Related quotes: dread is such a nice...

Dread

dread is such a
nice word upon the
mouth of someone
whose life depends
on the mere signing
of a pen and upon
a stroke his life
vanishes away
upon a mere scratch
of a signature
dread is such a word
that i write only on paper
because saying it
makes you panicky
i dread to do this
but sooner a name
is written on paper
by you my Master

if you must today
please write my nickname
sort of final affection.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paper And Pen

Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
Paper and pen

Can’t think of anything to say today
Can’t think of anything to do
Can’t think of anything to play today
Minds gone blank
Leaving me here, just sitting here
Listening to my hair grow

Paper and pen
Paper and pen

And I look towards you
For an inspiration or a word or two
I try but I find
Every road only leads me back to these lines

Paper and pen
Paper and pen

Paper and pen
Piano, guitar
I try but don't get very far
Paper and pen
Piano, guitar

Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
Paper and pen

poem by Colin Coplin
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Teakbois

@song: the life and times of bobby dread
(anderson / howe / wakeman / bruford)
Jump out this next world
Is gone overground
That sky is ecstasy dancin
My child my woman
My daughter my son
Together planning to party
Just wait for me
Out in the street
Teakbois in everywhere
Dancing with you
Were coming thru
Somehow well all be there
This time is surely
Come once and for all
Weve waited so now
We are ready
Be quick be ready
Be sure and be smart
No need the energy wasted
Ive dreamed of music
That comes from the heart
As tho the eagle has landed
Just wait for me
Out in the street
Teakbois is everywhere
Dancing with you
Were coming thru
Everyone will be there
She smiles my mind
Is just blown I cant stop
No time is better than now
I wake up everyday
Before the sun is coming up
Bobby dread and the kool running
The fish to catch
The sea to swim
They say I gotta life
To live
Bobby dread and the kool running
My music is my only witness
To my very soul
Bobby dread and the kool running
So when you need me
All you have to do is help me
Lose control
Bobby dread and the kool running
They say the worlds a stage
So let me play for you and you and you
Bobby dread and the kool running
Its all I ever in my life
I really wanted
To sing and do
Bobby dread and the kool running
We form a group a simple name
A secret harmony like
Bobby dread and the kool running
We write our songs
We symphonise
Some people say they like us
Bobby dread and the kool running
This summer you couldnt get it

song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teakbois

song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Poet, Write Well

- Young poet write
Of the harshness of life, the angst, the melancholy and disappointments
But use care with hate,
For if too much is spilled on paper,
Soon it becomes your own human trait:

There's many a page
Filled with a poets rage,
While words fresh and fair
Are so utterly rare -
Thus the true poetic mind
Must stretch to find
Grace, Beauty and Serenity
In phrases bound for infinity -
Our souls are poems
That forever live on and on,
So write them well
With the fire of love always burning brighter
than the dread bitterness of hell.

poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A sensual scribble

I was the scribe who woke up at dawn
Finding a clean sheet of paper
And this glossy sort of ballpoint pen
Having the urge to write
Something sensual
My fingers spread the paper
On this table
Where there is so much disorder
Some paper clips and
Floppy discs scattered
Scotch tapes and mail openers
And some still unopened mails
That I did not mind
Not my priority

I was into something sensual
On this clean sheet of paper
On an urge to write
Grabbed this glossy sort of ballpoint pen
And start scribbling
Some lovely head notes
“My dear darling”
Careful strokes in curves
Sliding on paper
My fingers are wildly
Caressing to the shapes of
Sensual letters and words
And breathtaking sentences

“You know that you make me
Hot and you make me wild
And I always remember you”

And I am at the middle
Of so much longing
Using such letters

U and I
And w and e

Lots of ohs and ahs

And s and e and x
L and o and v and e

To make sense
Without pretense

Some exclamations
And pauses of commas and
Semicolons spread on some
Corners of this paper
With so much
Unstoppable anticipation

Somewhere in the center
I pierced this paper
With this glossy ballpoint pen
Writing something
Emphatic
Clinching
And I was at the height
Of my desiring and
So much liking
Something ecstatic
And calming
At the end

It was a beautiful piece
Of a scribble
Written at dawn

And I wrote at the end part there
“With all my love I remain
Your faithful slave”

And a postscript at the tip
Of my tongue
Written with a nip

“When will I see you again? ”

The letter shall be mailed at once
She will understand that pierce
Somewhere at the center something
That was ecstatic and she will remember
Every letter every word was an ember embedded.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I want to write

I want to write, something nice, but nothing comes to mind. Today words are unkind and will not come out from where they normally hide.

Today I want to write, write something nice, and make someone smile, to look forward to a lovely day and an even more an exciting night.

Words of the powerful mind, tell me where you hide, where in the world can I find, find you to create a masterpiece, burn paper with ink, write till I no more blink, as you take me to a place of so many tears, peaceful sleeps, sorrow, happiness, and enchanted dreams…

I want to write, something nice, but nothing comes to mind. Words have deserted me, why are they so unkind and will not come out from where they normally hide…

poem by Thato Maluleka
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Word Of Mouth

Ive been trying to get a message to you,
But the operator cant put me through,
Because the vandals went and wrecked all the telephones.
And all my enemies are spreading bad news,
You wont call me, thats why Im calling you,
To put you straight about the rumors theyre spreading about me back home.
I should have known, sooner or later,
Youd get the news, sooner or later,
The word of mouth will get right back to you.
Somehow we lost communication,
My only chance in my situation,
Is that the word of mouth gets my message through.
The word of mouth,
The word of mouth,
But who are they to say the things they do?
The word of mouth says that Ive gone insane,
That wine and women have affected my brain.
Well whos the big mouth spreading the news again?
The word of mouth says Im round the bend,
Its all over, this is the end.
Exaggeration sure gets the better of people who send[? ].
The word of mouth,
The word of mouth,
But who are they to say the things they do?
The word of mouth said I should be put in my place.
The word is out Im in disgrace -- a waste of space.
But if they say it, say it to my face.
People talking, trying to dig up the dirt,
There are so many lies around.
They spread their gossip and the rumors around this town.
Word of mouth, face to face,
My word of mouth has stated my case,
And Im saying Im coming back home to you.
You should have know sooner or later,
Youd get the news sooner or later,
The word of mouth will get right back to you.
The word of mouth,
Shut your mouth,
Shut your face!

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In dread fear of sentimentality, another thing true is not said-that for its staff the paper is a source of pride and, I do believe, an object of affection and-yes, love.

quote by Arthur Ochs Sulzberger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This word...

This word is life,
this word is love,
this word is peace and this word makes you live it needs no complications.

So this is a word.
A word thats happines that word that lifts you up
its a word thats against all bad its a word that needs no piracy.

Its forgiving after you corrupted the word
this word is easy to call easy to spell easy to use easy to write even a dumbest pesom will spell it. Its useful
its artistic and intelligent

this
this
this word is powerful
make use of it
for it never turns its back on its word...

poem by Ernest Makuakua
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Me

Ask me how I'm doing? 'Very good I say '
My life is good, bad memories I try and keep away
I write as therapy to get me through
All the pain from the past, when I was blue
I write alot of things, about my life
I write about things that brought me strife
I am constantly thinking what to write about
Sometimes I write so I have no need to shout
Sometimes I write straight from my heart
Maybe helping others to get a brand new start
Alot of time depression comes sneaking in
And that's when I get out my paper and pen
I look around me and will always see
That there are those that had it worse than me
I write as a hobby because I enjoy it so
It makes all the bad things have to go
I'm not usually sad by any means
Sometimes insecure, thats from my genes
I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me
My life is good and I'm finally free
So if this explains me a little bit
I think this poem I will submit!

poem by Donna Nimmo
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Call Me Idiot

a word from you,
and i will remember it,
on this
elephantine memory,

idiot, you call me idiot,
and i shall retort for once
but not twice, not anymore
shall i become
another image of you,
i dread.

i will not call you moron,
but i shall be in my room again
alone
on an array of oxymora

talking to the drapes and the drawers
burying all these
humiliations, and putting a stop
to my fears,
i will see the dancing chairs
and hug the lovely pillows,
hide beneath my blankets,

i promise myself, i will have a nice sleep
and inside my dream

i shall write the most beautiful poem in my life.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whispers In The Wind [How I Write]

The words I write
Are just whispers in the wind
Coming home to greet me
Like an old friend
Swirling around in my head
Waiting to be set free
From my mind to my fingertips
On paper they must be
Written down before they're gone
Oh Lord how can this be
Word by word they hit the page
In an order I do not know
But once all are written
They are where they all should go
Telling a story in magnificent words that
Jesus whispers to me

poem by David Kush
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Once Again I Write...

This pen, this paper is once again my savior.
I write to save my sanity.
I write to ease my heart.
I write to cleanse my soul.
I write to feel alive.
I write to keep my mind strong and my thoughts clear.
I write my words of sorrow, despair, pain, and love, as well as words of wisdom.
I write so that one day someone will truly know me.
This paper, this pen is once again my inspiration.
It is the inspiration to what I see.
It is the inspiration to what I hear.
It is the inspiration to what I feel.
It is the inspiration to the art I create.
It is the inspiration to what I draw.
It is the inspiration to the love for my daughter.
It is the inspiration to the love for my husband.
This pen, this paper is once again my savior.
Once again I write to say thank you my timeless friends.
Thank you for saving me time and time again.

poem by Sara Jo Andrews
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Rainbow Man

Life turns
Time changes
Lost dreams
Moon changes
Now bush
Now city
Eora home
No city
Irish loss
Same dream
Vinegar hill
No rhyme
See the judas man in red
All live in rainbows dread
Write out
No call
No home
No all
Eyes wide
No steed
Feel dread
No creed
Rainbow man
Eyes cool
No hurt
No fool
Dead!

song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Petition Scribe

the petı tı on scribe...my dear neı ghbour
ı s the paper on your type-writer blank
wrı te my worrı es and complaı nts word by word and scatter
look....what has happened to me

the worrı es and complaints of someone and another
you scribe from morning till evening
without wearying
how much is your daily gain
how many pennies in your hands and in your palms

first let us write yourself and yours
before the ribbon wears away
after yours finished and complete
ı will tel you mine slowly and slowly

my tonque is on your eyes
ı f you ask something ı will answer orally
my petition does not need any stamp
why stamp and signature on worries and complaints

the paper is a waste
for my worries and troubles papers are insuffı cant
ı envy you..the petition scribe..my dear neighbour
ı would like to be a petition scribe just like you
in this world
and in the other world
for this there is no word
be assure
ı am for sure

Osman ATILLA translatı on Metin Ş AHİ N

poem by Metin Sahin
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And then the paper is dirty

You start with a clean sheet of paper
Write some words, scribble, draw some lines
Some curves, sharp lines, tangent to bold
Lines, and rough sketches of faces and
Bodies, thin lines that get crooked from
End to end of this limited space,
You doodle, you get wild with so
Many lines unimaginable, senseless,
The paper finally looks dirty,
And you do not like it, you crumple
It and throw it in a waste basket,

You get another clean sheet,
And this time, you think what is
It really that you want to make
Out of this new clean sheet of paper.

You think, you ponder, and you need
More time this time not to waste
This clean, glossy sheet of paper.

I think you are doing well with your life.
You see you are supposed to be careful

Every word is delicate and every paper
Is actually accounted.

Never mind guilt, set it aside for a while.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Chronicles of A Criss Crossed and Broken Heart part 4 Poem after Poem

some written as medicine
some poems inveigh about consequence of sin
some don't rhyme
some i just don't have time
others negelected, just left to waste
away, like butter spread over too much bread making strange paste
i just write and write
to keep feelings to let them out without explosion
i just have to fight
myself, write myself all on a paper, hear implosion
going, going, coming to an end slow motion
not enough life to pass by
by through my eyes too much life withheld
i hope i havent begun to die
not yet not here...

poem by David Knox
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When The Pen Sits Beside A Paper Doing Nothing

there is this time of the day
when you sit and stare and think about nothing
and so the pen merely places itself idly
on the table beside a paper
bland and blank

there is this emptiness that does not even speak for itself
you cannot write it
you cannot also write it off away from you
no one speaks there
except your thoughts

somehow you want to remember love
it smiles at you
and then you spell the word regret

always, and as usual,
it comes late, makes you chew a memory
it is bitter
and of course, like what they do, you spit it out.

to where it lands, a beautiful flower grows

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vellum

I write my name down on paper
paper that has a unrealistic desire
to be vellum

I read what I have written
for a sense of authenticity
more authentic than my image
reflected in a mirror stained with mildew
and toothpaste

The words on this paper
anyone can read
bums, whores, addicts,
homosexuals
intellectuals
and the broken old men
whose hope died
in the past

I write
but I don't speak
what I write
details what I see

The things I see
O, the things I see
could invoke suicidal tendencies
in a child who still believes
in Christmas carols
and hunting Moby Dick
whom rules the seas

How tragic it is
to let fleeting imagination
slowly die among the magic spelling
of the words we once spoke
on Christmas Eve

And now I sit
with the adulterated gift
of alcohol
and nicotine
writing down words on paper
whom wish to be vellum
but realistically
could never be

poem by Justin Tallman Gonzalez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

Dread

Related quotes

Paper And Pen

Teakbois

Teakbois

Why Do I Write

Poet, Write Well

A sensual scribble

I want to write

Word Of Mouth

This word...

Me

Call Me Idiot

Whispers In The Wind [How I Write]

Once Again I Write...

Rainbow Man

The Petition Scribe

And then the paper is dirty

The Chronicles of A Criss Crossed and Broken Heart part 4 Poem after Poem

When The Pen Sits Beside A Paper Doing Nothing

Vellum

En.Citatepedia^®.ro