Writer's block
Have you ever felt
the need to write
Tho’ your fingers are leaden
And your brain won’t go
Have you ever concentrated
with all your might
When your mind feels deadened
And your creativity won’t flow
Have you ever felt
You’ve got no more to say
No more ideas
Buried deep in your mind
Well that’s the way I feel
And I know it’s not right
But I just can’t think of a single thing
….To write about tonight
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scribbler's Stymie
Pen and paper in sight
I've got no poem to write
Staying up all night
I've got no poem to write
Although my mind is bright
I've got no poem to write
It's windy out tonight, should I go fly a kite?
I've got no poem to write
My ceiling, it is white
I've got no poem to write
It's 4: 59! Five, but not quite
I've got no poem to write
In your arms I'd feel so light
I've got no poem to write
I've had no sleep tonight
I've got no poem to write
Will you just hold me tight?
I've got no poem to write
Outside it's almost light
I've got no poem to write
It's late, off goes my light
I've got no poem to write
poem by Julia Grace
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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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Poetry The Beacon!
Beacon of literature is ever poetry only!
Greatness of literature lies in quality ideas;
Richness of language depends on poetry;
Worthiness of matter in poetry only is best!
Writing needs creative mind whatever thing is!
Novels, Short stories, Prose and Poetry are they
That enhance the richness of literature ever;
That too writing poetry makes one great sure!
Having chosen the form of poetry to write itself
Is not an easy matter as it needs skill and time
To write what one feels, thinks and conceives
In heart, mind and soul, otherwise no good at all!
Other forms of literature needs concentrated work
But poetry needs natural ability to express free all!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Countless Waiting Gems
My fingers move across the empty page.
Its shining smoothness pure and newly felt.
But not one word on it has yet been spelt,
All inspiration hides within a cage.
And sadly there’s no key, to set it free.
Ideas come and then ideas go,
No single letter, up to now’s been writ.
Perhaps one’s trying too hard, just a bit.
I’ll ease up for a while, and take it slow.
Let my tired mind believe that I’ll achieve.
Ink within my pen has suddenly dried,
So has my font of countless waiting gems.
Nothing is left now in my old brainstems.
I think my mind is on a downward slide.
Could this then be my age, my final stage.
No it is just a bleep, all will be well,
My mind will open up and will receive,
New thoughts that form and I will then retrieve,
All the information, clear as a bell.
For as knowledge can grow, my pen will flow.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Z-Without You
I will not be able to write
without
you;
There will be no new lines
or ideas;
until
I hear in my mind
you breathing;
hear two hearts beating
above this page.
Even this
next word
isn't real
unless I envision
that it will
by you read;
that it will be felt
by you too.
Any eager beginning
is meaningless
unless
you sit with me here.
I move my chair now;
as evening comes
to better see
what to write;
This phrase too
and the next one or two
awaits my imagining
you'll see the words flow here.
I can't say when the words
will come;
they'll surprise;
but I am very clear
who they are for,
and they will sail
across this paper
buffeted by the gentle breeze
of we two breathing;
hearts beating.
Nothing happens
unless I feel
you share it too.
Dear Reader
I feel you.
and more.
Thanks for reading this volume.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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(to all poets) Head in the Clouds
My head was up in the clouds
No daylight to be found.
White and gray clouds covered my sight
I could not see for my mind was in flight.
I looked all around and all I could see
Was the clouds covering me.
I felt like I was in a plane
And all the passengers seeing the same.
So I know I’m not the only one
Who feels this way
Millions of people go through this
From day to day.
It doesn’t matter to you what
The others are going through
Just that it’s happening to you.
You don’t like this feeling
of being up in the air
And with others your thoughts
You can not share.
Is this a sign of dementia or Alzheimer’s
Disease, And can I set myself free.
They say “ the mind is a terrible thing to lose”
It is not something that we choose.
Will I forget my loved ones
And everything that’s around
Will I stumble and fall to the ground.
Right now we still have our faculties
But for how long will that be?
So let us continue to write while we can
For tomorrow we can not plan.
Write everything that you think
See and feel, for in the future
Your mind may reel.
Head up in the clouds? Who is to say.
Until the medical fields find a better way.
poem by Louis Rams
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Write Me
Aerosmith
Write Me
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
I said, the ways of the night are evil with eyes that love the day,
but I'll never never never never never get so far away.
I said write me, write me, write me.
I said write me, write me, write me.
Well there's nothin' I can see that'd ever make
me want to be without her she's good, she's good to me.
Said there's no way to explain the kind of feeling
that you get out in the rain she's good, she's good to me.
See this emptiness inside it makes me scream
it make me crawl out of my high, she's good, she's good to me.
I love her.
Write me a letter, write me a letter, write it today, I'm goin' away.
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
Well I've been so many places hidin' from the wind and the rain,
But you could write me a letter for to save me from a goin' insane.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Don't write me baby.
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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FEEL AGAIN - Song Lyrics
Passing by my eyes
Are people living lives
They flow before my gaze
Just like the memories
In my mind
I watch them from
My hiding place
In shadows so
To hide my face
And as they pass
The memories flash
Of how it felt to feel that way
And home…
I long for home…
Where is my home…
Please take me home…
Home…
Please take me home…
Where is my home…
I long for home…
I watch the people
Not because
I wanna be their friend
I watch them not
Because I hope to know
Them in the end
I simply watch
And ask myself
Why do I feel this way
How did I get here
Can I hope
To feel again someday
To feel the feelings
That they feel…
To hope, to love, to cry
To fall and feel the pain
Or rise in triumph to the sky
And home…
I long for home…
Where is my home…
Please take me home…
Home…
Please take me home…
Where is my home…
I long for home…
All I have are memories
Of the times
When things were good
Memories of the days
Of when I felt
The way I should
Memories now that
Flow before the view
Inside my mind
Just as the passing people
Flow before my open eyes
Oh God! How can I be
Like them
Is there a way to
Start again
I know there is
I know its there
I’ll find it
I don’t ****ing care
What I have to go through
What I lose and what I lack
I know my heart
Can feel again
If I can only
Find my way back
Home…
I’m going home…
This is my home…
It feels like home…
Home…
This feels like home…
This feels like home…
This feels like home…
Home…
This feels like home…
This feels like home…
This feels like home…
I’m finally home
…Jeff Bresee
poem by Jeff Bresee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Poem Is An Original
No poem is an original
everyone who writes
poetry thinks their poem
was an original, it just so
happens that their poem just
surfaced to the top
of their mind first, so they
were able to write it.
Everyone has love, hate
compassion buried deep
in their soul.
Poets are able to bring
all of this to the surface,
to construct, add the words,
but it is not an original
idea, for the poet because
they wrote it now, it
becomes an original for them.
Who has not heard a song,
read a poem, story or book,
seen a movie and said,
to themselves, hey I had
that same idea.
Only thing is, someone else
brought it to the surface
of the mind, and wrote it first.
Even this poem I'm writing
now is not an original
someone out there
has this idea buried
deep in their soul.
So if you have an idea
for a poem, get busy
write it, don't wait,
or you won't write an original
start today,
don't delay.
wrote 2-2-07
Being A Poet
I find that I can compose a poem best,
When I am out walking, or am at rest.
When I am lying in my bed at night,
I think about what I am able to write.
Or when I’m out walking, or sat on a train,
Words and ideas, all rush round my brain.
Sometimes, ideas just appear in my head,
Or may be a result of something I’ve read.
At fellow passengers, on a train, I take a look;
Some chatter away, while others read a book.
But, me, I’m sat there, quietly composing verse;
With dozens of ideas, my creative mind bursts.
If I compose lines on my way into town,
I repeat them over, until I write them down;
If they are not written down straightaway,
Around my mind, other thoughts then play.
There are many things which inspire me to write,
Such as animals, the seasons, and the sky at night.
If I try to force ideas, they just do not flow;
The poem itself, I find, just will not grow.
I like to write on a layperson’s level;
In too much information, I do not revel.
Having chosen a decent subject or idea,
I then need to get my brain in to gear.
Of a subject, I like to consider all of the aspects,
But I keep my writing simple; not too complex.
To make a poem rhyme, words I may change,
But I only use words that are within my range.
In using unfamiliar words, I can see no point;
A nice poem, tricky words, can really disjoint.
Words, within my head, I keep batting around,
Until the perfect combination, is finally found.
With poetry, I really love the creative process,
But over time, I’ve become slightly obsessed.
Sometimes I find myself talking in rhyme;
That I am a poet, this must be a sure sign.
Of my finished poems, I often feel proud;
One day, I’ll be brave and read them aloud.
Into my swirling head, ideas continue to pop;
I love writing poetry and never want to stop!
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Write, Write Your Story
It is delving into the ocean of childhood days
It is giving words and life to great memories
It is mapping the mind with rich fantasies
It is wrestling between fiction and realities.
Write and get your pen, write, write and swim
As you paddle your boat on the ocean of creativity.
Write, write and raise your pen, as you unfold
your wings to fly to doors and worlds far and near.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Creativity Of The Mind
one thing with the mind is that
it never stops thinking
and this is something that i am really afraid of sometimes
this creativity that never rests
and so i dabble in poetry
and even short stories
i murmur to myself and muster some other ideas that always creep
like some grasses in my backyard
or dusts coming from nowhere landing on some
new furniture or stains that you wonder
where do all these come from?
i wonder. I wander. I move. My ideas move me
like
sometimes, i feel, so robotic, like what Robert sometimes feel
when he write a line or two and call it poetry.
something creeps in my heart and i am filled with desire.
i am afraid, i go out of bounds, and then you discover
dirt and shattered glasses
or i may not know it
you discover blood dripping from my hands
and to my surprise
i feel nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Loves Holiday
Maurice white & skip scarborough
Would you mind if I touch,
If I kiss, if I held you tight
In the morning light
Would you mind if I said how I felt tenderly tonight
Again cause
I never ever felt this way in my heart before
Love has a holiday in my heart tonight
Would you mind if I looked
Into your eyes till Im hypnotized
And I lose my pride
Would you mind if I make love to you till Im satisfied
Again cause
I never ever felt this way in my heart before
Love has a holiday in my heart tonight
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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 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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thats Not How It Is
I woke up in bed last night when something came upon me
I was not lying there alone but Ive never felt so lonely
Somethings come between us, girl feels like weve hit a wall
How can I know just how you feel when we dont touch at all
This no communication thing is quickly growing old
This isolation booth Im in is dark and turning cold
I used to steal your breath away with just one little kiss
Me and you, we were so in love back then but thats not how it is
But Id catch moonlight in a bottle if we could drink a toast to happiness
Fill my pickup bed with roses and back it right up to your door
Id write your name in candy kisses from here to carolina
If you change your mind and love me like before but thats not how it is
I have tossed and turned and rolled it over in my mind
Not knowing all the questions make the answers hard to find
I think Ive covered everything but still theres something that Ive missed
I used to read you baby like a book but thats not how it is
But Id catch moonlight in a bottle if we could drink a toast to happiness
Fill my pickup bed with roses and back it right up to your door
Id write your name in candy kisses from here to carolina
If you change your mind and love me like before but thats not how it is
Id write your name in candy kisses from here to carolina
If you change your mind and love me like before but thats not how it is
Thats not how it is
Thats not how it is
song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Write Me A Letter
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it has)
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it is)
Well Ive been away forever
Suicides crossin my mind
Well Ill never, never get so far behind
I said, the ways of the night are evil
Without that lord of day
But Ill never, never get so far away
I said write me
Write me
Write me
Write me
I said write me
Write me
Write me
Well theres nothin I can see
Thatd ever make me
Want to be without her
Shes good, she good to me
Said theres no way to explain
The kind of feelin that you get out in the
She good, she good to me
She good, she good to me
I love her
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it has)
Write me a letter
Write me a letter
Write it today
Im goin away (yes it is)
Well Ive been away forever
Suicides crossin my mind
Well Ill never, never get so far behind
Well Ive been so many places
Hidin from the wind and the rain
But you could write me a letter
For to save me from goin insane
Write me
Excite me
Write me
Write me
Write me
Write me...
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To be a writer
They say, when you have nothing to say
Do not say anything
They say when you have nothing good to say
Do not say anything
He is not convinced
He wants to be a writer and to be one he must write
What is in his mind
To be a writer he must write and write and write
Even when there is nothing to write
Even when there is nothing to say even when nobody listens
Even when the word is dead even when there is no sense at all
Even when he gets blind and deaf and mute even when his fingers are cut even when his mind is blank even when his consciousness is lost
Even when you are angry even when you say what is written is nothing
But trash, dung, cadaver, corpse, poo, pee, even when there is nothing
Anymore,
He writes because he is a writer and no one can stop him now.
he is
he is writing
he is writing always
he is writing always whatever that needs to be written
and here you are foolishly reading. thanks to you, audience of one.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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