It's Rewarding Yet So Unforgiving
If you write poetry seeking fortune and fame
Impossible is the term I would use,
Very rarely do you receive such acclaim,
The odds are it's a battle you'll lose.
Yes there'll be people, who'll print what you write,
But usually they want money up front,
For demands for more you'll get no respite,
It's purely a money making stunt.
The chosen few who make loads of money,
Who picks them, who says they're the best,
It is quite sarcastically funny,
But some are crap when put to the test.
Poems are like songs or even books,
You could write a million or more,
It all depends on just who looks,
Whether you're printed or dumped in a store.
If you enjoy your literary jewels,
Be happy with what you achieve,
At times it's your critics, who'll behave like fools,
In yourself you have got to believe.
Treasure what you do it's a talent supreme,
But don't count on ever making a living,
Like all of us concerned with the arts it's a dream,
‘' It's Rewarding Yet So Unforgiving ‘'
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I Just Do It For the Enjoyment
I hear this all the time:
'Oh?
So you're a writer?
What else do you do?
How much money do you make? '
I write poetry!
'Ooooohhh!
So you like to write 'poooems'?
I use to do that,
When I was in elementary school.
You make money from doing that? '
No.
I just do it for the enjoyment!
'Oh gawd!
You're one of those sentimentalists?
One driven by emotions and unresolved issues?
Confused by life!
And abused by a dysfunctional upbringing.'
I suppose.
But I currently have two books out!
'Nooooo?
But no one's into reading poetry! '
Me either.
I didn't say I read it!
I write it!
'Oh!
Well...
You 'must' be doing it for the money? '
Not yet!
That's next!
'You want me to help you? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Love the money
Money
Is not money...
It is life....
Money is not
Money
It is happy...
Money is
Not money
It is faith...
Money is not
Money
It is friend...
Money is not
Money
It is life maker...
Money is not
Money...
It is your hard work...
Money is not
Money...
poors god...
money is not
Money
Rich people Cap...
Money is not
Money
World wide all...
Any or many thing money
With money...
So...
Love the money...
Each every day...
Earn too enjoy
with your's life...
witrh good...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Are persons people?
and he says
you don’t write poetry to please people, you know
that’s with a comma after people
you write poems to please you
with shock lines like I still treasure
our first condom oh my love
to show that you’re cool and hip
but she says why write poems at all
if they don’t please people
men have such egos I suppose
it’s because they can’t have babies
but who are people anyway, how
many persons make a people or
how few persons and are they
a random mix or is there like
a recipe, some of this lot some of that
he says people who know about these things
like poetry but how do you know
which are the people who know
I’m not sure I know he knows for a start
and she says well ordinary people
so what then do you slide up
to a bus queue when there’s no
bus in sight and say look you’re
ordinary people I’ve been looking for you
yeah watch them give you a nasty look
and skedaddle pretending they remembered
they were due some place else
I’m beginning to wonder if people really exist
I mean as such but I’ll have to stop there
my PC says it’s run out of virtual memory
that’s another thing I don’t understand
maybe people are just a virtual memory too
I’m beginning to wonder if anyone knows
what *people* should think about poetry
maybe they should just write it throw it away
see who picks it up and not never nohow talk about
other *people’s* poetry
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Write Me A POEM
wrtie me a poem.
why don't you write me a poem?
you other girls get cars and money.
write me a poem.
all i want is a poem. a long beutiful poem.
write me a poem.
poetry is like making love. long and beutiful.
write me a poem.
i don't need your money or cars. all i want is your words.
so please,
WRITE ME A POEM.
written by bleeding mascara
poem by Shadow Eyes
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I Write And I Will Always Write
i write not because i want to be famous
fame has its own place to take care of itself
i write not because i want to educate
people educate themselves and most of them are educated enough
with or without me
with or without my poems
i write not because i want to express my feelings
or display all my emotions like some sort of fireworks on the 4th of July
(maybe for quite a time i was that
a man making a ventilation
a fume looking for an opening
a pressure looking for a window
a failure seeking a redemption
a penalty asking for a reprieve
a criminal begging for pardon
a rebel detained and wishing for
pardon...
a ship looking for a destination
an island asking for its own place under the sun
a sigh desperately waiting for the mouth
whatever...
but now i begin to think so deeply
why do i write? and why do i write everyday?
and why poems? why not a novel or a short story?
or an essay on the fate of men
the conflicts within them
the wars that they have to face everyday
their deaths and
resurrections
their erections and negations
the women and their seductions
the world in its glory
history and its memory
i write because i owe my life to poetry
it has saved me from my misfortunes
i write because i want to thank the poems
i write because
i just want to say: thanks,
to express this eternal gratitude
now, that
i am still alive.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why I Write?
I write poems for myself and I write for the readers
I write for the masses and I write for the leaders
I write to imprint my thoughts in people's mind
I write to make the bad guys helpful and kind
I write to light up our path to Great God
I write for everyone home and abroad
I write to preserve values new and old
I write to make my ink precious like gold
I write for peace and I write for progress
I write to make the world a better place
All major issues I want to address
I write to see smile on God's face
poem by Asif Andalib
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Poems are not bread
POEMS ARE NOT BREAD
Poems are not bread-
They are not money
In anyway-
You can write and read
A million of them,
And it will not pay
One small bill.
You don’t have to blame
The poems,
Because
You don’t make money.
But you have to know-
They are not going to save you-
In that,
either.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The writer must earn money in order to be able to live and to write, but he must by no means live and write for the purpose of making money.
Whatever Comes To Mind
Singers sing
their love songs,
poets write
romantic poetry,
but I just sit and write
whatever comes to mind.
I don’t write
to any classification
or any given theme.
All I do is sit and write
whatever comes to mind.
I have no chosen subject,
nor any chosen form.
I just sit and write
whatever comes to mind.
25 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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I don't
Many people write
For their true emotions to unravel
Out of depression, angst, spite
But I can’t
I don’t write poems when I’m sad
They write from their experiences
When he left me
When they died
Bringing tears, causing cries
But I can’t
I don’t write when I’m sad
The tears dutifully stain my cheek
And roll on and on
Through and through
Down
Down
Down
But I can’t
And I don’t write poems when I’m sad
And all the anger and sadness
Thrust inside of me
Just bursting to get out
Screaming
Pleading
Begging to get out
But they can’t
Because I don’t write poems when I’m sad
And I don’t know what to do
How to express my pain
And woe, and the feeling
It drains me, and it shows
But there’s nothing I can do
Because I don’t ever write poetry when I’m sad
Urgently
Money...$
What For?
Sharing
Not sure
For bills, need more
Money.
Money...
Plant a seed
It is what we all need
I want to plant you URGENTLY
A Money tree.
Money,
Is it for giving?
Money
High cost of living
Money.
Money,
Such crime
Money,
People doing time
Money.
Money...
Touching, everyones hands
Germs galore; who cares I have plans
For money.
Money...
Does it make the world turn
Yes, No
One day we will learn. $$$$$$$$$$$$
Money Talks
Scene: into flashs den - a night club
Scene: in flashs den, a night club partly converted into an office.
Sung by flash, floosies and spivs:
Show me a man who says he can live without bread
And Ill show you a man whos a liar and in debt.
Theres no one alive who cant be purchased or enticed
Theres no man alive who wouldnt sell for a price,
Money talks and were the living proof,
There aint no limit to what money can do
Money talks, money talks.
Money cant breathe and money cant see,
But when I pull out a fiver people listen to me.
Money cant run and money cant walk,
But when I write out a cheque I swear to God I hear money talk.
Money talks and, baby, when youve been bought
You pay attention everytime money talks.
Money talks, money talks.
Money talks and theres no doubt about it
Money talks and we cant live without it,
Whats the point of living unless youve got money?
I just couldnt function without money.
Money talks, money talks,
Money talks, money talks.
Show me an upright respected man
And Ill have him licking my boots when I put money in his hand.
It rots your heart, it gets to your soul,
Before you know where you are youre a slave to the green gold.
Money talks and were the living proof
There aint no limit to what money can do.
Money talks you out of your self-respect,
The more you crave it the cheaper you get.
Money talks, money talks.
Money buys you time and people listen,
Money can buy a smile and make life worth living.
If youre ugly money can improve you.
I just couldnt face the world without mazuma.
Money talks, money talks.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Money
Money
Money
Money
Important
Useful
Necessary
Money
Money
Money
Wealthy
Middle
Poverty
Money
Money
Money
Save
Give
Spend
Money
Money
Borrow
Lend
Money
Money
Foe
Friend
Money
Money
Master
Slave
Money
Money
Satisfied
Crave
Money
Money
Laugh
Cry
MoneyMoney
Live
Die
Money
Money
Sick
Well
Money
Money
Heaven
Hell
poem by Howard Simon
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Writing Poetry
Some people write poetry
to fulfil their dream,
others write it as a personal diary.
While yet more write to protest.
Some write sonnets
for unfrequented love.
Some bring laughter
to sad faces somewhere,
while others dwell on memories
that they would like to share.
Some write of love, while
others write of God.
Write as you will on anything,
but the main point is that you write,
and give joy to all that will read.
poem by David Harris
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Funny Money
Some poems may be funny,
But mine is not so funny,
A shocking reality,
That involves money.
The funny thing about money,
It makes the world go round,
The real and funny money,
Banks make the world go around,
By loaning and keeping money,
A dirty secret found,
They even do the laundry,
We all are so confound!
We love the smell of money,
But don't smell the funny money,
The banks are in big trouble,
They found one, now it's double.
And that's not so funny,
Coz it's one too many.
The History Poems Have Not Been Written
The history poems have not been written
The poems after Milosz
The Wallace Stevens poems will never be written
I can’t come close
I have tried the Blake poems
But of course I am not near them either
I would like to the ironic intellectual poems
I might be able to do them
I could do a kind of surrealistic association mind poem a prose poem
But I don’t like that very much
The poems of Jerusalem have not been good enough
Poems of propaganda are awkward and unacceptable
The small poems that tell of my life
They are for me the chance at real poetry
And I will continue as best I can with them
The American poems I have not yet found the idiom for
I can be epigrammatic in Emerson Thoreau fashion
But not with the hard New England observing eye
Borges poems I love
And the stories of mind and literature
Making the drama of a life of a storyteller
Interest me
But I doubt I could truly do them well
Imitation can only take one so far
And through it one may lose one’s way entirely
I can really do only what I am
Not the Dickinson poems nor the Hopkins poems nor the Wordsworth poems nor the Keats poems nor the Amichai poems nor the poems of many others whose poetry I love
The Biblical poems have been tried
The poems of cosmic and scientific reflection
I could try to improve them
There are too many different kinds of poems to write
And I cannot write almost all of them
This is another poem about poems and poetry
I have written many for a long time now
Perhaps I need to go elsewhere and write in a new way
A way I have not dreamed or even remotely understood possible before.
The poems of the unknown poetry await me
I will go on but I am not sure now I know in which wa
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Due To Money
Due to money good friendships have come to an end
For money can make an enemy out of a friend
And due to money many are serving prison time
For money or lack of it leads many to serious crime
Due to money the Fifth Commandment has often been broken it does seem sad to say
That some with their lives due to money do pay
Those who say money is not important to reality not true
If you owe someone a lot of money for Court you are due
Whoever say money is not important believe their own lie
People have been bashed over money and left there to die
And people due to money feel happy to deceive
And that it does speak every language you ought to believe
Yes money out of a friend can make a foe
I am telling you something you already know.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The time I discovered myself a Poet
I wouldnt say I was patient
but I have an interest in poetry
Is it the dawning of a new error
or will the sky be grey
I write how I see life and it is not always pleasant
I like to write abou experiences that I have been through
my poetry has changed as I ave changed
I see it as a hobby as I write in my grange
My poetry is mainly fiction but I also write about things that are true
I am not a person that would share alot of enthusiasim
poetry is a work of art
on each sheet of blank paper
I put my mark
Poetry is simple in this world of sin
I am not into shakesphere
what I write is authentic
the imagination on paper creates magic
a poem can change an atmosphere
I would like to say my poems mean something
my poems are meant to sting a mind
I want my poems to create pictures for people who are blind
poem by Natasha Browne
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All These Poems Taken Together / Don't Make One Good Day's Pay
All these poems taken together
Do not make one good day's pay-
A lifetime of struggle
for the wages of the soul onl-
,
And the real world
that impossible thing
with its never- ending demands
mocking me -
The small failure who could never make much money,
But could always write at night
more words which said
Beauty and Love and Hope
Somehow will prevail
even through the Poverty which demeans.
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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