Writing
The cursive crawl, the squared-off characters
these by themselves delight, even without
a meaning, in a foreign language, in
Chinese, for instance, or when skaters curve
all day across the lake, scoring their white
records in ice. Being intelligible,
these winding ways with their audacities
and delicate hesitations, they become
miraculous, so intimately, out there
at the pen’s point or brush’s tip, do world
and spirit wed. The small bones of the wrist
balance against great skeletons of stars
exactly; the blind bat surveys his way
by echo alone. Still, the point of style
is character. The universe induces
a different tremor in every hand, from the
check-forger’s to that of the Emperor
Hui Tsung, who called his own calligraphy
the ‘Slender Gold.’ A nervous man
writes nervously of a nervous world, and so on.
Miraculous. It is as though the world
were a great writing. Having said so much,
let us allow there is more to the world
than writing: continental faults are not
bare convoluted fissures in the brain.
Not only must the skaters soon go home;
also the hard inscription of their skates
is scored across the open water, which long
remembers nothing, neither wind nor wake.
poem by Howard Nemerov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Nothing Has Been Proved (Demo For Dusty)
=========
A nervous boy in several ways
I never knew the world could operate this way
I was nervous when we stopped to speak
And the world came crashing around my feet
We don't talk of love
We're much too shy
But nervously we wonder when and why
A nervous boy, in spite of which
I never thought I could tremble as much as this
Your flashing eyes and sudden smiles
Are never quite at ease, and neither am I
Oh, we'll talk about it all some night
But nervously we never get it
Right
From the start I approved of you
Right from the moment you turned to face me
A nervous boy from another town
With a nervous laugh and a concentrated frown
I spoke too fast with watchful eyes
Of a recent past and some nostalgic surprise
We don't talk of love
We're much too shy
But nervously we wonder when and
Smile
Knowing why I approved of you
Right from the moment you turned to face me
A nervous boy
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nervously
(tennant/lowe)
------------
A nervous boy in several ways
I never knew the world could operate this way
I was nervous when we stopped to speak
And the world came crashing around my feet
We dont talk of love
Were much too shy
But nervously we wonder when and why
A nervous boy, in spite of which
I never thought I could tremble as much as this
Your flashing eyes and sudden smiles
Are never quite at ease, and neither am i
Oh, well talk about it all some night
But nervously we never get it
Right
From the start I approved of you
Right from the moment you turned to face me
A nervous boy from another town
With a nervous laugh and a concentrated frown
I spoke too fast with watchful eyes
Of a recent past and some nostalgic surprise
We dont talk of love
Were much too shy
But nervously we wonder when and
Smile
Knowing why I approved of you
Right from the moment you turned to face me
A nervous boy
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm Writing to the Wind
I'm writing to the wind
The words drift from my mouth
They dance and mix about
Then lose what they're about
I'm writing to the wind
To say I stand alone
To let the people know
I came and then went home
I'm writing to the wind
Because no one seems to know
We're nearly almost at the door
Where no one want to go
And if the wind says no
I think I'll understand
The wind just comes and goes
And seldom makes a stand
The wind can pass me buy
Or stay awhile to linger
The wind can never die
Or rise to point it's finger
The wind goes on and on
Around the world forever
Unless it comes to find
It's a sad and poor endeavor
For after we are gone
The wind will just be flying
'Ore empty barren plain
We made as we lay dieing
poem by S. Michael Downs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ice Skating
People love to go skating, across the ice;
It may be rather chilly, but it’s just so nice.
People wrapped up in coats, gloves and scarves,
Share each other’s company, and also some laughs.
Fairy lights twinkle, up in the trees nearby.
Excited eyes sparkle, and spirits are high.
Across the rink, the skaters twist and twirl;
On the ice, their skates create ornate swirls.
Novice skaters hang on, tightly, to the side;
Their nerves, with smiles, they try to hide.
A good sense of balance is vital, to stay upright;
Wibble-wobbling about, some people lose the fight.
Some skaters execute some amazing moves;
That they are old pros, they can easily prove.
Some people hold hands, as they skate around;
Taking in all of the exciting sights and sounds.
The skaters’ noses and cheeks glow, rosy pink,
As they make their way around the huge ice rink.
Some of the first time skaters, tumble and fall,
And they just can’t seem to get the hang of it all.
It’s a festive experience, which is hard to beat,
And, for many, it’s an exciting winter time treat.
To go skating, at an outdoor rink, people wait all year;
It’s an activity, guaranteed to bring some festive cheer.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Small Time
small time, you call it small time
writing
is small time, there is no money
in writing, like a
politician, look at him, he does not
write, someone writes for him
and he gets the prize
the money
the pot
the jackpot
and look at you
you keep on writing
and writing
and writing
oh la la
poems, fit for a woman
her limited mind
her gullibility
her passion for words and words and words
her imagination
and look at you
poor man, poor, poor, poor
what you give
to this world, what are you giving to this world
it is not even a flower
just a poem for her, and you claim that you are winning her heart?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In figure skating
In figure skating its the small triumphs that matter the most.
When you can't get back all the time lost.
I had a lot of fun landing an axel.
To me it was almost felt like landing a triple axel.
I know it was only a small triumph but to me it was wonderful.
I never was able to get many hours of practice.
I did my best on the ice.
All figure skaters work hard to have patience.
They may never know if they will recieve their biggest
or smallest triumph.
Even If I went back and landed a triple axel.
I would still look back fondly on my small triumph.
To be honest though the axel to me is my greatest triumph.
An axel was like setting myself free.
If your thinking that small triumphs are great.
I would love to agree.
In figure skating people are always coming and going.
Not many of them get to experience the power of jumping.
Some of them will never know.
An axel feels like a bird or plane flying.
A lot of them will never come back because of the fear of falling.
So anyones triumph could be not quiting.
The smallest triumphs should never be put down because this is
a figure skaters very beginning.
Every figure skaters story deserves to be told.
Even if they never won an olympic or any type of gold.
A figure skater must have joy or her sport will get old.
So please don't underestimate small triumphs in figure skating.
Disaaaociative
I can tell you what they say in space
That our earth is too grey
But when the spirit is so digital
The body acts this way
That world was killing me
That world was killing me
Disassociative
The nervous system's down
The nervous system's down I know (x2)
CHORUS
I can never get out of here
I don't want to just float in fear
A dead astronaut in space (x2)
Sometimes we walk like we were shot
Through our heads, my love
We write our song in space
Like we are already dead and gone
Your world was killing me
Your world was killing me
Disassociative
Your world was killing me
Your world was killing me
Disassociative
CHORUS
The nervous system's down (x4)
CHORUS
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just to Be in the Presence of This Baby Three Weeks Old
Just to be in the presence of this baby three weeks old
Is a great pleasure-
Just to hover over her cradle
And watch her sleep
Is to see the whole world differently.
How strangely and deeply moving
The sight of this child-
How small how miraculous she is
How happy she makes us all –
There is Hope in the world again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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may The Year Twothousand And Twelve Usher In......
May the year two thousand twelve usher in a world
A world whose achievements sure to be etched in gold
Making present maladies and miseries old
Facing future problems and challenges quite bold!
A new world without the scourge of terrorism
A wise world without the stigma of racism
A nice world without the color of fascism
A great world without the skin of chauvinism!
May the New Year ring in greater peace and plenty
May the new world see the great new vision hefty
May the green world enjoy air fresh and water pure
May the peaceful world see the joy of love so pure!
Let the people all over fight against vices
Vices of all hues and colors – not in slices
Let the people all over build character fine
Character sterling and noble for all so nice!
poem by Subbaraman N V
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Draw You
I see the spirit moving
In the very fabric of the universe
I tell you so
You see the power in your hand
To ease the suffering of a dying child
You tell me so
I reach for stars
But you are keeping
Both feet firmly planted
On the ground
Or so I've found
I wrestle with eternal questions
You wrestle with the here and now
Cause you're here now
It breaks my heart
That your alluring eye
Are blind to what I see
It's tragic that the quests
That move our live
Are just so different
But I would draw you into my heart
If your eyes weren't closed to me
And I would draw you into the world
Behind the one you see
If I could speak my mind
Then I would take you to secret places
Only ours to find
Your spirit longs to breathe
If only you'd believe
I look for miracles
And search for the miraculous
Along my way
You seem to say
The opposite is true for you
You just seem satisfied
With what you find each day
Your life's OK
Your spirit's lost and wandering in the sand
I swear I hear your voice
Crying save me from the desert
Take my hand
Lead me to water
But I would draw you into my heart
If your eyes weren't closed to me
And I would draw you into the world
Behind the one you see
If I could speak my mind
Then I would take you to secret places
Only ours to find
Your spirit longs to breathe
If only you'd believe
song performed by by Daniel Bedingfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Come Alive In Writing
I come alive in writing
Even if the writing means nothing to anyone else-
I come alive in writing
Even if I am totally deluding myself as to its value-
I come alive in writing
Even if at times while writing there is an underlying hopelessness and despair -
I come alive in writing
As if writing is what God has given me to do-
I come alive in writing
As if through it I can truly give to and help others-
I come alive in writing
As if life has meaning through it-
I come alive in writing
Even when I sense the writing is not good or great
As I would wish it to be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Moonless In You...
so many
yes so many
and so insignificant that sometimes
you think
what for? there is no meaning there? there is nothing
that i cannot understand in what you are saying?
you challenge the world
tell me directly
why all the winding ways? why all these concealed destinations?
you are blind
and yet so fully awake
you are here at the center of this universe
but you are never
the sun....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Acoustic #3
They painted up your secrets
With the lies they told to you
And the least they ever gave you
Was the most you ever knew
And you wonder where these dreams go
When the World gets in your way
Whats the point in all this screaming
No ones listening anyway
Your voice is small and fading
And your hiding in your room
And your mother loved your father
Cuz she's got nowhere to go
And she wonders where these dreams go
Cuz the world got in her way
Whats the point in ever trying
Nothings changing anyway
They pressed their lips against you
And you love them as they say
And they try so hard to reach you
But your falling anyway
And you know I see right through you
Cuz the world gets in your way
Whats the point in all this screaming
Your not listening anyway
song performed by by Goo Goo Dolls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Draw You (demo)
I see the spirit moving in the very fabric of the universe
I tell you so
You see the power in your hands
To ease the suffering of a dying child
You tell me so
I reach for stars
But you are keeping both feet firmly planted
On the ground
Or so Ive found
I wrestle with eternal questions
You wrestle with the here and now
Cause youre here and now
It breaks my heart that your alluring eyes
Are blind to what I see
Its tragic that the quests that move our lives
Are just so different
But I could draw you into my heart
If your eyes werent closed to me
And I would draw you into the world
Behind the one you see
If I could speak my mind
Then I could take you to secret places only ours to find
Your spirit longs to breathe
If only youd believe
(la la la nah nah nah la la)
I look for miracles
And search for the miraculous along my way
You seem to say
The opposite is true for you
You just seem satisfied with what you find each day
Your lifes ok
Your spirits lost and wandering in the sand
I swear I hear your voice
Crying save me from the desert
Take my hand
Lead me to water
But I could draw you into my heart
If your eyes werent closed to me
And I could draw you into the world
Behind the one you see
If I could speak my mind
Then I would take you to secret places only ours to find
Your spirit longs to breathe
If only youd believe
song performed by by Daniel Bedingfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Childhood World Was Once The Only World
My childhood world was once the only world
Years later when it exists only in my memory
It has become one of many worlds the Jewish people have known
In their long journey-
Its idiom and characters its look and its feel
Its small dreams and distinct languages
Are gone-
All I thought once the whole of the real world
Is only a small part of what has gone on far longer than it
And all these worlds together too
Are not the whole of the universe –
Yet my memory of this world makes it larger and larger
And for me still it is in the center of space and time –
One day soon when I am gone
No one will know it as I have-
Some traces of it will remain in the minds of other witnesses
And when they are gone
This world too will have only a remnant of it
Remaining as words.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bi-Polar Disorder
I am writing, something after a long time. Had been suffering from Bi-polar disorder recently. The suffering had reached its extreme and I had run away from home since I started to feel that nobody was believing me and was treating me as a fake. Trust me, I am not a fake. My personality is really screwed up in many ways, that even I lose the track of my own identity.
Right now I truly wish that I had her since without her love my world has sunk even deeply into darkness.
While I was walking on the road, I had a great fall. My hand started bleeding and nobody cared to even pick me up. However, then I managed to find an auto-rickshaw and somehow managed to reach a safe place where I could see some light. Then, I called my parents and spent the night in their home. In the morning I came back since I decided to live, even though I have no hope left.
Felt, as if my world ended, nothing actually remained with me, I felt so.
poem by Rohit Sapra
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A World Of My Own
When I write I go into
a world of my own.
My concentration is so strong
the rest of the world around me
just doesn’t belong.
The rest of the world vanishes
when my writing takes control
and I slip into a world of my own.
I only see the writing in front of me
everything else gets ignored.
My hearing does not detect
the voices surrounding me
when I drift into
a world of my own.
It is as though I’m hypnotised
by the words that I write
and all else never matters
disappearing out of sight
whenever I enter into
a world of my own.
27 September 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Atheism Compliments God
Since God does not exist,
He could not create the world,
Said the atheist.
Then who created it?
The poet asked.
Well, the world just came into being
By itself, she replied.
Well, in that case
This is indeed a great compliment
For God, the poet said.
She gave him a surprised look.
And why is that? She asked.
Imagine that a book, for example,
Could write itself without the author,
Would not be it a fantastic miracle?
Yes, indeed, she agreed.
So, a self-creating universe,
The poet said, would even be
An immeasurably greater
And miraculous accomplishment,
The utmost manifestation
Of the Glory of God.
Therefore, paradoxically, atheism
Unwillingly but compliments God.
poem by Paul Hartal
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The Poem I Am Writing Now
The poem I am writing now
does not know if it will be finished
it does not even know if it will be a poem -
it is slowly appearing line by line
and making its own meaning on the page-
Is it worth anything?
will anyone care?
I don't know -
The poem I am writing now
is just these lines
and these lines like all lines
are only small words
in a vast universe
that has long lived
and will probably longer live
without them.
Why then write these words now?
The poem I am writing now is saying,
'I am here now'.
But why should this mean anything to anyone else?
The poem I have written here
is not the poem I would have posted here
It is only the poem I am finishing now
a poem without great love or belief in itself.
The poem I am writing now
is written.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Writing To
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Writing every emotion..
With such a white background.
It makes no sound
Even as the keys I pound.
Let my words have bite
Let from my words drip out meanings beyond meanings
Its something I try to be constantly be achieving.
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
I want every heart and mind
Sucked in cause this is my world stage
No sense of the time.
Never to turn the page
Stuck in to a world oh so oh so fine
Writing to feel
Writing to heal
Writing to steal
Listen to her melody, as she sings.
Let chaos reign down from the skies
What will this day really bring?
Will the letter say good bye?
Will it mend everything?
Making everything better.
Destroying all the consequences
That exist in your world.
Welcome to the place I visit daily.
Inspirational maddness,
It attacks, attacks, and attacks.
With perfect sadness
I must let go once more.
And then the words hit the floor
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
Becoming one with my soul.
Fighting for its one and only control.
Its mine, Its mine. Its mine.
In this reality it subsequently is not
A constant questioning of what?
Writing to feel
Writing to heal.
Writing to steal.
With every sound, taste, and light.
The worlds get get oh so oh so bright
Understand that which is not so forthright
This is my night, and day.
So come on join me, please this way.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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