When asked, ""How do you write?"" I invariably answer, ""one word at a time.""
quote by Stephen King
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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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Silent
What is an art
The artist asked
And I could not
Answer and busy
Composing word.
What is a word
Asked the poet
And I could not
Answer and busy
In a picture.
And what is a picture
I could not get answer
Everybody is silent
Including the nature.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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An Assumption Of Money To Be Made
If they ever asked why I'm doing all this?
I will answer with a single remark.
To save a life.
If they ever asked what if you fail?
I will answer with a single remark.
I have but, I'm still here.
If they ever asked now that your accomplished what's next.
I will answer with a single remark.
What I do will not change, at least not for intentions of fame.
If they ever asked, if offered money to stop what your doing would you?
I will answer with a single remark.
No I will not be bought.
'So let me get this straight your completely honest? '
Yes I try to be.
'Well I still don't believe you.'
Well I never I asked you to or care if you do.
Your the one who wanted answers to those questions.
I gave you my answers, take it or leave it.
'I have to go because your not going to make me any money.'
That's fine because I've never said I would.
Your the one who assumed that.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Not The One I’m Looking For
If someone was to asked me,
why do you write?
I wouldn’t be able to answer them,
because quite frankly I just don’t know.
I just pick up a pen and paper,
and then the words come tumbling out,
and when I have finished,
I ask myself was that really me?
That is one of the reasons,
I never question what I do,
because there would never be an answer,
at least not the one I’m looking for.
poem by David Harris
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It Is Me
He sat in his own world
writing down the stories
that came to his mind.
He never watched time,
for him there
was no time.
He wrote stories of love,
of mystery and suspense.
He wrote of everything
that popped into his head.
He was not a lonely person
as his characters kept him company.
He wrote things
for every writing sphere,
but there was one thing
he could not write
which may come as a surprise
to everyone.
He could not write a letter
no matter how hard he tried.
His mind went completely blank
whenever he tried.
Yet he could write
just about everything else.
He could write songs,
he could write stories at will.
He could write poems
on everything,
but writing a letter
was something he could not do.
Now all who read this
might take it as a joke,
but it is very true
every word I have spoke,
and how would I know that.
The answer is simple it is me.
19 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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One for Ramana
The thunder asked
what is lightning?
The root asked
why is a flower?
The pupil asked
who is the teacher?
The space asked
where is everyone?
The circle asked
when is the end?
The stillness asked
whence word?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Not a Poem Poem
A Not a Poem Poem
I will not write a poem
For I am not a poet
I cannot makes things rhyme
I’ve tried for quite some time
So will I write a poem?
NO!
I can’t write poetry
I’ve tried to all my life
Once, I tried to write a poem
About a husband and his wife
It sounded really silly
So I crumbled it up into a ball
That’s why I decided
That I couldn’t write poetry at all
Am I gonna write a poem?
NO!
Well, I’ll try to write a poem
But it will be really bad
It will be absolutely lousy
It will be completely horrible
It won’t be up to snuff
People will say, “Who wrote this stuff? ”
Will my poem be good?
NO!
Can I write a poem?
NO!
Will I write a poem?
NO!
Well, what do you know! ? !
I wrote a poem!
And it’s a pretty good poem, too!
I guess I can write poetry if I try
The next time I’m asked to write a poem,
Will I say no?
NO!
Well
'Well' is the most used word in your vocabulary.
'Well' is the word you use to give you the last one.
'Well' is the word when you're losing an argument.
'Well' is the word used when talking is done
'Well' gives you time for further consideration.
'Well' gives you chance to later state your case.
'Well' to you is an answer not a question.
'Well' is the word to use in time of haste.
'Well' is the word you use to cause exasperation.
'Well' is used because you can't think on your feet.
'Well' alleviates embarrassment in your slow repartee.
'Well' is the way to halt an argument's defeat.
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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Invariably
In the morning
I invariably...
Say to you,
How much
I love you :)
In the evening,
I invariably...
Forget about you
And say to him:
It's only you :)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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I Told Myself
I told myself
You do love me
Is it really true?
She asked me
I told myself
You care for me
Are you really sure?
She asked me
I told myself
You do miss me
As often as you?
She asked me
I told myself
You need me too
Are you guessing?
She asked me
I told myself
You never tell me
Why on Earth?
She asked me
I told myself
You hide a lot…
Is that friendship?
She asked me
I told myself
You think too much
Does he not feel?
She asked me
Tell me, my love
What shall I say?
To all those queries
That she asked me...
How should I answer?
What should I ponder?
Tell me the truth
For she still asks me...
You For Me
And Me For You
Is it the Future?
One last Question
She did ask me.
I don’t have the answers
Yet she keeps asking me…
May be, she knows,
One day, one moment
You’ll let her know
How you feel for me...
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Gertrude Stein chews the fat
We asked ourself a question
since no-one else asked it
it was are poems about the poet
or about poetry
or about neither
or about both
and now we had asked this question
we had to answer it and we said
if poetry raises all these questions
the answer must be simply
yes
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Self Explanatory
Once a learned young man named John
asked a serious question, an earnest question,
with no attempt at humour, or to string me along.
And the questions were?
‘How do you write like that?
How do you find the titles? ’
The reply. ‘I think like that.’
His reply. ‘No one thinks like that.’
An answer beyond his belief system.
An answer he could not reconcile accept.
Easier to believe own belief systems
than search mind expand limited horizons.
Really was this reply
in truth so hard to accept?
‘If I do not think like that
how could I write like that? ’
Self Explanatory!
No Further Comment Required!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Poem Is Not The Answer To Everything
A POEM IS NOT THE ANSWER TO EVERYTHING
A poem is not the answer to everything-
Perhaps it is not the answer to anything
Though I wouldn't take it that far-
There have been times
When a poem was the answer-
Many times
A poem written by someone else
A poem I tried to write by myself-
Poems can be an answer
Perhaps not for most things
Perhaps not for all the major things
But for moods and pains and feeling
And desire for Beauty
Poems can be answers at time-
A poem is not really the answer to my problem of the moment now
But it is an answer of a kind anyway
Thank God for poems and for this poem also.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Why Do I Write
I write from my sadness
I write from the madness
I write because I have something to say
I write to pass the day
I write only from the heart
I write for sometimes I am not that smart
Whatever is in head just comes out on paper (in this case a word document) , and I go with the flow
Write to let my mind go
I follow my hand to where ever it takes me
I write all the things that I can see
I write when I am happy, but not as much
I write from my heart that you can touch
I write because I’d go insane
I am driven to write quell my pain
At times I feel alone so I write what I am feeling
I write for it is self-healing
Confident not so I write it all away
I write and write to pass the day
I write to comfort my soul that cries out in the night
I write for love is always out of sight
I write so I don't have to cry any more
I write for I have no one to adore
I write so someone somewhere will hear my plea
I write for someone is out there for me
I am lost and I the clown
I write to turn my frown upside down
I write to embrace the sadness I hide inside
I write with my heart opened wide
I write to silence the ghost
I write for I’ve been let down by the one I loved the most
I write through the stormy weather
I write for I am light as a feather
I am not a writer nor am I a poet
I write for the grief I do know it
I will write until I draw my last breath
I write because I'll die a lonely death
I have to write for strangers delight
I write because I have to write
I write for my own happiness
I write to relieve my stress
I write because I have no other choice
I write as if I was writing a letter
I write because I can’t do any better
I write because I am afraid not to
I write for this is what I do
I write for I give a damn
I write just because I am
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Why Do I Write Poetry?
Why do I write Poetry?
The answer is not plain to see,
As a Legal Cashier I earn my Living,
For me and my family.
Why do I write Poetry?
Thoughts come to me in rhyme and verse,
They have to be worked on continually
To make those lines seem terse.
Why do I write Poetry?
One day HE’ll answer me,
Hopefully while I’m on this Earth,
Before I reach Eternity.
Why do I write Poetry?
Why must my lines scan and rhyme?
Not only on this occasion,
But forever, and all the time.
Why do I write Poetry?
Why put them on your website?
To leave my Thoughts and Visions of Life,
To you all and posterity.
© Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 9 April 2005
poem by Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet
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Can't Escape the Word
Taking a day away from the pen
makes me feel delinquent again
as if to say why do this thing
when to write will most assuredly bring
peace and comfort as you write,
just as the day is comforted by night.
Tried to change and escape the word
but the word followed and I heard
' Pick me up.
I miss your hand.
Don't leave me whilst you play.
There'll be plenty of time for that my dear
on some faraway day '
So tonight you glide easily and I see
word after word appear before me.
Are you comforted now dearest friend?
Will there never be a time to finally end
this union between my thoughts and you?
Will you follow me when my life is through?
Can't escape, so why do I try?
Cannot let the pen ever run dry.
Some day I know the pen will rest
and I will seek another quest.
But I'll always remember the pen.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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When you write.
When you write
You hunt for words
Capture them and put them where you
Want them to
Symbolize
An idea, words are symbols too
And these words can be more than that,
Like the word love
Symbolizing how you feel
About her
It can be more than that
Love as a word can go beyond
Its symbolism of
Affection
It can be demanding
About other words
Time
Money
Effort
And if you are true enough it
Can mean vulnerability
And nudity
One by one you remove every
Cover of yourself
From shirt to pants to brief
And there is more to that still
What you write
Any word for that matter
May demand that you remove
Your mind
Your eyes
Your soul even
So that in the end what you write demands
That you become completely
Nothing. Try it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Strange Desire
I wish I could write a word,
Out of multitude of thousands,
That might raise my mettle,
And be recognized at the first glance.
The naughty hope whispering
Tells me time and again,
“Write, write and write more, ”
Some one should tell me how long,
I should write for writing,
Made me half dead.
The disjoint, disordered, paralyzed,
The dumb, deaf and mute words,
Give no voice, no sound and no sense,
They neither unlock their lips,
Nor convey my inner self.
Oh! God;
Give me a word alive and spirited,
That should share my joys, my worries,
Laugh, joke, play and ply with me,
Open the door of mysteries,
And in my absence respond at,
My name is addressed by someone else.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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What I Cannot Write
what i cannot write
is the answer of the riddle of the sphinx
to me.
i know myself.
hence, i know the answer very well.
i cannot even say it.
thinking about it
shakes my being
like an earthquake
to the foundations
of my house.
i cannot say or write it.
because if i will
everything in me crashes
like September 11.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If you write, one of the questions you're always trying to answer is, Where do you get your ideas? And, if you write, you know how pointless a question this is and how difficult it is to answer.
quote by Lynn Abbey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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