I think there's one thing which distinguishes our art - we don't consider. We don't think. We write a little verse because it comes to us.
quote by Howard Nemerov
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Given that we glimpse what distinguishes man from the beast, is there anything that distinguishes woman from man?
quote by W.L. George
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Free verse
I want to write always in free verse
In free verse there is no pressure.
I do not want to keep any goal
I really do not want any roll
I also do not want to play any role.
I want to see this earth free from hunger
Free from poverty and I do not want to
keep anybody within an artificial boundary.
I want to write always in free verse
I want to move freely from place to place
To see people in various glaze.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Intellect distinguishes between the possible and the impossible reason distinguishes between the sensible and the senseless. Even the possible can be senseless.
Intellect distinguishes between the possible and the impossible; reason distinguishes between the sensible and the senseless. Even the possible can be senseless.
Why I Write?
My child you ask me why
And so I give a sure reply
The reason why I write you ask?
I do so to unveil a mask -
To state a claim my dear
And dry these noble tears at last
The reason why I write
Is to be free -
As that young lad's kite
To flee from charmless grips
And stray from harm's lustful flight
You ask me why I write today?
I do so that you go away!
To a place, within my space
That way I'll have a worthy say
I write my dear to tell a tale
Of places that I once had sailed
The promises that were never had
The eluded dreams that made me sad
The reason why I write a verse
Is to soothe this soul I thought was cursed
To trod with care through lonely roads
And pray my troubles be reversed
The reason why I write to you
Is so you ‘ll see my point of view
That in all things, there is a verse
A spring that takes away all thirst
Copyright © 2012
poem by Godfrey Morris
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Write verse, not poetry. The public wants verse. If you have a talent for poetry, then don't by any means mother it, but try your hand at verse.
quote by Robert W. Service
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Heart Whispered
The heart whispered,
After the intensity
Of the pangs would reduce,
I would write the verse;
After the bewildering horror
Of death would decrease,
I would write the verse:
The intensity
Of the pangs does not reduce;
The bewildering horror
Of death does not decrease.
The wailing, the bawling,
The crying, the mourning,
Do not let heartily sleep,
Do not let heartily weep.
Then after
Cheerful sleep and weeping deep,
I shall write the verse.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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If We In Verse Slay Ourselves
with 'something to say'
which needs to be said
it is not necessary for us
to 'live long enough to write
the poem we know we can write'
because with something to say
if we seek universal truth
if we dedicated write enough
at least a few poems will
eventually be 'the poem
we know we can write'
if we in verse slay ourselves
poem by Terence George Craddock
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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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A matter of opinion.
Some people say I am perverse
because I choose to write in verse.
The kind of stories I compose.
They think I ought to write in prose.
They have the right to I suppose.
But I won’t do as they propose.
I much prefer to write in verse
Because I think there’s nothing worse
Than badly written boring prose.
That is the reason why I chose.
To concentrate on rhyming verse.
I see no reason to reverse.
My original decision
to conform to your opinion.
I do not choose to write in prose
I am convinced that I would lose.
My rhyming capability
reducing my ability.
To write my words spontaneously.
I don’t expect you to agree.
Although I am compelled to write.
You’re free to exercise your right
To read or not as you choose to.
Though I confess I hope you do.
I know I can’t please everyone.
That is something that can’t be done
By any writer though they try
A truth no writer can deny.
Your comments are of interest
they spur me on to do my best.
We can agree to disagree
on which is best quite easily.
A poet must choose poetry.
But other writers are quite free.
to share their thoughts written in prose
Because they choose to I suppose.
If you should doubt my competence.
I will not choose to take offence.
You are entitled to your view
Please remember I am too
Sunday,02 May 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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
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Write On
(clarke / sylvester / hicks)
Write on, even though theres no one listening to your songs
Write on
Shine on, get it together, let your light break through
Shine on, baby, shine on
Write on, sitting on your own, waiting for the phone
Come on, come on, come on
Write on, for your fame and fortune will follow you, coming on strong
Coming on strong
Dont feel bad cos the radio aint playing em
It wont be long til youre going out and slayin em
Shine on
Youre not the first, you wont be the last
To feel the frustration of a musical fast
Write on, baby, write on
Sing your rock and roll with a touch of soul
Ballads with feeling, send your audience reeling
Rock on, rock on
Find a man with a van, a back up band
Wholl give you a hand on your one night stand
Rock on, baby, rock on
Give em your licks, getting off on their kicks
Swayin in motion to a rhythmic potion
Rock on, baby, rock on
Music freaks and all those hustlers
Hangers on, trying to make a con
Rock on
Dont sign on the line til you know its all fine
Its your life baby, you got to give it time
Rock on, baby, rock on
Verse 1
Verse 3
Verse 4
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Silence Of My Creativity
For you I write no more song
Nor will I write a verse.
The silence of my creativity
seems to be getting worse.
I say quietly to myself
it will come back once more.
I must be patient with my heart
and revert to how I was before.
And how was that? I can't recall.
Too many days have passed.
Will I write again a poem or song
or will I have written my last?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Who Would Be A Poet?
Tell me, who would be a poet?
Just think what it entails...
And we know we'll sometimes blow it,
For every writer fails...
To think, that when we're feeling down,
We write to raise a smile,
But then we often have to frown,
Restricted by some style...
Eight syllables, then six below,
That's how I try to write...
Eight syllables to match the flow
Then six to keep it light...
So pretty soon verse three's arranged
Before the poem's done
And then verse four gets somewhat changed,
But don't tell anyone!
Some names get swapped and switched around,
Some placenames, too, replaced...
And suddenly an ending's found
And that has to be phrased...
My, my, it's like a Mystory Tour!
All jumbled jolly stuff,
With heartfelt tales of sweet amour
And that weird thing called lurv...
For thirty years, I've typed and typed
And typed and typed again...
I've either griped or else I've hyped
And emptied every pen...
The Writing Bug's still bugging me...
And yet how much I owe it!
Except no sweetheart's hugging me!
So who would be a poet! ?
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
poem by Denis Martindale
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It's nice to be concise
I think it’s nice
To be concise
In everything you write
To be slightly terse
With all your verse
Is usually to write right
One should take their time
When composing rhyme
And try to keep it light
Maintain their meter
Try to make it neater
And never ever lose sight
Try not to doze
Whilst deep in prose
don’t write too late at night
Try not to swell your sonnet
Nor Try to dwell upon it
Because it could end up quite a fright
You don’t want to try to
End up with a haiku
Lord knows that wouldn’t be right…but
I just think it’s nice
To be concise…
In everything you write
poem by David Whalen
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A Long Dress
That is the current that makes machinery,
that makes it crackle,
what is the current that presents a long line and a necessary waist.
What is this current.
What is the wind, what is it.
Where is the serene length,
it is there and a dark place is not a dark place,
only a white and red are black, only a yellow and green are blue,
a pink is scarlet, a bow is every color. A line distinguishes it.
A line just distinguishes it.
poem by Gertrude Stein
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What I do say is that I can write verse, and that the writing of verse in strict form is the best possible training for writing good prose.
quote by Philip Pullman
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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What I want to write
What I want to write
I could not write.
I could not write
Tiger tiger cat cat
And the difference they behaved.
I could not write
The sky and its fall
On our forehead.
What I want to write
I could not write.
I write how I loved
How flower blosom
How fruit ripe
How stream flow.
I could not know
How I write
And I write
What I want to write
I could not write.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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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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