A Confession
Those sanctified structures of verse,
plot and rhyme-why do I find them
no help to me now?
I want to produce something
imagined not recollected.
My inner voice becomes tongue-tied;
it trembles searching for the words
to guide me to inspiration.
So at times everything I write
with the threadbare lack of genius
seems wearily; worn-out; hackneyed
often painfully paralyzed.
A mésalliance I admit
Still I strive to caress the light.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Epilogue
Those blessèd structures, plot and rhyme--
why are they no help to me now
I want to make
something imagined, not recalled?
I hear the noise of my own voice:
The painter's vision is not a lens,
it trembles to caress the light.
But sometimes everything I write
with the threadbare art of my eye
seems a snapshot,
lurid, rapid, garish, grouped,
heightened from life,
yet paralyzed by fact.
All's misalliance.
Yet why not say what happened?
Pray for the grace of accuracy
Vermeer gave to the sun's illumination
stealing like the tide across a map
to his girl solid with yearning.
We are poor passing facts,
warned by that to give
each figure in the photograph
his living name.
poem by Robert Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In Search Of Inspiration
searching the world for inspiration
searching books, music and nature too
a lot of effort gone into it, a lot of concentration
inspiration i think is hard to find
in the songs of birds, in the whistle of the wind
i search for inspiration, even a tiny little bit
when a baby laughed or when a woman grinned
i searched folr inspiration, guess it's harder to find
in the words of shelly, keats and shakespeare too
inspiration i searched and searched, no use
in 'gone with the wind'and 'the sound of music'
movies i searched for a bit of inspiration
'
without inspiration, what do i write
i wanna fill the pages with the poem that's right
i need to write a poem, i need inspiration
i wanna write a poem. wait a minute! ! , i just did! ! !
note: i never write poems for the sake of writing.......it comes from the heart......in reality...i dont need to search for inspiration much.....it comes when it needs to... :)
Copyright © 2009 by Sneha Murali
poem by Sneha Murali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Poet To Be
A poet I claim not to be,
For words are never there.
In all the years I've tried to write,
I have no words to share.
I sit and think but nothing comes,
No inspiration here.
I want to write of anything,
But still no words I fear.
I read the works of other poets,
I wish I were like them.
How do they write such beautiful lines,
A poet, I'm not him.
I try to write from the heart,
From deep within my soul.
I try to write of the love I have,
But cannot reach my goal.
But why I ask, why can't I write,
Of love so pure and true.
Why can't I write about her eyes,
A mix of green and blue.
I want to write about her smile,
It brightens up my day.
I try to think of anything,
But words I cannot say.
I wish I knew how to write,
A poem with such bliss.
I wish I knew how to describe,
Her soft but tender kiss.
I cannot even begin to write,
How she holds me tight.
How her arms around me,
Makes everything just right.
A poet does not have to think,
The words flow right out.
When I sit and try to write,
I want to scream and shout.
I mean come on, how hard can it be,
To write about her hair.
Such long beautiful natural blonde,
That flows in the air.
I try to write about her laugh,
The words will not fly.
Time passes and finally,
I say it's soft and high.
It's been an hour and a half,
I'm here on verse twelve.
I had to go to Rhymezone,
To find out the rhyme is shelve.
A poet does not do that,
Go online to find a rhyme.
A poet has it in his head,
And can write at any time.
But a poet I am not,
For I cannot write of love.
How the girl I am with,
Is an angel from up above.
How I love her with all my heart,
And want to spend my life with her.
How her love for me is more,
Than I can ever be for sure.
As I draw near the end,
My mind is not so numb.
I realize I've just written of love,
A poet I have become.
poem by Adam McKim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Inspiration..
Inspiration comes and goes.
I write it down or I’ll forget while searching for a pen.
Inspiration comes and goes.
I get is from dreams or experiences.
Inspiration comes and goes.
But tell me, what inspires you.
I’m inspired by beauty, love and lust.
Giving me words and thought I dare to trust.
It’s inspiration that separates me from the rest.
‘Cause when inspiration comes words fall into place.
And things are beginning to make sense.
Sometimes I’m inspired by sorrow.
When I’m waiting in my bed for tomorrow.
And words start to become sentences.
I will start to write just to understand.
And to make me feel better so I can go to bed again.
Sometimes I write because of a pain that runs so deep.
I write cryptic lyrics about the secrets I keep.
I express them in other words so no one will understand.
But they feel not knowing what I’m trying to tell.
It’s a just way to clear my conscience.
Sometimes I write how the world could be.
Or I write about the girl of my fantasy.
Then I’m inspired by a fragment of my imagination.
And now I told a few ways where I get my inspiration.
So now tell me what inspires you.
poem by Rick Adriolo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tongue Tied
Before I spoke
Your voice was moving here
The water safe
This way
That way
I feel his thoughts
Your choice
It's all there
There comes a time to find
Piece of mind
Take some time to let go
'Cos I wanna know
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
So tongue tied
But I want you by my side
And I wait
And I wait here for a while
Just to see your smile
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
The day I mean
A sign a world too
To get you back in mine
For a time
The cloudy phase
But I do wanan hear from you
The only one to feel
In a here
You have a mind of your own
And I wanan know
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
So tongue tied
But I want you by my side
And I wait
And I wait here for a while
Just to see your smile
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
We appear there is fear
Be right here
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
So tongue tied
But I want you by my side
And I wait
And I wait here for a while
Just to see your smile
So tongue tied
I can tell what's on your mind
song performed by by Holly Valance
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Once Again I Write...
This pen, this paper is once again my savior.
I write to save my sanity.
I write to ease my heart.
I write to cleanse my soul.
I write to feel alive.
I write to keep my mind strong and my thoughts clear.
I write my words of sorrow, despair, pain, and love, as well as words of wisdom.
I write so that one day someone will truly know me.
This paper, this pen is once again my inspiration.
It is the inspiration to what I see.
It is the inspiration to what I hear.
It is the inspiration to what I feel.
It is the inspiration to the art I create.
It is the inspiration to what I draw.
It is the inspiration to the love for my daughter.
It is the inspiration to the love for my husband.
This pen, this paper is once again my savior.
Once again I write to say thank you my timeless friends.
Thank you for saving me time and time again.
poem by Sara Jo Andrews
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An Ode To Inspiration
Up above, Tchaikovsky's fluting notes are dancing,
And the empty paper waits for the first verse to be born.
While the screaming wind beats against the old window,
My thoughts are endlessly straying,
Looking for lost inspiration,
And they stray the ravines of my mind,
Like lost children searching for their dear mother,
Lost inspiration.
The heart is painfully echoing in a mute chest,
And the paper still waits for its dear tennants,
And it is as if the angry wind knows it too,
The wind that shakes the old window blinds
That painfully creak
Like the bones of an old dying man.
If I could,
I would sprinkle all roads with stars,
I would gild each stone with the rays of the sun,
If only inspiration could find its way to my home.
But how could I possibly greet it royally
In a room full of moisture, draft and smoke,
And the deafening echo of poverty,
As inspiration is royal by birth, after all.
There is grave silence down there,
And a magic harmony up there,
It is Tchaikovsky dispersing his magic notes
Down into my dark home,
As if he wants to provide a royal welcome for inspiration.
That blue shadow is watching me now,
As if saying:
'Inspiration is of royal birth,
You will find it in the dark, below a stone,
In the company of the darkest shadow,
At the very heart of loneliness;
You don't have to take the stars down from the sky for it,
Or bait it with gold
So it would find its home.
Giving in to your heart is enough, brother,
And inspiration shall find its home! ...'
poem by Walter William Safar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Am Searching For A Verse
I am searching for a verse
that is somewhat different and unhindered,
of which the words are pure and without blemish,
that gives more light than a flaring candle
something monumental into which I do not press any words
but where it flows freely from its own accord,
where no political correctness hinders any ideas,
where I do not deviate when a great poet grind his teeth to me
a verse that pierces the heart of a reader,
that caries something of my humanity
and nowhere I can find it but to focus my eyes on You
and this searching is a funny thing,
a searching for a type of unique song
with an outer-worldly insight.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song Of A Rhyming Man
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
This modern verse too much for me it's way above my head
Though modern poets are now the rage and Rhyme is with the dead.
I love the sound of rhyming words, I love the verse that rhyme
To blank or free or non rhyme verse prefer it every time
And there's many who will disagree and most will say I'm wrong
But give me ballad or rhyme verse or good old rhyming song.
You may say I am limited and with you most will agree
That I'm not into modern verse of twenty first century
But I've been an old style rhyming man since nineteen seventy three
And I am in my sixties now and there's no changing me.
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
And I am guilty of no sin and I can't see no crime
In liking sound of rhyming verse and loving words that rhyme
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Searching for inspiration
I want to write the perfect poem
Or novel, tale or anthem
Don’t know where to start
Nor how to go about that
So I asked a wise man and he said
‘Don’t start writing till you get inspired’
I looked around for inspiration
In wine, woman and song
All three together is heady
And I went to sleep unsteady
I woke up with a splitting headache
And inspiration was far away
Then I went to my wise friend
He said ‘it’s not the end.’
‘Keep looking for inspiration
You’ll find aplenty in nature’
So I went searching to the mountains
And valleys, lakes and ocean
Till I got tired of searching
And went to sleep deadbeat
Somehow I couldn’t find inspiration
In all my journeys and travails
My wise friend saw my despair
And told me not to worry
“Listen to the sound of traffic
Inhale some putrid air”
“Listen to the hum of mosquitoes
And take in the city smells”
“When you’re back in your natural habitat
Inspiration will find you there”
Always There Will Be Something To Write
for as long as the grain of sand is in the mouth
of the mother pearl so there will be pearls
it is the pain that makes it
it is the wound that makes the scar
it is the blur that makes the eyes
work hard to see
it is the haze and the mist
that make us stand and wait and carefully see
to find what is there
when the light of the sun finally comes
it is what is inside me
that i cannot just tell you
that makes me write
and for as long as i am muted by your presence
i will always have something to write
for as long as my tongue is tied
and nothing slips from there
i will always write
because there is no other outlet
no vent
for as long as i fear your wrath
i must continue to write
from the bondage of my teeth and tongue
my hands and mind
shall find its way to freedom
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Know Youre Out There Somewhere
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere, somewhere
I know Ill find you somehow
Somehow, somehow
And somehow Ill return again to you
The mist is lifting slowly
I can see the way ahead
And Ive left behind the empty streets
That once inspired my life
And the strength of the emotion
Is like thunder in the air
cos the promise that we made each other
Haunts me to the end
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere, somewhere
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere you can hear my voice
I know Ill find you somehow
Somehow, somehow
I know Ill find you somehow
And somehow Ill return again to you
The secret of your beauty
And the mystery of your soul
Ive been searching for in everyone I meet
And the times Ive been mistaken
Its impossible to say
And the grass is growing
Underneath our feet
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere, somewhere
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere you can hear my voice
I know Ill find you somehow
Somehow, somehow
I know Ill find you somehow
And somehow Ill return again to you
From the words that I remember
From my childhood still are true
That theres none so blind
As those who will not see
And to those who lack the courage
And say its dangerous to try
Well they just dont know
That love eternal will not be denied
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere, somewhere
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere you can hear my voice
I know Ill find you somehow
Somehow, somehow
I know Ill find you somehow
And somehow Ill return again to you
Yes I know its going to happen
I can feel you getting near
And soon well be returning
To the fountain of our youth
And if you wake up wondering
In the darkness Ill be there
My arms will close around you
And protect you with the truth
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere, somewhere
I know youre out there somewhere
Somewhere you can hear my voice
I know Ill find you somehow
Somehow, somehow
I know Ill find you somehow
And somehow Ill return again to you
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Real Love
[verse 1]
We are lovers true and through and though
We made it through the storm
I really want you to realize
I really want to put you on
I've been searchin' for someone
To satisfy my every need
Won't you be my inspiration
Be the real love that I need
Real love
I'm searchin' for a real love
Someone to set my heart free
Real love
I'm searchin' for a real love
[verse 2]
Oooh, when I met you I just knew
That you would take my heart and run
Until you told me how you felt for me
You said I'm not the one
So I slowly came to see
All of the things that you were made of
And now I hope my dreams and inspirations
Lead me to want some real love
[chorus]
I got to have a real love
Loves so true and oh baby
I thought your love was true
I thought you were the answer to
The questions in my mind
But it seems that I was wrong
If I stay strong maybe
I'll find my real love
[verse 3]
So I try my best and pray to God
He'll send me someone real
To caress me and to guide me t'wards
A love my heart can feel
Now I know I can be faithful
I can be your all in all
I'll give you good lovin' through the summertime,
Winter, spring, and fall
[chorus x2]
You see I'm searching for a real love
And I don't know where to go
Been around the world and high and low
And still I'll never know
How it feels to have a real love
Cause it seems it's not around
Gotta end it in this way because it
Seems he can't be found
[chorus x2]
Real love
song performed by by Mary J Blige
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Writing
My words they no longer flow like a calm river
They rip, through, delicate flowers wither
Not in a long time have I wrote pure gold
One more worthless word and I'll explode
So I write these words to help express
That to me my writing can no longer impress
If the letters I write turn to heavy stone
Maybe I should try changing my tone
Even when words sing a merry tune
When the words hit me like a monsoon
I look back and scowl at scribbles and letters
And know there is a need for them to be better
So I try to write something funny, add humour
Rhythms with big cats, small rats, lions and pumas
But it all seems to lack that special spark
Something with a vicious bite and a gentle bark
Let's try and make it dark, murder and death
Something that literally stops ones breath
Words that hide the killer, build suspense
But this dark angst and pain is all pretence
A rhyme about love, happy and quite light
A poem about everything that can go right
Maybe just maybe it will all fit together
But these words take too long, almost forever
I guess I'll just carry on in this infuriating way
I'll continue writing the words I just can't say
So when I feel the need to write I'll let it all out
Then you will find out just what I will write about
poem by Rebecca Pepper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The genius of a composer is found in the notes of his music; but analyzing the notes will not reveal his genius. The poet's greatness is contained in his words; yet the study of his words will not disclose his inspiration. God reveals himself in creation; but scrutinize creation as minutely as you wish, you will not find God, any more than you will find the soul through careful examination of your body.
quote by Anthony de Mello
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
So Much More Than Words Can Say (best love poems)
I'm trying to write a love song
But the words won't come out right
My heart is breaking painfully
Yet I'm lost for words tonight.
I'm trying to find some lyric
That would make you turn around
My heart cries out in agony
But my voice makes not a sound.
I'm trying to say I'm sorry
As I watch you walk away
My heart hurts so unbearably
So much more than words can say.
(November 2008)
-
www.charleswiles.com
poem by Charles Wiles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Make yourself at home for Friend Thad
I keep stored in my library
a treasury of poetry.
These riches I’m prepared to share
with anyone who visits there.
They’re sure to find something to please
somewhere in my anthologies.
They’ll find great poets from the past.
Whose golden words were writ to last.
Philosophy and high romance
or choose at a random take a chance.
They’ll find more formal verse than free
but I think I can guarantee.
Theres something there to suit your taste
just take your time no need for haste.
If your inspired and wish to write
the desk is placed to catch the light.
The only rule you must obey
is do not take my books away.
Through hard experience I have learned
that borrowed books are not returned.
If you should choose to visit me
you’ll find me in my library.
That’s where I spend most of my time
composing metred verse in rhyme.
22-Mar-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Writer's Drought
You've heard of a thing called writer's block and you've heard of writer's drought
But writers are never short of things on which they can write about
It's just at times their inspiration well does seem to run dry
And they cannot seem to pen a line though hard enough they try.
The writers drought it causes writers moments of self doubt
Till the words that seem locked in them eventually flow out
Through their pens to their notebooks their dry spells do not last
And on time lost out on penning words they seem to catch up fast.
Some writers in their writing drought cannot seem to feel inspired
To write even a single line they feel mentally tired
But when fresh inspiration comes to them much better stuff they do write
And feeling re-invigorated they sit and pen all night.
Most writers you will talk to of writers drought can tell
When there is no inspiration in their inspiration well
But when inspiration returns to them and their creative juices flow
They become much better writers and in self confidence grow.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetic Friend
I just met a friend on line who
complimented my poems of verse and rhyme.
He saw something in it which I can’t describe.
As if we had became one of a kind.
It was as if I had become the poetry
Instead of it coming out of me.
My poems and I became as one
As the sky with the sun.
This is a feeling which I find hard to
Put into words, like a voice which
Had never been heard,
Like the final door that has to be opened
And you have the key, that will set your
Mind and heart free.
Is there really a point in life
Where we become what we write?
Have I really gotten to such a threshold
Or is it that I’m getting old?
I guess I’m getting old!
For this is the story that I’ve been told.
Ha-ha got to love it!
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Yes, threadbare seem his songs, to lettered ken - they were worn threadbare next the hearts of men.
quote by William Watson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!