Once The Idea Comes To My Mind
i may find a pen and make a note in any of those
papera in my pocket anticipating such a situation
of radiance
without light at all
i may have captured the new idea
on paper
in writing, so it may not escape and slip like an eel
like a droplet of water
on my raincoat from my head,
but sometimes, i am too lazy to listen and
impatient to write what comes to me
as a gift
and i let it go, let is slip in my tongue like a spit
a phlegm
after all, it may not be important, so important that i may soon die
if i forget it
or the world stops spinning
or this whole world ends,
there is no such an idea,
there is no such person even, so indispensable, so important
there is no such line
no such poem, everything here is always something throwable
into some trashcans
sometimes, i have them inside myself, and then
without so much regret
i vomit,
who cares anyway?
oh well, nobody, except the critics who are there
always to kill your urge
to write poetry, who are always there to compare you to someone
deserving
the laurels of despair, the crown of literary gall
the thorns of misery
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Arrested By You
(rupert hine / jeannette obstoj)
What is this strange elation?
Taking my train of thought to an unknown destination
And suddenly I dont know where I am
But like a tremor or a spark
Somethings happening in my heart
Ive been arrested by you
Take me in, oh, oh, oh
Finally captured by you, by you and by you
Take me in
Ive been arrested by you
Take me in, oh, oh, oh
Finally captured by you, by you and by you
Take me in
Youve broken my concentration
Saving me just in time from a desperate situation
And suddenly, I dont know who I am
But my dilemmas where to start
Somethings happening in my heart
Ive been arrested by you
Take me in, oh, oh, oh
Finally captured by you, by you and by you
Take me in
Ive been arrested by you
Take me in, oh, oh, oh
Finally captured by you, by you and by you
Take me in
Ive been arrested by you
Take me in, oh, oh, oh
Finally captured by you, by you and by you
Take me in
Ive been arrested by you
Take me in, oh
Finally captured by you, oh, oh
Take me in
Ive been captured, captured, captured, captured
Oh, baby
Oh, ho,
Take me baby
Oh, oh, oh, oh
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paper Flowers
You seem like a girl who likes to tell her bed is made
You seem like a girl who likes to wear her pearls
Well Im not the type who likes to dwell,
Save my money or kiss and tell, yeah
Oh why does she water them, paper flowers?
This girl walks up so graciously,
Slips something in my pocket so secretly,
I said: honey, whats this you gave to me?
Oh nothing, water, wait and see
I said: paper flowers, they cant grow!
Just giveem water and let me know,
Giveem water and let me know, giveem water
And let me know
Oh why does she water them, paper flowers?
Paper flowers...
Oh why does she water them, paper flowers?
Paper flowers...
Shes dressed in black as you can see,
She tries so damn hard to be the enemy,
Shes got big black boots, get outta her way,
She wants to kick tomorrow, punch yesterday,
Kick tomorrow, punch yesterday
Oh why does she water them, paper flowers?
Paper flowers...
Turn a light on, turn a different light on
Turn a light on, turn a different light on now
Turn a light on, turn a different light on
Turn a light on, turn a different light on now!
Oh why does she water them, paper flowers?
Paper flowers...
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writing (ii)
They look bright
As light falls upon them
They seem statesmen too
As they talk incessant
Let them use pen and paper
They will uncover their
Cleverness of hiding power
Writing is a fight between
The Powers of dark and light
The Difference between an elephant
And an ant.
Writing is the impressive enormity
Among the works of tiny trivialities
Writing is a question asked to realise
The blunt indifference
Writing is like putting the sun
At the centre of life.
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Magic Of A Poem
I haven't written for ages
And now I'm feeling blue
It is for this reason, pen to paper
That I am returning to you.
Your memories make me smile
Some make me cry
But the magic of writing
Helps me to survive
As I note down my dreams
My fears and hopes
One of which I hope, this magic never stops.
poem by Innocent Once
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Captured
(e lewis)
Easier said than done
I should have known that the best was yet to come
As the object of my affection
Would I dare confess to you?
Fantasies that haunt me
Dreams of how our passions could be set free
Magic nights wed share
I never knew youd care
Quite like you said you did
You captured my heart
How many times did I try to say
It will be easier just to walk away
But at the mercy of my obsession
Didnt dare confess to you
How I long for you to want me
To my fantasies you hold the key
Passions that wed share
I never knew youd care quite like you said you did
You captured my heart
You dazzled me blind
Oh were flying high
A perfect love to find
You captured my heart
Oh please say you want to stay with me forever
How I long to kiss your lovely face, pretty baby
Every night you haunt my dreams
Theres no need to fantasize, youre here with me
Since I captured your heart
Captured captured my heart
Captured my heart
Captured captured my heart
Captured my heart
Captured captured my heart
Captured my heart
Captured captured my heart
Captured my heart
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why I write
I used to feel, like a pain is in my heart.
When without saying a word, u depart
Here I m alone, remembering our memories
Had so much left to tell you my life stories.
As an alternative of you I started talking to myself
Not that good idea but still it was little relief
Not for long that idea worked, if It was too much miss of your.
Thought of writing my felling so I took a pen and paper.
Started writing stories n poems about my felling
And things that I had always thought of telling.
I feel I m near to you and with you I m talking
That's why I write. Even if my writings are not good and boring..
poem by Sushanta Rokka
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And So I'm Writing...
I'm hard-pressed for time,
yet I do have the heart
And so I'm writing
Know not what to pen down,
have a paper to write on
And so I'm writing
May be I'll write about 'you and me'
Or may be of 'us and them'
Feel like playing with words
And so I'm writing
May be that starving beggar's hungry looks
Or that homeless Child's beckoning eyes
Are making me scribble these lines to you
And so I'm writing
May be you'll find my words vague
Or you might decipher a meaning
Intend to leave you in the oblivion
And so I'm writing
Whatever might be the impression I create
Wish to see its reflection on your soul
And leave an imprint on your mind
And so I'm writing
May be you and I've become immune
To the pathos of mankind
Or may be there's still
A dropp of humanity flowing deep within us
Wish to arouse 'The Human Being' in you
And so I'm writing...
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Paper Ship
In the summer of my childhood,
I used to go down to the sea
and sail my paper ship
on each incoming wave.
Often I thought of sailing the sea
its lure always captured me
sailing my paper ship
into the sunset with just my love and I.
To find some deserted isle
where everything in tranquillity lay
leaving all the worries of life
for someone else’s mind.
Oh now those days are gone
and my children have taken my place
to sail their paper ships
to the places in my dreams.
20 February 2011
poem by David Harris
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Moving round
The world is the paper
The sea is the ink
And I'm the sea
Full of thought
And emotion
And writing poems
On the paper-world.
The tree the bird
The cloud the air
The light the earth
Are ingredients of poems
I'm writing the poem
My poem moving round
The life's circle
You are to read and read.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Writing The Words
I’m writing this at your funeral.
As I watch all the people in tears.
I wish I could join them,
But I know I have to be strong.
I’m writing this on my hand,
No paper to get it down on.
I want to remember your funeral,
So I’m writing this to honour you.
I’m writing the thoughts that pop into my head,
Making sure they are only the best.
I have to remember,
Because I couldn’t live with myself if I ever forgot.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
As people dropp flowers onto your coffin.
I stand up to dropp my own,
Blue, unlike the others, because I know it’s your favourite.
I’m writing this through the ceremony,
Because if I listen to the words I’ll cry.
And I know I can’t, for you,
I have to keep it together.
I’m writing the words I want to say,
To make people remember how much love you gave.
Because I want them to know,
How much of it you gave to me.
So, I’m writing this at your funeral,
To stop myself from shedding a tear.
I’m writing this at your funeral,
So that I never ever forget you.
poem by Rachel Brewer
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An Idea
An Idea can change the world, how many
things can be done from an idea, every piece
of object was an idea, sense the beginning of
time idea was the first thought created in the
mind, an idea is what surround’s every being.
But an idea is still only an idea and it can't be
felt, you cannot touch an idea or kiss it, or hold it,
ideas do not bleed or feel pain or love, an idea
cannot be seen or heard, its created in our thoughts,
but then again an idea can become real. An idea
can be what ever you which it to be, an idea can
be destructive, an idea can be brilliant, I've seen
people get killed in the name of ideas, ideas,
we walk around with a little
light bulb blinking in our thoughts, ideas.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Pocket fairytales....a trilogy
A Pocket Fairytale
He sat in a white van
with no working handbrake,
similar to his temper, with no stopper.
He'd no tax and no money.
What he'd salvaged from life
was an old mattress,
a few old clothes, a fancy chair
and a pot plant.
The door to her house
was bolted, several times
just like the seven chances she'd given him
and the neighbours curtains were twitching.
There was oil leaking from the engine
just like his bleeding heart
and the rear light didn't work
similar to his brain.
His belly grumbled,
he was needy,
and his mouth was dry with fright
although his shoes were polished.
He dug into his back pocket
and found a crumpled piece
of paper with a note
inscribed.
"Some money's in
your other pocket.
I thought you might need some.
Be safe." ……..and he wept.
So you see, sometimes fairytales
do come true and this
is a pocket fairytale
Missed pocket.
David pulled brightly coloured silk from his pocket,
more and more he pulled
blues and yellows and pinks and greens.
David pulled doves from his pocket,
beautiful white feathered doves
and they flew, high.
He did rope tricks, tricks with mirrors,
he conjured flowers
and rabbits from hats.
David pulled me from his pocket.
I danced like a nymph in his hand
I leapt for joy!
Then David slipped,
his wand sparked out
I fell, missing his pocket …………and disappeared.
Pocket watch.
I'm watching a man in the station waiting room,
he has a pocket watch and every now and then he checks it.
It looks as though it's made of bright silver and it shines
like something from the past, mysterious and old.
He has a wonderful moustache, curled at the edges
and seems to be late for something.
He notices me staring at him and as I turn away he
changes into a white rabbit and catches the next train.
"Wake up dear, wake up" mother nudges me.
"We get off at the next stop". I yawn and try to wake up.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Paper Lies
(music: marillion lyrics: steve hogarth & john helmer)
When you look into the mirror
Do you see a face you hardly recognise
If you look into the sun too long
Do the things you see begin to burn your eyes
Paper lies
Just to express what hes thinking
Must a man take all the mail will bring?
Are we living only for today
Its a sign of the times ... we believe anything ... and nothing
Paper lies
When you kill the truth
You can make a killing
You might just make losing look like winning
You came to tell the people whats goin on
But nobody knows whose side youre on
Seems like youre sailin pretty close to the wind again
Paper lies
You have already won a prize!
I know something that you dont know
Something that you ought to know
Its burning a hole in my pocket book
Listen ... do you want to know a secret?
We can print our own money here
If you let us do a piece on you
We can take you to pieces
When you look into the money do you see a face you hardly recognise?
When you get behind the news of the world do the things you find begin to bend your mind?
Paper lies
Why dont ya let us take a piece outta you?
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I believe that all other political states are in fact variations or outgrowths of a basic state of anarchy; after all, when you mention the idea of anarchy to most people they will tell you what a bad idea it is because the biggest gang would just take over. Which is pretty much how I see contemporary society. We live in a badly developed anarchist situation in which the biggest gang has taken over and have declared that it is not an anarchist situation— that it is a capitalist or a communist situation. But I tend to think that anarchy is the most natural form of politics for a human being to actually practice.
quote by Alan Moore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Paper
Hold the paper up to the light
(some rays pass right through)
Expose yourself out there for a minute
(some rays pass right through)
Take a little rest when the rays pass through
Take a little time off when the rays pass through
Go ahead and mis it up...go ahead and tie it up
In a long distance telephone call
Hold on to that paper
Hold on to that paper
Hold on becuase its been taken care of
Hold on to that paper
See if you can fit it on the paper
See if you can get it on the paper
See if you can fit it on the paper
See if you can get it on the paper
Had a love affair but it was only paper
(some rays they pass right through)
Had a lot of fun, could have been a lot better
(some rays they pass right through)
Take a little consideration, take every combination
Take a few weeks off, make it tighter, tighter
But it was never, it was never written down
Still might be a chance that it might work out (if you)
Hold on to that paper
Hold on to that paper
Hold on because itll be taken care of
Hold on to that paper
Dont think I can fit it on the paper
Dont think I can get it on the paper
Go ahead and rip up, rip up the paper
Go ahead and tear up, tear up the paper
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paper And Pen
Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
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
Copyright Colin Coplin 1985 / 2010
poem by Colin Coplin
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An Old Flame
The writing faded on the page
The paper yellowing with age
An age of innocence then died
The blurring marks where once i cried
The memories flow back to me
Why did she ever have to leave?
The writing fading from the page
The sadness now becomes of age
The paper's corner now a flame
I shall not see those words again.
poem by David Keig
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Scribbled Notes
I've taken to writing down things
just so as I can remember
little notes and comments
taken throughout the day
it must be something to do with age
the pocket sized book, lined
and the blue ball point pen
I'd show you if only I could remember
quite where I've have left it
thinking on, what I should have done
is made a note of where I left it
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Just a Few Things I Don't Like About Writing Poetry
Why do some of my best ideas
Wake me out of a sound sleep
At 2: 06 somtimes 3: 28 AM
Damn green digital numbers
Then I can't find
My beside notebook until
I bump into something
That wakes my wife
By the time I've assured her
There has not been
An attempted break-in
Found the notebook where's the pen
Finally quiet as I can
Get to the bathroom
Turn on the light
Get comfortably seatd
I am sure I have
Forgotten most of the good parts
The ones that remain make little sense
Now that I am fully awake
Another thing
Why is most of the heavy lifting
Done at my end of the process
If you don't think so
You're not the one
Who carries my full wastebasket
Of drafts to our blue recycling can
It's only the paper worth saving
Not what's on them I assure you
Fridays that blue sucker
Has to be rolled to the curb
Later I hear the automated arms
Of the truck straining to lift
Some of my best first tries
As they are unceremoniously
Carted away to be recycled
For someone else's next attempts
(Note to self: Learn to write and revise
Live on the computer
'Do not save' will save trips
To the unvirtual garbage can
I'll find other ways
To get my exercise
Gathering material
To write about
As long as I can get
Enough rest before
Another great idea
Rudely wakes me up)
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Suicide
The paper called it suicide
A bullet from a forty-five
Nobody cared and nobody cried
Dont that make you feel sad?
Peter brent combed his hair
And sent for the police
Policeman came, took peters name
God, may he rest in peace
No one saw the note beside the body
No one knew the problems
But my god
Suicide
The body remains unidentified
Forgotten in a file
Like the letter that was blown aside
Dont that make you want to smile?
No one was really satisfied
About number eighty-one
The autopsy proved that peter lied
But they never could find the gun
No one saw the note beside the body
No one knew the problems
But my god
Suicide
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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