden fame
Makes you feel like a star
poem by Donielle Smith

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All These Things
Sometimes I don’t feel who I am.
I don’t feel like what I write
because I don’t want to be pigeonholed
for just one thing I do.
I think myself as a whole
and not just one object.
I call myself a writer,
not a poet,
not a novelist,
neither a songwriter
nor a short story writer be.
I am a writer
because all those things
emulate from within me.
10 April 2009
poem by David Harris

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I Am More A Poet
I AM MORE A POET THAN ANY OTHER KIND OF WRITER
I am more a poet than any other kind of writer-
But I am not a pure poet -
And not the best of what a poet could be-
I 'think' in my poetry
And it tells me what I dream and feel-
It is my soul-
God made me a poet
Perhaps not a good one as I would have liked to be-
It is so wonderful to be able to write these lines now
After long long hours of difficult silence.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Life is a tide; float on it. Go down with it and go up with it, but be detached. Then it is not difficult.
quote by Prem Rawat

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thecom
you choose your fate is grief is what I feel when someone passes away grief is what I feel when i' am concerned grief what I when i have done wrong grief is what I feel when some accident happens
poem by Brandon Edwards

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The Six-O-Clock News
He stands transfixed on a road to nowhere
Pregnant and traumatised she stares into empty space
His voice is one of complete despair we have nothing
Yesterday he dispensed drugs to the sick and suffering
Today on this road to nowhere he stands bewildered.
I sit in front of the screen sobbing with grief for them
For the rest of us who sit by and can do nothing
I have entered their grief and seen their powerlessness
Yet unlike my vocational calling, I can do nor say anything
I view as one like the ancient gods of Greece on Olympus
Detached and far away, yet I feel the pain and despair
They scream at me from their faces, their body language
So I sob and sob, wondering for whom do I feel so sad
For on both sides of the glass we are powerless
So the bombs still fall and people are left in despair.
poem by James Tipp

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Stand Alone Complex
I stand alone,
I fall apart.
In my deepest sorrow i grief.
I grief for a touch, for a smile...
I grief for love;
I grief for live...
I grief and i beg,
For the heat of an angel to save me...
For the simplest touch of a lover...
For the complex soul of a writer...
And i fall apart
I stand alone...
I stand alone complex.
28th January 1010
poem by DarkShaya Naiyamoto

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Just To Say You Can Be Beaten
To feel each minute,
You are not in it.
But you can not give up or let go.
Although you know it is difficult,
To jog up a slope...
While observing others eating sandwiches,
As they pass you riding on the backs...
And shoulders of those paid to exchange positions,
They have convinced that the doing of it makes sense.
Even though you are made to look the fool,
At their own expense.
Just to say you can be beaten,
Regardless if their efforts includes an entire team.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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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

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Feeling More Like a Dinosaur
They're free,
To flitter and twitter quicker,
And text like busy bees.
With neurotic overtones,
Humming tunes...
Only they can hear to please.
Playing games held in their hands.
With the clearness of TV!
And I'm...
With no cellphone on me.
When I hear someone say 'hello'.
I respond with a smile that's quick.
To get a look as if I am the one,
Invading in on private business.
Electronically I am alone.
Since I refuse to be that detached.
Like those earplugged to satellites,
Beaming signals to distract.
Electronically I am alone.
Since I refuse to be that detached.
And yet I feel so out of it...
When 'wassup? ' is all I'm asked!
'Wassup? You down in the hood, yo?
To grab a bite of sites?
Or are you just breezin' digging on the pace? '
Uh...uh...
'Latah, dude!
You done slid into the ages.'
Uh...uh...
Yeah!
Cool.
Electronically I am alone.
Since I refuse to be that detached.
And yet I feel so out of it...
When 'wassup? ' is all I'm asked!
Uh...uh...
Yeah, yo!
High five on that!
'Latah, dude!
You done slid into the ages.'
God?
'Who' and 'what'...
Are these people?
'Say what?
Who you talkin' to?
Crazy old man! '
GOD?
Is that you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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What's so difficult...
What's so difficult,
About the word,
No.
What's so difficult,
About our,
Relationship.
What's so difficult,
About,
Us.
What's so difficult,
About the words,
Stay away.
What's so difficult,
About,
Don't talk to me.
What's so difficult...
poem by Dragon Crenshaw

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Unattached for Docking
Being detached
Doesn't mean an attraction isn't needed,
Isn't wanted or wished.
Being detached means a hopeful encounter
Comes...
Unattached for docking!
To rejuvenate idle juices.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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The best doctors found a middle position where they were neither overwhelmed by their feelings nor estranged from them. That was the most difficult position of all, and the precise balance — neither too detached nor too caring — was something few learned.
quote by Michael Crichton

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Million-Pound-Semi-Detached (Demo Recording)
Haven't we come a long way
From newly-weds in our bed-sitter flat?
We skimped and scraped every penny
For a down payment on our semi-detached.
New towns for all the young hopefuls,
A garden suburb with mortgage attached,
Oh, look at us now, sale all agreed, now it's time to exchange the contracts
With the people who sold us a million-pound semi.
Straight out of national service,
Demob suits and short back and sides,
And saw the bomb sites turned air-raid shelters,
Where their families lived all of their lives.
Then the nation built them a utopia,
With pebbledash on the outside, oh,
Look at them now, they've come a long way, they are affluent and bursting with pride.
Soon we'll be sitting inside that million-pound semi-detached,
Detached, in our million-pound semi-detached.
Looking back at the past of this million-pound semi.
Two up two down, a back garden, that was the dream,
Two kids, a cat and a dog, that was the scheme.
Then the kids both grew up and got married and moved out of home,
Then we were strangers again, together alone.
Look at us now, what are we like,
Sitting alone in our million-pound semi-detached?
They're all taking early retirement, the sum total of all of their lives.
Now the country is fat with inflation, immigration has helped us survive.
Once an Englishman's home was his castle,
Now it's a freehold investment to buy, oh,
Look at us now, our debts are all paid, and the Empire has really struck back.
We're the proud owners of a one-million-pound semi-detached,
So detached in our million-pound semi-detached.
A new generation is buying and starting anew,
And learning by all their mistakes the way people do.
Like all the young hopefuls we're buying the future from you,
We hope that one day we'll understand what you've both been through.
Look at us now, what are we like,
Sitting alone, in our million-pound semi-detached?
Look at us now, what are we like,
Sitting alone, in our million-pound semi-detached?
song performed by by Kinks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Between Grief And Nothing
Between grief and nothing some will take grief,
but those who take nothing will surely regret
that they can’t be robbed in good time, that’s a thief,
of memories grief cannot make them forget.
In Jean-Paul Godard’s “Breathless” Patricia Clarke, whose short hair is like that of Marion Amsellem whom someone once accused of being a lesbian although, as someone said at her funeral today, “She hasn’t got a gay bone in her body, ” asks Jean-Paul Belmondo, who is lying in her hotel bedroom smoking a cigarette, of course, and trying to screw her for the third time in his life: “Do you know William Faulkner? ” “No, ” he replies. “Have you slept with him? ” “No, ” she replies, and adds, “He is a writer, and I want to read you something from “The Wild Palms.” And she reads aloud: “Between grief and nothing I will take grief.”
5/20/08
poem by Gershon Hepner

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What old sadness can I let go of by sharing it today
How can we measure the grief we feel and and how we could put up with it. Doesn't the grief of death weight a ton or more. Doesn't it strenth out to a month a year or still longer. Is the grief of failture lighter then then the grief of empyness. Wheather we try to ingore or make light of it our grief like a ton of feathers or a ton of rocks is all the same to us. This much is sure if we lock our grief it will weight more on us. Andlengthen out if we open our hearts with weeping and words others will help carry it away. written and Posted 1/1/10
poem by Susie Sunshine

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The Million-pound-semi-detached
Havent we come a long way
From newly-weds in our bed-sitter flat?
We skimped and scraped every penny
For a down payment on our semi-detached.
New towns for all the young hopefuls,
A garden suburb with mortgage attached,
Oh, look at us now, sale all agreed, now its time to exchange the contracts
With the people who sold us a million-pound semi.
Straight out of national service,
Demob suits and short back and sides,
And saw the bomb sites turned air-raid shelters,
Where their families lived all of their lives.
Then the nation built them a utopia,
With pebbledash on the outside, oh,
Look at them now, theyve come a long way, they are affluent and bursting with pride.
Soon well be sitting inside that million-pound semi-detached,
Detached, in our million-pound semi-detached.
Looking back at the past of this million-pound semi.
Two up two down, a back garden, that was the dream,
Two kids, a cat and a dog, that was the scheme.
Then the kids both grew up and got married and moved out of home,
Then we were strangers again, together alone.
Look at us now, what are we like,
Sitting alone in our million-pound semi-detached?
Theyre all taking early retirement, the sum total of all of their lives.
Now the country is fat with inflation, immigration has helped us survive.
Once an englishmans home was his castle,
Now its a freehold investment to buy, oh,
Look at us now, our debts are all paid, and the empire has really struck back.
Were the proud owners of a one-million-pound semi-detached,
So detached in our million-pound semi-detached.
A new generation is buying and starting anew,
And learning by all their mistakes the way people do.
Like all the young hopefuls were buying the future from you,
We hope that one day well understand what youve both been through.
Look at us now, what are we like,
Sitting alone, in our million-pound semi-detached?
Look at us now, what are we like,
Sitting alone, in our million-pound semi-detached?
song performed by by Kinks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unknown Grief
Unknown Grief
Mark Kelly Wassenaar (AKA Wazzy)
You never expect to know the word grief
Until it comes to you
It comes in, like a thief
Then you take a critical review
Who really knows what grief is
It could be you, or me, or your teddy bear
If only we could see his
Come with me, I’ll give you a dare
All I ask is that you’ll see
What grief does to you and me
Maybe at the end we’ll all agree
That it need not be all for thee
Have you seen death of one or more
Have they been of love or worse
Does it cause a whole body war
Does it put you in a hearse
If all these apply to you
Maybe you know what grief may be
All this time you withdrew
It makes you feel like abductees
If you like, you may join my cause
Get together with your bands
To end all grief within our paws
To clear our enemy from our hands
poem by Mark Wazzy

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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