Demons Of The Forsaken
Sometimes it is better to put it on paper then keep it your head.
An expression not known is the one not voiced.
Regardless of emotions involved.
Sometimes they are lessons in life that only in this way can be solved.
Writing the reflection of an image so it can't dissolve.
What I write I will soon forget unless I reread it.
Demons of the forsaken.
Tell me now can you beat them?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Related quotes
Compulsion
Writers must write: They are possessed
by inner demons who insist
That they must write and they know best.
We lack the power to resist.
We have no choice we are compelled
all of our secret thoughts to share.
However random or misspelled
our inner demons do not care
Put pen to paper and compose
is their command and we obey
by writing poetry or prose.
They know we dare not disobey.
If we don’t write we know no rest.
As any writer will attest.
(11-Nov-07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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And So I'm Writing...
I'm hard-pressed for time,
yet I do have the heart
And so I'm writing
Know not what to pen down,
have a paper to write on
And so I'm writing
May be I'll write about 'you and me'
Or may be of 'us and them'
Feel like playing with words
And so I'm writing
May be that starving beggar's hungry looks
Or that homeless Child's beckoning eyes
Are making me scribble these lines to you
And so I'm writing
May be you'll find my words vague
Or you might decipher a meaning
Intend to leave you in the oblivion
And so I'm writing
Whatever might be the impression I create
Wish to see its reflection on your soul
And leave an imprint on your mind
And so I'm writing
May be you and I've become immune
To the pathos of mankind
Or may be there's still
A dropp of humanity flowing deep within us
Wish to arouse 'The Human Being' in you
And so I'm writing...
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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My Well-wisher
I am that hope you see
I am that hearty laugh that we share
I am that happiness and glee
that can diffuse our despair.
Reflection-
this reflection
talks to me and you
it says ‘Yes I am you
and you are I,
we two are the apple of His eye.
I talk back ‘Elegant is your persona’-
in reply it says ‘Elegant is our persona,
together, we are perfect
in isolation we are forsaken
together, a larger than life image we project
in isolation we are shaken.’
It urges me to mimic its essence;
to put on the expression of its face-
it is my well-wisher and my quintessence
which alleviates scars of disgrace.
It urges me to make a difference
leading to perceptual clarity,
it adds that multifaceted dimension
and then I and my reflection are in parity.
©® Chitra Lele
I Write A Little
(Randy Owen/Don Cook/Ronnie Rogers)
Military mail call....
I lay out some paper, I take out my pen
Turn on my table-lamp and here I go again
It's time to write a letter, I'm in the mood tonight
Gotta find a way to tell you how I feel inside
So I write a little and I cry a little
It's so hard to find a way to say goodbye a little
But somewhere in the middle, my emotions interfere
So I write a little and cry a little tear
And I die a little, wishing you were here
God I miss you, can't be with you
I would kiss you oh so good
'Cause you're my only cure for lonely
I'd call if I could
So I write a little and I cry a little
It's so hard to find a way to say goodbye a little
But somewhere in the middle, my emotions interfere
So I write a little and cry a little tear
And I die a little, wishing you were here
Oh, I die a little wishing you were here
Wishing you were here
I'm writing and wishing you were here
I write a little and cry a little tear
I'm writing and wishing you were here
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vellum
I write my name down on paper
paper that has a unrealistic desire
to be vellum
I read what I have written
for a sense of authenticity
more authentic than my image
reflected in a mirror stained with mildew
and toothpaste
The words on this paper
anyone can read
bums, whores, addicts,
homosexuals
intellectuals
and the broken old men
whose hope died
in the past
I write
but I don't speak
what I write
details what I see
The things I see
O, the things I see
could invoke suicidal tendencies
in a child who still believes
in Christmas carols
and hunting Moby Dick
whom rules the seas
How tragic it is
to let fleeting imagination
slowly die among the magic spelling
of the words we once spoke
on Christmas Eve
And now I sit
with the adulterated gift
of alcohol
and nicotine
writing down words on paper
whom wish to be vellum
but realistically
could never be
poem by Justin Tallman Gonzalez
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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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Write
Write, keep writing lot
Write, write before you forget
Write, make it as reminder
Write, write before words disappear
Write, for you to contemplate
Write, write before your mind changed
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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What Will I Do Today And What Will I Do Tomorrow?
What will I do today and what will I do tomorrow
And what will I do for the rest of my life?
Write and write and write
Until I can no longer write –
And even if this writing is never known?
And even if this writing is wholly lost?
And even if this writing is not really worth very much?
And even if it is known only a little?
And even if others are highly critical of it?
And even if it seems vanity of vanity and only vanity?
Write and write and write
To the end of my life.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Paper And Pen
Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
Can’t think of anything to say today
Can’t think of anything to do
Can’t think of anything to play today
Minds gone blank
Leaving me here, just sitting here
Listening to my hair grow
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
And I look towards you
For an inspiration or a word or two
I try but I find
Every road only leads me back to these lines
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
Piano, guitar
I try but don't get very far
Paper and pen
Piano, guitar
Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
Copyright Colin Coplin 1985 / 2010
poem by Colin Coplin
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R.I.P. My Depression
I have to do some soul searching
Eyes swollen and my heart is hurting
I’ve lost my way and everything is all blurry
I’m stuck right here because I love you only
I wished I was immune to pain
This love feeling forever driving me insane
So many questions and little or no answer
This is the fabrics of my life damn it; I have to make an alter
Yes I do love you…a bit too much
Then you upset me and I want to kill or strangle your guts
Today I realized what I was doing wrong
I confided in you when I was feeling out and down
Though I love you dearly
I mean no disrespect but me telling you my problems shouldn’t be
Oh my oh my I forgot about writing my emotions on a piece of paper
Writing until I can’t write no more...Read it to myself and burn it after
I hope it’s not too late… I hope I haven’t scarred you for life with my crying
Pen and paper I have to go back to basics
I’m an old dog (not really) I’ve forgot my old tricks
So I’ll sit here and see everything
Silence shall be my best friend for I shall say nothing
poem by Anita Khelawan
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Mirror Image
I get up this morning, forget about all my plans
Think about my vacations with my latest man
Everything I did, what I shouldve done
Why I didnt stay why I didnt run
Only I hold the key to unlock the door
I might make mistakes I made them before
Think I hear about my life as a book
Think I rather forget but they forced me to look
Chorus:
(mirror image, mirror image)
If it isnt in black and white
(it never happened)
(mirror image) reflection of me
Do you see what they want you to see?
Looking at my life through mirror image
Mirror image
Must I confess everything that Ive done?
Cant a girl go out and have herself some fun?
I dont wanna be judge I dont want the blame
Living for the day is how I play the game
There always a dream theres always a stage
Somebodys looking now its on the front page
Through my rear view mirror I can see where Ive been
I forget the beginning and I cant see the end
Chorus
Only I hold the key to unlock the door
I might make mistakes I made them before
Think I hear about my life as a book
Think I rather forget but they forced me to look
Chorus x 2 (ad libs)
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writing The Words
I’m writing this at your funeral.
As I watch all the people in tears.
I wish I could join them,
But I know I have to be strong.
I’m writing this on my hand,
No paper to get it down on.
I want to remember your funeral,
So I’m writing this to honour you.
I’m writing the thoughts that pop into my head,
Making sure they are only the best.
I have to remember,
Because I couldn’t live with myself if I ever forgot.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
As people dropp flowers onto your coffin.
I stand up to dropp my own,
Blue, unlike the others, because I know it’s your favourite.
I’m writing this through the ceremony,
Because if I listen to the words I’ll cry.
And I know I can’t, for you,
I have to keep it together.
I’m writing the words I want to say,
To make people remember how much love you gave.
Because I want them to know,
How much of it you gave to me.
So, I’m writing this at your funeral,
To stop myself from shedding a tear.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
So that I never ever forget you.
poem by Rachel Brewer
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Demons 2
we like to sin
we like to think that when we sin
it is not us that sin
but some demons pushing us to make the sins
even in sinning we need some escape goats
the demons made me do it
damn these demons in my head!
i am innocent
the demons pushed me to do the sins i do
they are so many of them
these damn demons in my head
and i am just alone
(my sweet conscience
implanted by God)
these damn demons
they push me on the dead-end edge where i can do nothing but sin
nice, human logic,
less responsibility for sinning because someone did the sinning for you
not me,
when i sin, i sin alone, i sin myself, and there is no escape goat to blame
there are no horns, no goats, no snakes handing me the apple to bite,
no adam no eve no cains or abels no genetics involved in here
i have sinned through my own fault.in my own fault,
in what i think, in what i do, in what i have failed to do,
in what i have failed to think,
and i ask all the angels and saints to help me get away from
my own faults, my own and nothing but my own
this sinning
my own responsibility and i ask my God to forgive me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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the poem that N A M E D itself
it crawls out
slithering snake
onto the paper
spread like the Bible
out before me
and I think:
what shall I write?
and it seeps out
bleeding black
onto the paper
words that form
from the hollow
places inside me
that sometimes
I can’t find
and it calls forth
emotions that
deserve the words
I can’t give
—except
I give them
my pen is sharp
and my hand aches
the words are
pouring out onto
the face
of blank paper
and I am staring
outside myself
not writing the
words but merely
a vessel for them
to contain themselves
when it is done
and the hollow places
are silent I ask:
what shall I
call it?
but it is already
N A M E D
poem by Elizabeth Rebel
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Ah, The Unexpressed!
what use of
veiled metaphors,
can human experience
can human emotions
ever come close
to any known expression?
when an unbridgeable gap
forever persists between
the cup and the lip
tell me, how much is still left
unsaid in word or image
ah, how unique
is the expression
imprisoned behind
the expressed...!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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I’d Like to Write a Sonnet Just in Fun
I wrote to write my thoughts in clarity
I wrote to write ideas and views that storm
You see I wrote to write tranquility
But now I want to write in sonnet form
I like emotions locked inside fourteen
Inside with beats I’ve never known before
The sonnet life has rule as code adds mien
To quench my thirst for laws that I explore
I lay the code in mind to bring feelings
With beats I join to capture its allure
In words I write to form with beats freeing
To play amongst the codes that I procure
I will reread and learn as I arrange
With feelings that will flow as beats will change
poem by Paul Moosberg
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Poems I've Considered Writing..All Thanks to You..
It seems I'm writing more
Than I have for quite some time..
It's not always good writing
Sometimes It's just a matter of getting out my emotions on paper
Though they say you shouldn't put everything on paper
But,
That wouldn't make me much of a writer then, would it..
I don't do it on purpose..
To be honest,
I can't really help it..
And,
When I contemplate some of the poems I've thought of writing
Since our acquaintance
Well,
Some of the following titles spring to mind..
'This should be interesting'
'I wonder how I'll ever get on in this place'
'I hope I make a good enough impression'
But, then, that's not specific to you, is it..
I'm always worried about making a good impression, doing a good job, working on bettering me...worried about what others may or may not think
I'm not in competition with anyone but myself and sometimes I think that's
Tougher than competing with someone else..
'Ummmm...I don't know what to think'
'Someone thinks highly of themselves'
This would have been about you by the way..
I guess first impressions aren't always accurate
'I think I can trust you'
'Maybe I've made a friend'
'Why did that feel like a date'
'What's wrong with me'
'Something to look forward to'
'Saying Goodbye'
'Hello Again'
'I like having you as my friend'
'Someone to talk to'
'That's...Not..What..! ! ! '
Because sometimes I feel like I can read your mind..
And,
It's not always on it's best behavior, is it..
I hope that doesn't change... it makes me smile.
'I Have to Admit, You're Kind-a Sweet'
'Nooooo! ! ! '
This would have been a funny poem..As would,
'Do you mean what you say, when you say what you say'
But, then.. I think..
'Maybe it's all in my head'
Let's face it.. I am known to think too much, too often, all the time...
It's a minor glitch with my mind...
Then, there was the minor incident where..
'Being Forced to Face That I'm Feeling....Something'
But, that's just hard for me to do..so,
'Bury it, Pretend it Doesn't Exist'
Or
'We Aren't Going to Talk About the Elephant in the Room'
Were poems that were quite appropriate to write..
I didn't write them..
Well, not quite that way..
Some others would have been,
'Uneasy with My Feelings'
'I Wonder What You Really Think of Me'
'Too Bad I Can't Read Minds'
'I'd love to know what your first impression of me was...does it still hold true'
I don't know if you have read my work..
I sometimes think it's you..
But, I figure there's no way for me to know
Unless you give me a clue..
And, maybe you have
But, subtleties are lost on me
Especially when it comes to you..
So I write..
Or contemplate writing poems..
With funny titles
Titles that don't always mean what they say
Or say how I feel
Or are specific to you...
Because writers write..
It's what they do
But, sometimes
My Poems
Might be
Just for you...
poem by Rabia Minhas
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Poet 2 Poet
We all have different writing styles, and we
May not all have grace and poise.
But when we do write, it’s all to make some noise.
We want to be recognized by the co-poets
All fair and true.
For writing our poetry is what we all like to do.
So I welcome all my co-poets who take this beautiful ride
And all their dreams and visions, they do find.
We do not only write what comes into our minds
But we write from the heart
And this is where poetry gets its start.
So continue to write all that you see and feel
Because these are human emotions.
That from us, no one can steal.
WELCOME ABOARD THIS TRAIN OF POETRY.
poem by Louis Rams
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It's Not Perfect.
Sometimes the artist makes a fools mistake.
A contract that demands plenty for so little.
Me personally I do this for free currently because I have a job that pays the bills.
It is a hobby to me, always has been.
I work with my back, shoulders, arms, as well as my hands.
Time limited sticks me behind so many others.
Yet I don't care, for I do not desire fame and fortunes.
But instead actually enjoy what I do.
I feel as if I making glue that holds a painting together.
The creation of something all in ones mind.
A satisfying feeling envelopes me as I write them one at a time.
A victory upon this paper, this is something I indeed savor.
I do reread and reread trying to perfect each and everyone of them.
But for the sake of being correct.
Even though I know each one has its own flaws.
That is what make it really unique.
Even when the favored critique tells I'm wrong.
Sometimes thats the way I still want it.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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A Revolution Poetry Is....!
Are you writing words of rhythm according to thoughts?
Or are you coining words of thoughts according to rhythm?
Or are you writing poetry both working at the same time?
Asking so, if they ask me how to write poetry, what shall I say?
Poetry writing is natural, spontaneous expression from heart!
How can this be taught to anyone to write poetry ever at all?
Poetry is a spontaneous flow of words direct from heart ever!
I wonder many a time how am I writing poetry at all ever!
But this is happening to my great surprise since longtime!
Due to engagements ever poetry only I am able to write
Though my aim in the beginning was writing stories.....,
Novels, short stories and nonfiction articles of criticism!
Poetry books too I have completed writing so since long
But what a pity there is no reception for poetry books...!
poem by Ramesh T A
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