Related quotes: I can't write, I can't...

I can't write, I can't paint, I don't compose.

quote by Richard Attenborough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes

Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation.

quote by Graham Greene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What you compose with is neither here nor there, you compose with words, or you compose with stone plants and trees, or you compose with events; the Sheriff's officer, or whatever.

quote by Ian Hamilton Finlay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paint Me Down

Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im walking into studio
Consider strange appeal
Paint me in the home
Im brushing up on sketchbook
Designs for love unreal
Paint me in the home
Oil and skin youll need to buy it
Consider what I mean
She sinks beneath thr moving pictures
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im soaking up the surface
Conceaiving new idea
Paint me in the home
Shes oiling up her subject
But all still life is here
Paint me in the home
All the boys with framed dimension
A cover up on lust
Hell take his pain and paint it over
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down

song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All The Little Children

Walking down the same worn paths again
Do you fly?
Do you?
I'd correct my own way
If I could
If I should
Should do
I will play the same old notes again
Do you write?
Do you?
I'd compose a new chord
If I could
If I should
I should do
All the other children
Love to sing along
But it's my song
I'm supposed to go back
To the first key
But I won't
I'll change it
Do I have to play by all the rules?
Well I won't
I'm changing
Guess I'll have to stick out
From the rest
"He's not right, break him"
Guess I'll have to try to be the best
"That sounds good, we'll take him"
All the other children
Want to sing along
But it's my song
I'll compose a new song
From my heart
Do you like?
Do you?
I'll compose a new song
For the world
Will you sing?
Will you?
I'll breathe my soul
Into the sun
He's the light, burning
And I'll shine down on everyone
Set your hearts a-turning
All your little children
They will sing along
To my song

song performed by by Daniel Bedingfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Primary Education

Read
Reading will let you know many things
Reading is a good habit.
(Read)

Write
Writing will convey your message
Day and night.
(Write)

Paint
Painting is a way to express your thought
Paint even if you are a saint.
(Paint)

Sing
Singing is a way to express emotions
Let singing be your engagement ring.
(Sing)

Dance
Dancing will wipe out your pain
So don’t miss the chance.
(Dance)

poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ever since I began to compose, I have remained true to my starting principle: not to write a page because no matter what public, or what pretty girl wanted it to be thus or thus; but to write solely as I myself thought best, and as it gave me pleasure.

quote by Felix Mendelssohn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paint my eyes in flowers

paint my hands in dragons
paint my back in windings
paint my arms in lightening
paint my neck in anks
my forehead intricate lines
paint my shoulder butterflies
paint my heart in henna
in henna of red in henna of black
body paint my heart

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Artiste

If I were a painter!
I would paint a picture of you,
If I were a songwriter!
I would sing of my love for you,
If I were an author!
I would write a story of love,
But I am only me
as you can see.

If I were a painter!
I would paint a picture of you,
I brush your hair,
with gentle strokes,
with a touch of brown,
and of you on your bed.
I'll make you blush and glow,
With a single stroke I can
make you smile again,
But I am only me
as you can see.

If I were a songwriter!
I would sing of my love for you,
I would write the words,
to tell you how I feel,
And maybe make this real,
But I am only me
as you can see.

If I were an author!
I would write a story of love,
a love that would bind
our two hearts,
write words of love for your voice,
as I let it wash over me,
of kissing your lips and the taste of you,
But I am only me,
as you can see.

RG/RR

poem by Robert Green
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paint body art beautiful

her majesty the hand
with nail graffiti polish
pain in henna red
paint in henna black
paint paint my heart

paint body art faithful
faithful to the strokes
paint in strokes divine
paint in strokes of red
paint in strokes of black
paint paint my heart

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I write because I write - as anyone in the arts does. You're a painter because you feel you have no choice but to paint. You're a writer because this is what you do.

quote by Richard Price
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Whither Thy Art, Man?

Yes, men and women, paint their eyelashes,
And dye their hair in hues and paint their nails;
And wear head-bands, multi-colored sashes,
And paint the tortoises and shells of snails.

Some paint their bodies fully or one-half;
Some paint their country’s flag over their face;
Some look like leopards, lions, clowns that laugh;
Some tattoo pictures or paint words so base.

Some paint their naked bodies as if dressed
Or apply stickers of men, Gods or beast;
Their art on human skins looks to them best
And dance in ritual for a sumptuous feast.

The art of man has gone so crazy now,
For men paint Dogs, cats, cattle, also cow.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paint

Don't paint me red,
Red is for bold women that use cheap scent

Don't paint me blue
Blue is for sadness and regret

Don't paint me green
Green is for envy and not to be seen

Don't paint me black
black is for the night and I love the light

Don't paint me white
White is for virgins and me, I love a flirtin'

Don't paint me orange
Orange is vile and I have some style

Don't paint me brown or grey or cream
these colours are boring and really not me.

Paint me in silver, platinum or gold
so I remain precious as I grow old.

poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Again and again

Again and again
Over and over again
I dream and dream
I know this life is a dream
In dream I compose poem
In poem I write
And write and cross
The boundaries of time
Place people and culture
And religion and ocean
And earth and sky
And become shy
To tell you goodbye.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Writers are not just people who sit down and write. They hazard themselves. Every time you compose a book your composition of yourself is at stake.

quote by E.L. Doctorow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O My Jaan

O my Jaan now let's have fun
With my body's machine gun
I will kill your mind's Satan

With my body's powerful pen
I want to write a love poem
You will forget all other men

With my body's an injection
I can cure your love-diseases
Please let me do it off and on

My kisses are like paint and brush
I want to paint my love with it
So let me paint, baby please hush

My eyes are like sky's black hole
Baby, please stare at my eyes
You will reach your wanted goal

poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Written By A Confessed Bipolar (her Name To Be Revealed Upon Her Permission)

I write because I can
I write because there are so many things to be written.
I write because I can make a painting without a brush and paints in my hand.
I write because I can capture the moment without having a camera.
I write because letters and words are the only recipe I know how to cook.
I write because I want to read what I’ve written.
I write because I’m used to speak in silence.
I write because I have a story to tell.
I write because I want to strip off my flesh and live as a pure being.
I write because I can record my “voice” without having a recorder.
I write because it’s like a cup of coffee, it keeps me awake
I write because I want to live even when I do not exist.
I write because this is my throwing stones when I’m frustrated.
6/11/09 at 4: 42 PM
I write because I can flaunt my being when I don’t have clothes to show off.
I write because this is like making an encyclopedia to a coloring book.
I write because it’s more effective than my lithium medication.
I write because I’m tired of carrying these baggages on the road.
I write because I’m tired of talking too much.
I write because it’s a healthier diversion than smoking.
I write because it’s more therapeutic than analyzing my problem.
I write because I want to paint a thousand pictures with words.
I write because I can put colors to the letters and make a rainbow of words.
I write because it’s the key combinations to my hidden vaults.
I write because my ball pen is my best friend in the darkest nights.
I write because it surprises me with what I am capable of thinking&doing. 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because I like that ideas are popping like pop corns.
I write because I can wander in the adventures of my own world.
I write because I have to cleanse my collection of memories of an old home.
I write because like a mirror you need to do a lot of reflections.
I write because I want to fight the battle of life.
I write because I wanted my little voice to be heard.
I write because I want to run from the insanities of the world.
I write because pictures don’t talk.
I write because it helps me connect the dots when I look back in my life.
I write because it brings me back to my crib of silence.
I write because it makes a buzz to other bees in my beehive.
I write because unlike my bike my destination is limitless.
I write because I want to become an inspiration without extinction 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because like strumming of the guitar, it vibrates in my soul.
I write because I love to write.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dream Images

if I painted pictures
I would paint dream images
I would paint visions of inner mind's eye
I would paint life in veils swirling kaleidoscopic moods
I would paint canvasses imprinting fabric expanding universes

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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.