Remembering Bukowski.... Hope This Is Nothing New To You
So You Want To Be A Writer?
if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.
don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
a sequel on charles bukowski's 'SO YOU WANT TO BE A WRITER?
he has his message clearly said: a writer is chosen
he does not have to move heaven and earth
to make a poem or write an essay
or finish a novel, for he is the
privileged soul
the chosen one
the prophet
the messiah
the secret prince
the hidden king
the divine incarnate
whatever
whoever
and words simply come to him like
a light from the sun
embracing him with so much inspiration
that he merely sits there by the throne of his porch
and simply listens to the dictated poem.
he says it is a burst inside your heart
an explosion inside your head
and you simply have to listen with your heart
and mind and soul
and there everything comes so easily
day by day and on and on and on
ad infinitum ad aeternum
there is no sweat
or hard work, there is no striving at all
to become the chosen one
for the inspiration
it comes even if uninvited
it perches on your chest like a bird and sings
it stays there until you die or it dies with you
there is no madness
or murderous intent or this lostness
they are not necessary
to be a writer one does not have to
stay for hours and write a piece and stare at the
screen of the computer and tire your eyes
with so much pressure
Is that so Charles? Did you not once believe
that Elvis Presley is nothing?
Did you not look for a job, or even try to find your lost self
for twenty years or so or even more?
There must be this irony.
And if that be so, I think i must believe you.
He does not bother at all, how can he be a poet?
Not you Charles, someone else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Four Main Types of Writers (personal opinion)
The Lonely Writer
Some writings tell me
This person is lonely
And is reaching out
For the touch of a friendly comment
These writers are sad, solitary,
Isolated, but good persons
And quite often very good writers
The needy juvenile writer
Some writings contain words
Or language meant to shock
And to offend.
These writers are lonely also
But in a different way.
These writers are simply saying
Like a little child
“hey! I exist! Someone better
Acknowledge me! ”
These writers can often write well
But usually don’t, can’t, or choose not to
The Spite Writer
This writer can be of either gender
But seems to be in a female majority
They’ve been spurned or rejected
Two-timed or lied to.
And they are going to vent their ire
In the most public way they can.
These writers can also be very good writers
But too often let their anger get in the way.
The Religious Writer
These writers show people passionate
And zealously devoted to singing the praises
Of the Lord and goodness and charity.
They’re probably austere, honest people
Who almost always write very well.
For the most part these writers seem
To want to spread the word and
At the same time tend to be rather singular
In the subject matter of their writings,
Rarely attempting other genres.
poem by David Whalen
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Most Writers
Most writers 'twould seem have moments of self doubt
But they never go short of things to write about
And to become a top writer of one a big ask
And to succeed as a writer for many seems too daunting a task.
Most writers do not write for wealth or for fame
And despite lack of success they pen on just the same
For every one hundred thousand writers perhaps one writing millionaire
Amongst the ranks of the wealthy the writers are rare.
Few writers can hope for to scale success height
For the love of writing they only do write
Few writers get published and fewer know of success
But in their writings on paper their thoughts they express.
Most writers will never know wealth and renown
And they are not even well known in their own Hometown
They never will be known beyond their home shore
They write for the love of it and little more.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Writer's Drought
You've heard of a thing called writer's block and you've heard of writer's drought
But writers are never short of things on which they can write about
It's just at times their inspiration well does seem to run dry
And they cannot seem to pen a line though hard enough they try.
The writers drought it causes writers moments of self doubt
Till the words that seem locked in them eventually flow out
Through their pens to their notebooks their dry spells do not last
And on time lost out on penning words they seem to catch up fast.
Some writers in their writing drought cannot seem to feel inspired
To write even a single line they feel mentally tired
But when fresh inspiration comes to them much better stuff they do write
And feeling re-invigorated they sit and pen all night.
Most writers you will talk to of writers drought can tell
When there is no inspiration in their inspiration well
But when inspiration returns to them and their creative juices flow
They become much better writers and in self confidence grow.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Love To Read
Is it a misconception,
That writers read...
Other writers' works?
Or reads extensively at all?
Afterall...
When would a true writer,
Find time to get that done...
If one has a love to read?
And...
I am not that one to say,
A reading AND a writing done...
Is an impossibility.
Because I read what I write often.
Regularly and on a daily basis.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Do it your way for Stephen Stirk
Sometimes the words that writers use
have different meanings and values.
For words don’t always mean the same
and common words don’t play the game.
Some words can mean their opposite
A writer must be explicit
selecting words in such a way.
Their meaning is as clear as day.
Avoiding in particular
the words that seem familiar
That sound the same when they are not.
Meanings can differ quite a lot
Like seams and seems or there and their.
A writer has to be aware
Simplicity is his finest tool
and that his readers as a rule
Are not concerned with the syntax
Your words should help them to relax
If they do not then you will fail
your efforts all to no avail.
Although your words are scholarly
perfectly composed grammatically.
Successful writers in the main
make sure they write to entertain.
They cater to the public taste
they haven’t got the time to waste
Writing works which won’t be read
That will not earn their daily bread.
Those who write professionally
research their market thoroughly.
The must be certain it will sell
and some of them do very well.
Amateurs, who post on the net
are not constrained they can forget
The publishers and critics views
and simply write the way they choose.
Though they won’t earn a single cent
it doesn’t matter, They’re content
with comments that their readers make.
They love to write for its own sake.
23/06/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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
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Faculty
Sometimes it seems so hard to work out the words,
and then again it seems not hard at all. Just write,
is as simple as that. There are times i can't seem to
work the words, other times the words come up
bubbling in my head with character and meaning.
At times i feel challenged by other writers, and i
begging to doubt my ability to work the words,
i simple read another writer and then i know i have
nothing to be worry about. I understand then that my
contest is with myself and not with other writers.
We all think about the same things, because once
in our life’s we all go through the same situations.
We all have the brain to create anything in our heads.
There’s nothing that i can't do if i focus and if i
don't focus; “you see” this word- focus is meaningful
in some ways, we need the focus, but in poetry we
need more the fantasy in our thoughts, the meaning
to our words, focusing can be important, but if your
head is not in the mood, there’s not going to be any
words bubbling up, even though you don’t need it so
much, because you can create a poem out of anything.
There’s one thing about writing, and reading poetry,
understanding the meaning behind the words.
Every word or phrase has a meaning behind, this is
where readers need to understand; for example-if i'm
drinking away my sorrows, it can mean, crying my
heart out, it can mean, i need to forget, it can mean,
a big hangover, it can mean, sleeping out in the porch,
it can mean, forgetting all you did last night; how many
things out of a phrase. Right know I would just like
to be in my cabin and sit right in front of the fire-place
with a bottle of wine and enjoy my pastoral life while
i write, amazing things.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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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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Inner Need
I had something strange happen to me.
Someone asked for a copy of my Easter sermon.
They said the words I spoke
made such of an impression on them.
They asked if they could have
a copy of it to keep.
Of course, I said it was no problem.
Sometimes we as writers
write things we cannot see,
that fill someone else’s world
with some inner need.
The words we write bring them something
we may have never thought about.
They bring some peace of mind
that they had been searching for.
They feel our words
are so relevant to them
that they have this need
to read those words
over and over again.
2 May 2009
poem by David Harris
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Impatience
How can I wait until you come to me?
The once fleet mornings linger by the way;
Their sunny smiles touched with malicious glee
At my unrest, they seem to pause, and play
Like truant children, while I sigh and say,
How can I wait?
How can I wait? Of old, the rapid hours
Refused to pause or loiter with me long;
But now they idly fill their hands with flowers,
And make no haste, but slowly stroll among
The summer blooms, not heeding my one song,
How can I wait?
How can I wait? The nights alone are kind;
They reach forth to a future day, and bring
Sweet dreams of you to people all my mind;
And time speeds by on light and airy wing.
I feast upon your face, I no more sing,
How can I wait?
How can I wait? The morning breaks the spell
A pitying night has flung upon my soul.
You are not near me, and I know full well
My heart has need of patience and control;
Before we meet, hours, days, and weeks must roll,
How can I wait?
How can I wait? Oh, Love, how can I wait
Until the sunlight f your eyes shall shine
Upon my world that seems so desolate?
Until your hand-clasp warms my blood like wine;
Until you come again, oh, Love of mine,
How can I wait?
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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At Home With My Writing
how often do i have to read
other people's work hoping that i may soon hone mine
and get
the admiration of other writers?
that is a long time ago and i guess
i have changed
whether admired or not we are all writers in our own ways
it is just a matter of self-expression
a way of telling those who will be left here that once we were here and we have written a lot, a legacy in words, that we are the ideas of our own time,
and time perhaps is glad about it
how we wrote and what we wrote for and whom
it's perfectly nice living life at your own pace
saying the words you want to say and leaving everything for the rest to see and judge
so to say, i am finally at home with my own words and style.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There is no secret to success except hard work and getting something indefinable which we call 'the breaks.' In order for a writer to succeed, I suggest three things - read and write - and wait.
quote by Countee Cullen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Writer's Dream
A writer's dream
You keep trying
Never denying to one day achieve
Despite what most believe
A writer's dream
You never give up
Regardless of what others may say
But wait patiently until that day
A writer's dream
Although it's been a while
It made you smile
To see your dream coming through
No matter how long it seemed to you
A writer's dream
You always believed in yourself
That's why your time has come
To be a successful writer
With the privilege of making much income
A writer's dream
You're happy to finally get this far
The world knows just who you are
Now this new sudden fame
Makes you feel like a star
poem by Donielle Smith
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Because She Allowed It She Was Destroyed
one summer she attended a poetry workshop
upon invitation of some writers
and wannabes like her
her name is poetess
modest
shy
truthtful to every word chosen by her
in the poem that she chooses to
read before them
these writers listening to her
after which
the chopping begins, the stabbing knife, the slices of her self
the sharp teeth biting her to pieces
the slapping criticisms of her works
her poems her life
she was bleeding to death
they have no inkling to save her
she shrinks
like some sundried raisin
she shatters like some broken glass
she shuts up
she runs away and throws all her poems to the trash can
she is ugly she is a witch
since then she never wrote again
because of them
these writers ahead of her
she was the object of their ridicule
she was utterly destroyed
because she allowed it
she had known better
that one should write
because one must write
not for anybody else
but for oneself alone
one need not even win
or excel
one only needs to write
because you love to write
because you must
survive this love of your life
your poetry, now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shes Back.....
I cant wait till death has comes
in this dark evening
i cut a vein, my razor sharp as ever
i cant wait for death to come
alone in this world
should i write my suicide note?
but no, no one will read it
i am just a person not special
my life is nothing
i cat wait to die
besides who will stop me
i am nothing
i slit my wrist
as these tears come
i am back to my old self
i thought there was no love for me and
now you have proven me love cause more
pain in life, that love a second form of suicide.....
poem by Aurora Lockwood
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The Truth can Hurt
The truth can hurt
Some writers write infrequently
and others write prolifically.
What matters is the quality
much more so than the quantity.
Good writers by their words display
their thoughts in a coherent way
Describing things they have observed
and garner praise that’s well deserved.
But some think anything will do
and they pay no attention to
the rules successful writers use
they will not learn: point blank refuse
to accept well meant critique.
They much prefer dishonest praise
from so called friends afraid
to speak the simple truth lest they dismay
their friend by speaking honestly.
So naturally they take offence
when other people criticise
that which seems perfect in their eyes.
True writers take this in their stride
they know their work is not perfect.
But what they know is they have tried
and that is all you can expect.
New writers lack experience
but everyone must start some where.
The wise ones do not take offence
when other people show they care
enough to offer some advice.
Because they can remember when
they too were just a new novice
to painting pictures with their pen.
27 feb 08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I'm Not In Love (Club Mix)
I'm not in love
So don't forget it
It's just a silly phase
I'm going through
And just because
I call you up
Don't get me wrong
And think you've gotten me
I'm not in love, no no
I'd like to see you
But again
It doesn't mean
You mean that much to me
So if I call you
Don't make a fuss
Don't tell your friends
About the two of us
I'm not in love, no no
I keep your picture
Up on the wall
It hides a nasty stain
That's lyin' there
So don't you ask me
To give it back
I know you know
It doesn't mean
That much to me
I'm not in love, no no
Ooh, you wait a long time for me
Ooh, you wait a long time
Ooh, you wait a long time for me
Ooh, you wait a long time
I'm not in love
So don't forget it
It's just a silly phase
I'm goin' through
And just because
I call you up
Don't get me wrong
And think you've gotten me
I'm not in love
I'm not in love
song performed by by Olive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Die Alone
To Die Alone
Sometimes I sit and wander,
While other times I walk and ponder
As I realize; the situation that I am in.
I have a wife whom doesn't love me,
And a job that wont set me free
While they both, just get under my skin.
I have bills coming to the door
And the house is always at a roar
And no one cares the times I am there.
When I am asleep, I cannot sleep
And I am told a man cannot weep
As for me, does anyone truly care.
So here I am with my face in my hand
My life I cannot truly understand
So here I am again, always all by myself.
I cannot fight a fight, I cannot win
As I know it will cause hate and so much sin
So I Live in my own, man made Hell.
I am nervous now though this life
And what can I say, but I lost my pride
So here I am, a man without a soul.
I always stay quite as a mouse
Apologies is all that comes from my mouth
My life is full of sadness and its woe.
Now my dreaming, is what I do best
And when I can I hide or I can rest
I seem to hate, today and even tomorrow.
So when I say my prayers at night
I will always pray for my soul and my wife
And I try to forget the rest of my sorrow.
But then I think the same old thought
After the many battles that I have fought
As I know someday peace will enter my home
But till that time I will sit and I will wait
As from that battle I cannot escape
Until then, I just hope to die alone.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Hes A Go Getter
Hes a go getter, go getter
When his wife gets off from work, hell go get her
Now Ive got a neighbor that lives down the road a ways
His wife holds down a steady job, he dont turn his hand all day
I know that most of you will know the kind Im talkin about
The kind that rather than have to work, hed rather do without
But hes a go getter, a go getter
When his wife gets off from work, hell go get her
Theres a group of men in the court house yard any time that you go by
Playin checkers and tradin odds and makin jokes about their wives
They wait all week for pay day and they hold the moneys plenty
And the wife thats worked those long hard hours never gets a penny
But hes a go getter, a go getter
When his wife gets off from work, hell go get her
Yes hes a go getter, a go getter
When his wife gets off from work, hell go get her
Hes a go getter, a go getter
When his wife gets off from work, hell go get her
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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