For this purpose I determined to keep an account of the voyage, and to write down punctually every thing we performed or saw from day to day, as will hereafter appear.
quote by Christopher Columbus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Terminator
I can go way back in my mind
This music thing was a joke
I didn't do my time
They couldn't finally bring me up
Now I do it real tough
And I'm rough
Come on I'm the terminator for all
Hurry up y'all its time to go on
I love to hate em
This is my story yo
I'm a terminator determined to end your life
I'm a terminator determined to end your life
I'm a terminator
I'm a terminator determined to end your life
I'm a terminator determined to end your life
I'm a terminator
Can I ever have good luck?
Seems in life
song performed by by Sevendust
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sailed this day nineteen leagues, and determined to count less than the true number, that the crew might not be dismayed if the voyage should prove long.
quote by Christopher Columbus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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0005 Letter to a Younger Poet
Thanks for your letter. Though
you’ve caught me at a rather awkward time –
I’m going into surgery tomorrow – a rather
risky op; so I’ll try to put all the answers that I’ve got
into this one letter;
I hope you'll understand...
and that helps me to make my first point to you:
write as if you, too, may not live
beyond tomorrow – write as if
it’s the last thing that you’ll ever write –
give it everything you’ve got,
hold nothing back;
or better still – write as if
the world will end for everyone tomorrow:
write so that in their last hours, too, this
will make them feel, will make them know
we’ve faced life fully, faced it so complete
that death is relatively unimportant now…
write as if it were only yesterday
that, in an air crash, all your family –
parents, wife or husband, partner, children, and best friend,
had lost their lives; write as if,
were you not to write,
your heart would break forever, or you would go mad...
write as if you’re writing somewhere
where there’s no such thing around, as ink;
you’ll have to use your own blood in the pen,
so use it carefully; so red, so living,
look at it… so beautiful, so precious,
and so solemn – use it carefully, don’t spill a drop…
write as if you’re borrowing every word
from the very centre of the universe, where suns and gods are made;
and need thus to account for every word
with your whole life, no less; know that every word
must be given back, cleaner, stronger, brighter
with your own power, than when you borrowed it;
write as if every poet that ever lived
is leaning over your shoulder, so that you
can feel their breath upon your neck as they say
‘Tell them all that we would tell,
but cannot now; tell them all of this’…
this, now, is how you must deeply be and speak;
write as if you are the only being on earth
who can tell them this; as if tomorrow, if tomorrow comes,
you shall visit them every one, at home,
and look them in the eye; write as if
you love them more than they will ever know;
write as if you were offering to live their lives with them;
write as if you were a force of nature in yourself:
as if whatever earthquake, hurricane or flood might do,
whatever law or love may greatly do,
whatever gods or men can speak, in fullest force,
this you may do, because the sound of poetry is such;
yes, write ‘as if’ – but know you really write ‘because’…
write as if – no, write because –
you know that only poetry can tell
all, that must be told, and must be known;
and as all hearts melt in the heat of your own love,
be in no doubt – and see that all are in no doubt too –
that life was never, never more serious,
never more glorious, than it is right now;
write all this.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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To Be Of No One's Advantage
A novelty.
A thing.
A commodity.
Something thought to be without feeling.
Used and discussed.
Disrespected for purpose and meaning.
Disregarded and quietly diminished.
Finished!
To be of no one's advantage as planned.
And as planned it is determined,
No one benefits.
Even those who manipulate the outcome.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Do You Write Poetry
There is a question I am often asked,
of which I have no answer for at all.
The question is a simple one,
how do you write poetry?
To be honest I haven’t got a clue.
With me the words just trickle out
one after the other,
if they rhyme that is great
and if they don’t, I just scratch my head.
I cannot tell anyone how to write,
for me it’s just a natural thing.
I write almost everything,
novels, short stories, poems and songs.
I have even written a couple of plays,
but that was a long, long time ago.
However to tell anyone how to write,
I would not know where to begin.
The answer I give to the question is simple;
write whatever you like good or bad.
It’s yours and be proud of it
no matter what anyone else has to say.
The more you write the better you will get.
However, the most important thing
that you should always remember and that is
that you write, write, and write!
9 November 2011
poem by David Harris
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Villanelle
A dainty thing's the Villanelle.
Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme,
It serves its purpose passing well.
A doublc-clappered silver bell
That must be made to clink in chime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And if you wish to flute a spell,
Or ask a meeting 'neath the lime,
It serves its purpose passing well.
You must not ask of it the swell
Of organs grandiose and sublime-
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And, filled with sweetness, as a shell
Is filled with sound, and launched in time,
It serves its purpose passing well.
Still fair to see and good to smell
As in the quaintness of its prime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle,
It serves its purpose passing well.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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A Dainty Thing's The Villanelle
A DAINTY thing's the Villanelle,
Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme,
It serves its purpose passing well.
A double-clappered silver bell
That must be made to clink in chime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And if you wish to flute a spell,
Or ask a meeting 'neath the lime,
It serves its purpose passing well.
You must not ask of it the swell
Of organs grandiose and sublime--
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;
And, filled with sweetness, as a shell
Is filled with sound, and launched in time,
It serves its purpose passing well.
Still fair to see and good to smell
As in the quaintness of its prime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle,
It serves its purpose passing well.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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That' Once Found
After many years of declaring my identity.
With an opposition to be 'me' on occasion.
I set out on the pursuit of one thing.
And one thing only!
That...
'Was' my purpose.
That...
'Is' my purpose.
And 'that'...
Once found,
Can not be reversed.
I have never had the option,
Of a practiced rehearsal.
Or a flaw I had to welcome,
To live with and overcome.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I determined never to stop until I had come to the end and achieved my purpose.
quote by David Livingstone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scents And Dreams
The scent of you
Is all i'm left with
Still reminds me of you
If i could write an ode to you
It would not mean a thing
The essence of you
Is all my mind's with
Still crazy about you
If i could write a song for you
It would not mean a thing
The dream of you
Is all i sleep with
Still holds me to you
If i could knit a scarf for you
It would not bind a thing
The shadow of you
Is all i walk with
Still binds me with you
If i could build a boat for you
It would not sail a thing.
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God’s Purpose Never Changed
I will post
poems today
the purpose
is not
about you
or me
it is about
God
this purpose
has never
changed
persona
changes
within certain
styles
within
poems
I write
but
consistency
of purpose
never changed
it is a constant
as omnipresent
omnipotent
omnibenevolent
omniscient God
is constant.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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An Unintended Blessing
the critic serves a useful purpose
criticism can contain a surprising
amount of suddenly revealed truth
comments may have been venom versed
yet these are a great source of inspiration
in identifying areas to accurately improve
my philosophy, to use criticism, for a better,
more determined purpose, as focus point,
as an inspiration, to succeed, to attain excellence
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Write Erase Write Erase
this is what happens to this poem
when you have nothing to write
tonight....write, erase, write, erase
you are waiting
for an inspiration that does not come
you keep on waiting and then something comes
you write it, you think about it, you read it and you find nothing
worth the letter you assign to it
then you erase it and you are honest enough to admit that there is nothing
beautiful
not even a purpose, and then you write the word again, you ponder, there is
nothing worth its existence
there is nothing to grow in that word chosen
you erase it again, you write it and then there is this space of thinking,
what is it? you ask. what is it really?
it is this denial.
this negation of
what you are
that keeps you writing.
you stand by the window. Look out
the road. You see a dog, and it is howling again
to the moon
and to the wrong tree
it is barking.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ringmasters Word
I have a purpose...
Take your dill knife, stab me, go, strike my heart...(ha ha, ha ha...ha ha, ha ha )
I have a purpose...
Such things cant exist...
I have a purpose...
You will tell them of me and how one day I shall come for them...
I have a purpose...
Quietly, I will come over your bed,
I will lean over and gently bite your neck...
Ringmaster...
I have a purpose...
You will tell them of me and how one day I shall come for them
song performed by by Insane Clown Posse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voyage
We all are on a voyage,
a voyage to the stars.
None of us will get there
in big old fancy cars.
Some of us will get there
long before some others.
But it doesn't matter
for we're sisters and brothers.
This voyage must be taken
on a solo flight.
It will only happen
when you see the light,
the light that shines so brightly
right before your eyes.
The star that you will go to
will make you realize
that earth is just a temporary place
we come to visit.
It feels like home for a while
and maybe you will miss it.
But when you reach that star
that you're headed for
all your memories will return
like walking through a door.
The stars are out there twinkling
all through the night,
twinkling out a message
to all that see its light,
saying'I'm waiting for your voyage.
Come back home to me.
I'm the star you've reached for
throughout eternity.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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What Kind Of Poet Is He?
To express oneself with words is to be a poet.
Generally anyone who writes could be considered a poet.
It just to what magnitude, and degree are you?
Do you do it with passion?
Do you do it with a sense fashion? (I try to do it with both, but that is not always achieved. But I always do it with passion for I love to write.)
Does their always have to be a purpose behind it?
Or can you start writing and see where it leads.(A lot of the time that's me, but I do both with and without purpose.)
Do you do it all the time, does come in waves, or is it a one time thing.(For me it comes in waves.)
Is they a trigger, or is it spur of the moment? (Me in general it is triggered by an emotion. It doesn't matter where it comes from either.)
So you see it's not a question of are you a poet, but what kind of poet are you?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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I write for no other purpose than to add to the beauty that now belongs to me. I write a book for no other reason than to add three or four hundred acres to my magnificent estate.
quote by Jack London
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The United States as usual has a sizable deficit in the current account of its balance of payments, trade account and other current accounts, current account items.
quote by Robert C. Solomon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Write And Write And Write And Write
I WRITE AND WRITE AND WRITE AND WRITE
I write and write and write and write
I write and write and write and write
I write.
And all this writing and all these words and all I am
Forever unheard.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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