Sometimes Mentally Therapeutic
With a call to respond,
I imagine that is what a writer...
Of poetic verse does.
Something said that is received,
By another who thinks...
A delivery of words written,
Opens doors to communicate...
An attention the author seeks.
Part of this is true.
A writer wishes minds,
To review a thought process too!
But words selected to express,
Those life experiences one gets.
Is sometimes mentally therapeutic,
To get what one feels off of one's chest.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Will The Words Come Back?
Words slip off our pen
like warm butter off a knife.
They fall in unison across the page
with everything we write.
Then one day the words don’t flow
in unison like they used to before.
They have no rhythm within them
and just become no more than words.
We look at what we’ve written
and there is no bounce in them.
The words become no more than words
once written by a creative hand.
There is no meaning in what they say
they have no heart anymore.
They are just words written on a page
with no rhyme or reason for them being there.
Some call it a writer’s block;
others call it stagnation of the mind.
The creative juices fall away to nothing,
no spark to be kindled,
no emotions to be released,
no protests to be made,
no stories to be assembled
like a jigsaw in your mind.
Just an empty pen with words
that don’t make sense anymore.
Struggles without feeling,
ideas leading nowhere
on a spiralling downward turn.
You are no longer a writer,
your creativity is gone
and the only question you have,
will the words come came back?
13 July 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paperback Writer
(LennonMcCartney)
Paperback writer
Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It's based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's the dirty story of a dirty man
And his clinging wife doesn't understand
His son is working for the Daily Mail
It's a steady job but he wants to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's a thousand pages, give or take a few
I'll be writing more in a week or two
I can make it longer if you like the style
I can change it round and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
If you really like it you can have the rights
It could make a million for you overnight
If you must return it, you can send it here
But I need a break and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer (fade out)
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Requiem For A Poet
The ground laid waste beneath me
no flowering fruits lay there,
no fertility of imagination,
no quest to ride upon.
Gone are the flowing shrub of words
that coloured the winding path
upon which poets tread.
Left behind the words dissolve
and the metre melts away.
Maybe some day in the future
this pen will write again,
but until that day comes along,
this is a requiem for a poet.
and so long to all his friends.
19 February 2011
Author’s Note:
Before anyone thinks that I am giving up writing or I am in a writer’s block. This is just a poem as I am neither giving up or in a writer’s block..
DVH
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Reciprocate...Without the Need of Words
Sometimes I fail to respond,
To a request that has been made.
Often in my humility,
I'm left with nothing to say.
Or wish within myself,
I could communicate...
Without words to select from.
Or create a debate,
I did not intend.
And then I don't want to offend.
Anyone who is sensitive,
And may not comprehend...
What it is I am feeling then.
Sometimes I fail to respond,
To a request that has been made.
Often in my humility,
I'm left with nothing to say.
And I guess that is why I am blessed to write.
With a craving that feeds my appetite.
And learning from my own experiences,
I have preferences and things I like.
With a hope within me,
One day I might...
Share nibbles and bits of my life,
And to reciprocate...
Without the need of words,
Or one sound made.
And let our eyes just express,
What is digested.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Writer- a must?
Out of what does a writer write?
Out of hatred or perversion;
Out of denial or deprivation.
Why does a writer write?
To vent his anger or hatred.
To cry out from pain or lust.
How does a writer write?
By borrowing or distorting.
By modeling or duping.
For what does a writer write?
For an applause and a place.
It alone suits him, an idler.
What is the use of a writer?
For him to flaunt his skill.
For readers to idle away
Does the society need a writer?
Does a woman need cosmetics?
Writer is a part of civilization
16.05.2007.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Emphatically Expressed
A writer doesn't write to attract readers.
Maybe gossip columnists do.
To sell images and ruin a few.
But a writer who is true,
Writes because that is what writers do.
I wrote years before anything I wrote was read.
It wasn't to impress.
Those issues express about me,
Have long been put to rest in my head.
If something I write is read...
I hope a connection is made from what I've said.
Some also make claims they too like to write.
And I say to myself,
'Liking and loving are different appetites.'
No one who 'is' a writer takes it 'light'.
And those who feel this way...
May stay up night after night,
After many a sleepless night.
And it isn't for fame or money.
Trust me on that.
And I thank God what I do isn't done for the glory.
That's another story.
However,
When my contributions do become discovered...
It will be 'seen' there is some depthness meant.
Something within me that seems never to be solved.
Something with content I can not just dissolve.
And there is nothing to glorify,
When someone who writes for nourishment...
To feed others,
Do not think themselves to eat or drink.
Not when a thought comes to possess their minds,
With a desire to be completed.
Coming with a sensation one should heed.
And most of the time this is the writer's deed.
Whether the one who 'writes' gets a wink of sleep,
Or blinks.
And no matter if what is written is accepted,
Or thought to be rejected and stinks!
This kind of discipline...
Does not seek to reach for that attention!
Unless,
Money becomes mentioned.
And only then,
Of course...
What I have just emphatically expressed,
You have my permission to ignore.
Since my intention will take upon another direction,
To excite my need to explore...
With a more deepened Introspection.
I do write.
But biting into a good meal,
Intrigues!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Great writing is a submission to a creative force that seems to use the writer as an instrument. The writer finds that the words stream out, almost as if someone else were producing them. Writing becomes a process of discovery.
quote by S. O'Brien
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Young Letter Writer
Dear Sir, Dear Madam, or Dear Friend,
With ease are written at the top;
When those two happy words are penned,
A youthful writer oft will stop,
And bite his pen, and lift his eyes
As if he thinks to find in air
The wished-for following words, or tries
To fix his thoughts by fixëd stare.
But haply all in vain-the next
Two words may be so long before
They'll come, the writer, sore perplext,
Gives in despair the matter o'er;
And when maturer age he sees
With ready pen so swift inditing,
With envy he beholds the ease
Of long-accustomed letter-writing.
Courage, young friend; the time may be
When you attain maturer age,
Some young as you are now may see
You with like ease glide down a page.
Even then when you, to years a debtor,
In varied phrase your meanings wrap,
The welcomest words in all your letter
May be those two kind words at top.
poem by Charles Lamb
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Writer's Block in Prison
WRITER'S BLOCK IN PRISON
22 September 2004
Writer's block is a terrible thing
It stops you dead when you need it least
They say that when the time is right
The words will flow like wine at night.
But here I sit gazing out
at the trees and the grass and the flowers about
and the little red doors of the prison cells
and my thoughts go round and nothing comes out.
Ok, to work, tutor wants words -
An essay no less - but hasn't he heard
that essays are good but not all of us can
write just like that - maybe he can!
Tutor I think wants an essay in prose
But I am finding I cannot do those.
He'll have to accept this epistle I know
'cos that's all I'm doing
and he better accept it
'cos I ain't doing no more
the writer's block is back
and that's that.
poem by Dafyd Smith
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The Writer's Pen
Today is the writer's pen but,
Yesterday was the lying pens of the scribes!
Read it yourself in Jeremiah chapter eight verse eight;
Because, they've changed the laws.
What then do we expect to come out when tomorrow comes?
Most of our own writers today are afraid to tell the truth,
And they are blind leaders of the blind.
Of my imaginations,
Of my words,
Like a Doctor of letters to make the world go round;
They have prophesied but, i am fulfilling the message.
My mind is true,
My council is positive,
And i am the writer's pen with a vision on a mission;
They have written but, i am now telling the truth!
Like a locust that eats the grass.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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An African writer
I am an african writer
with the melodious lyric
flowing rivers of endless music
with words filled banks
of rhythmic juice
I am an african writer
the flower with the sweetest nectar
colourful juices of flowing oceans
oceans of endless streams
I am an african writer
dwelling by the shrine
in earnest worship to the gods of poetry
invoking my elders before me
warlord of the verbal war
I am an african writer
born with a pot of words
Caressed with the river of the niger
And burnt with the power of endless chatter
I am an african writer
With dead digits and ancient inks
Torn sheets with flee bugs
bestow to a journey of endless music
And beautiful heritage
I am an african writer!
Forged with letters and blood of lines
Strange eyes to a stories side
And rewarded with the gift of true sight!
poem by Venessa Ambrose
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Jewels
A pen that has been dipped in mud
Writes poems that loses meaning
Its message falls into a thud
A sad demise to the art of writing.
Like jewels that are badly stained
Smutty words abort its value,
Whatever beauty has been gained
Dissolves in verses that fall through.
A poem need not have verbal dirt
To catch a few hollow attention
Revealing true poetic worth
Gives it that genuine valuation.
A writer's poems are life jewels
Precious gems in verses of gold,
Of great value when written well-
Such a blessing to behold.
.......... ................................................. ......................
'Every man's work is always a portrait of himself.'
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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A Mirror Image
How many times when reading a book,
do we identify with the characters within?
Their traits they have we share,
their loves and heartaches
their lives go through somehow mirror our own.
It’s as if the author was writing about us.
As though he has put us under a microscope
and then writing down everything, he saw.
However, we know this isn’t so
because he or she has written
segments of their own life
and by accident they happen to mirror ours.
Every writer will tell you
that they have their characters under control.
Having written numerous novels,
I know the characters take on a life of their own
and do what they want to do.
We become their instrument as they guide us on our way.
We end up writing what they want us to say.
To every writer his characters are real,
they live, breathe and feel.
The more you write about them,
the more alive they become.
So the next time you pick up a book
and the characters seem real,
they probably are to the author
who looks after them.
24 September 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Well Crafted Word
Why am I so philosophical, a philosopher a long time ago once wrote.
The song writer, script writer, poet and novelist like to use a great quote.
Some poems are written with a catchy rhyme and a theme.
A well crafted word can help and be a great writers dream.
Everyone knows that the pen is mightier than the sword.
A well crafted word can give the reader great reward.
'A metaphor is just like a simile'; An unknown author once quoted.
It's true about all writers I know, they all hate their words being misquoted.
To writers one and all, a well crafted word is always a must to write down.
Just remember this about all writers, they can make great use of a pronoun.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
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Opportune Moment
Never ask me why I became a writer
because I couldn’t tell you why.
I just pick up a pen
and the words just flow again
off the top of my head.
I never planned to become a writer,
it just happened.
One day I picked up a pen
to doodle a bit
and the words came streaming out.
Now after over forty years
the words keep coming out.
I have no problem with that,
though there is times I wish
they’d pick a more opportune moment
when they are about to arrive.
2 April 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Writer's Author
GOD had written a story
in a book called 'destiny'
all things and even not-a-things are listed
and won't be missed
even Shakespeare could write the beautiful romeo n Juliet,
the story of Othello, Hamlet
or even he could made the beautifullest sonnet
GOD had written about all writer and poet
GOD is writer's author
March 2009
poem by Arif Furqan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A writer writes not because he is educated but because he is driven by the need to communicate. Behind the need to communicate is the need to share. Behind the need to share is the need to be understood. The writer wants to be understood much more than he wants to be respected or praised or even loved. And that perhaps, is what makes him different from others.
quote by Leo C. Rosten
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is Poetry
What is poetry more than words
Thought into existence by a writer.
What is life than a mystery unspurred
No explanation seeming any righter.
What is death than sad feelings blurred
Friends’ burdens becoming not lighter.
What is love than adoration preferred
A bond constantly growing ever tighter.
What is pain than good feelings deterred
Emotions never growing any brighter.
Poetry is so much more words
Reflecting emotions felt by a writer.
poem by Brandon McConnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What a Writer Has to Say
It baffles my understanding.
Why would one writer
Ask from another
To give an opinion of what has been created?
It baffles my understanding.
How separate experiences...
With no connection,
Can be thought related?
It baffles my understanding.
When a request is made...
To have another writer read,
And rate
What a writer has to say!
As if what is said...
Would change thoughts
In another's head.
Or expand a point of view.
Isn't that what readers often do...
When they wish to expand their insights too!
But when a writer writes...
Shouldn't those visions,
Be the ones writers pursue?
As narrow or as broad...
With an imagination left,
Unrestricted to cruise!
I am baffled by this...
'Read me, please!
And rate me', business...
Persisted and enlisted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lunch With a Poet
I had lunch with a poet, just the other day.
A poet who has written fine and lofty verse,
Conveying his experiences, emotions and his ideas, in
Vivid, imaginative ways, condensed in simple language,
Choosing words for sound and power,
Rather than impressing readers with poetic adulterations.
Almost apologetically, he said he uses 'nickel words'
To write his inner thoughts. It was as if he were at fault,
As though he thought those simple sounds
Had lessened the intent of his poetic worth.
I emphasized how wrong he was, and tried
To make clear, a poet writes in sympathy with his reader,
Overleaping the barriers of understanding by the simplicity
Of his language, and of his words.
To write with words of misty meaning does not make
A mystic.
To write with vulgar words does not lift up the poem
On wings of song, it only floats as high as the poet's
Commonality who, mistaking flatulence for inspiration, becomes
Enmeshed in a literary byproduct of the foulest of excretion and Smells.
My friend failed to intellectually understand,
But spiritually Accepts, as his writings reveal,
That clarity of thought and mind is the poet's
Highest point of the poet's integrity.
poem by Lynn W. Petty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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