En.Citatepedia^®.ro

That Stage Of Denial....

i do not wish to write about pain,
an artist has to clean the mess and write instead
about

happiness, but it is not here and what is here instead
insistent and forceful is

pain, but i refuse to give in to its demands to inflict
pain to my words,

i smile,
i offer silence,
i like to hear the falling of the pin
on that carpeted
floor,

i hear it,
i walk away, i dabble in all that the trees are singing
on a rainy day,

i do not wish to write about your pain,
i do not feel it somehow,

i feel mine, but what is the use of recognizing the one that hurts you
and destroys you

for when, until when,
i choose now,

i shall write about a landscape of green grass, where trees are tall and huge, where plains travel infinitely into space

where seas are calm where fish sleeps comfortably on the seaweeds
and corals,

where butterflies flutter like shreds of paper from a building high,

on this stage of denial
i shall dance my mambo.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Pain Is Us

pain is us, the forest feels it.
pain is us, the seas suck it.
pain is us, the air is choked.
pain is us, the trees are cut
into pieces, and we write the
pain on paper.
pain is us, the earth is holed
and all its black intestines
all burned, our wars never ending
our selfishness stretching even
to the tiniest star that we still
want to own, on paper, like
torrens titles of the glitter.

pain is us, unquantifiable.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All I Can Do Is Write Poems

ALL I CAN DO IS WRITE POEMS

All I can do is write poems
I have nothing else to say-
Only what Poetry alone can give
The expression of the soul
The deepest feeling we have
Whatever is in us and hurts the most
And needs most to be said.
All I can do in pain is write poems
But when the gladness comes?
When the happiness returns?
I will try too to to find words
For what is unsayable.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Good to write poems

I want everyone in theworld
To write poems
Poems is the best to happy writing
Anger sad and pain
Which you write it in poems
Heal faster and better
Than any medicine in theworld
Because I know I write
In anger sad pain and much joy
Romance exotic and love
Society reality and life
Religion GOD and fantasia
I write what I feel and heard
Peaceful within, no more hurt or sad
Anger all to happiness and
Forgiveness you find
Solution you get
The joy the fulfillment
The happy feeling and heal
I can’t felt it until each poem I write

poem by See Fee Lee
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A Poem For Those Who Are Sad

did Octavio say that happiness
and charm are cliches?
did he really mean that he
shall write about those who
labor in pain
about those who stopped
smiling because of the
harsh rain
about those who hide
because of the coming storm?

he could be right
not writing about the cliches of
happy days

for they have all enough
that make the sweet syrups
of their eating lives

let me write a poem for those
who are sad
for those who have less

let me write about the opening
of a flower
about the butterflies moving
out from their cocoons

let me write about the
end of the bitter days
for they have less and now

they may have more
through my lines

let me write about the
rising of the sun
the waking up of the boy
from his sleep
and the beginning
of his play on the yard
with his bike

let me write more
about what i really like...

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Pain I Can Control

The pain I can control
The pain that makes me whole
The pain that stops and brings some tears
The pain that erases all my fears
The pain that I inflict with this knife
The pain that might be last in my life
The pain that brought me to my knees
The pain that woahed me full of pleas
The pain that made me see the light
The pain that is bringing me home tonight
The pain that is wrong and bitter
The pain that makes me feel fitter
The pain that my friends say is wrong
The pain that makes me feel so strong
The pain that makes my friend sad, and cry
The pain that makes her want to die
The pain thats not just pain to me
The pain that makes everyone see
The pain that thats tearing me apart
The pain thats ripping apart my heart
The pain that I'm addicted to
The pain I can't give up. Not even for you..

poem by Nyl Revol
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The Pen Goes Dry

How I wish I could write
That life's a bed of roses,
It's not one hell of a fight
With ugly wounds and bloody noses,

Just one happy fairy tale
Where no one ever fails.
No heartache there for you and I,
A stage where eyes are always dry.

I'll write of sorrow and of pain
Of standing up to rise again.
I'll write of things as I know best:
That indeed life is a running test.

Why fear vulnerability-
When life is fearful reality?
It is an ugly battlefield-
And denial will not be my shield.

Why hide the shame, the pain, the falling?
That's where you'll find a lot of learning.
To shirk from truth is to live a lie,
That's when my pen will go dry.

............. ................................................. ..............................
April 6,2009 Tarlac City Philippines

poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All That

I write
Without
Pain

I write
Without
Grief

I write
Without
Shame

How can I
Write ~
Without
All that?

For when
I write…
My poetry
Sucks -
All that
Out of me.

It's called
The
Writing
Therapy.

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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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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His Call

That evening
I sat down to write
My very last mail
To him.

And while I was writing
I could feel
My aching heart
Throbbing so loud
I could hear
Every beat of it
Pulsating with pain.

And still I kept writing
My very last mail
To him.
Though my eyes
Felt blurred
With all the tears
That rushed asunder
Streaming through my cheeks
And yet I brushed them aside
And wrote
My very last mail to him.

And when I had done
All the writing
I took a long, last look
At that letter of mine
Re-reading every word of it
That I had written to him
With all my heart...

Those precious moments
Were so endearing to me
For I felt that
Once this mail goes
I won't be able to
Write to him anymore
No more of those
Diary mails of mine
I used to write to him
Everyday.

For I had made a Promise
Never to go back
To him.
And that promise I had made
To him and to myself
With all the pain
And the agony
That had shrouded me.

Yes - that promise has stayed Intact
And I would abide by it.
And I haven't faltered...
Though my tender heart feels
So very Bruised.

And even though
The other day
He called me up
And I heard
His broken voice
Over the phone
Saying that
He had read my mail
Explaining himself
How he was...
How very dear to him
I have been
How very close
To his heart.

I just listened
And yet his garble of words
Were beyond me now
And more than his voice
His words of care
I could hear -
The waves of silence
That had engulfed me.

He did all the talking
And I -
All the listening...
And yet,
Today - when I look back
I don't feel like going back
To him anymore.

And I know he might call again
Asking me if I am cross.
In life's such delicate
Situations -
Being angry doesn't help
So why should I be?

It is just that
I don't feel like
Writing to him anymore
The pain is just too much
And so are the scars of the past
Like scabs on the skin
Bleeding every now and then.

And so that was my last mail
My very last mail to him
And his call for a truce
I had to choose...
Truce with him
Or truce with my silence.

And I looked back
At all the hard times
He had given me -
All the pain of the past years
That kept reverberating inside
Like the Tinnitus of being Deaf.

And I thought
I would call it a truce
A truce of realisation
A truce of acceptance
No - not with him.
But - A Lifetime's Truce
With me and my Destiny.

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Silvercrank london 1994

i hear your winter
i hear you rain
and i've failed your summer ways
and i feel no pain

i hear what you want
and i feel that way
i hear what you want
and i feel that way

i hear you fade away
and i hear you crawl
i gave my life away
and i feel no pain
and i feel no pain
and i feel no pain
and i feel your pain

and she is my lover so sweet
and she is my angel
and what i've recovered of me
i put into a box underneath my bed

when you lie in your bed
and you lie to yourself
when you lie in your bed
and you lie to yourself
when you lie
lie

song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins from Vieuphoria
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Write And Write And Write And Write

I WRITE AND WRITE AND WRITE AND WRITE

I write and write and write and write
I write and write and write and write
I write.
And all this writing and all these words and all I am
Forever unheard.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Write

Write, keep writing lot
Write, write before you forget
Write, make it as reminder
Write, write before words disappear
Write, for you to contemplate
Write, write before your mind changed

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Why I Write?

I write poems for myself and I write for the readers
I write for the masses and I write for the leaders
I write to imprint my thoughts in people's mind
I write to make the bad guys helpful and kind
I write to light up our path to Great God
I write for everyone home and abroad
I write to preserve values new and old
I write to make my ink precious like gold
I write for peace and I write for progress
I write to make the world a better place
All major issues I want to address
I write to see smile on God's face

poem by Asif Andalib
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Questions

Write me what you're wearing! Is it warm?
Write me how you lie! Do you lie there softly?
Write me how you look! Is it still the same?
Write me what you're missing! Is it my arm?

Write me how you are! Have you been spared?
Write me what they're doing! Do you have enough courage?
Write me what you're doing! Is it good?
Write me, who are you thinking of? Is it me?

Freely, I've given you only my questions.
And I hear the answers, how they fall.
When you're tired, I can't carry it for you.

If you're hungry, I have nothing for you to eat.
And so now I leave the world
No longer there, as if I've forgotten you.

poem by Bertolt Brecht
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When U R In Pain

when u r in pain

when ur heart is broken when ur tounge stop talking.
when u needs to cry but ur eyes is dry.
u r in pain
when u prefer to die when ur heart needs supply
when usee the morning night when ur eyes closedcuz u feel fright
when u feel that all when u have no soul
u r in pain
when u write to express when ur hurt progress
when u see the more less
u r in pain
when ur love gone away when u feel that no way
u r in pain

poem by Hassan Alokily
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Write Me

Aerosmith
Write Me
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
I said, the ways of the night are evil with eyes that love the day,
but I'll never never never never never get so far away.
I said write me, write me, write me.
I said write me, write me, write me.
Well there's nothin' I can see that'd ever make
me want to be without her she's good, she's good to me.
Said there's no way to explain the kind of feeling
that you get out in the rain she's good, she's good to me.
See this emptiness inside it makes me scream
it make me crawl out of my high, she's good, she's good to me.
I love her.
Write me a letter, write me a letter, write it today, I'm goin' away.
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
Well I've been so many places hidin' from the wind and the rain,
But you could write me a letter for to save me from a goin' insane.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Don't write me baby.

song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cacoethes Scribendi

If all the trees in all the woods were men;
And each and every blade of grass a pen;
If every leaf on every shrub and tree
Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea
Were changed to ink, and all earth's living tribes
Had nothing else to do but act as scribes,
And for ten thousand ages, day and night,
The human race should write, and write, and write,
Till all the pens and paper were used up,
And the huge inkstand was an empty cup,
Still would the scribblers clustered round its brink
Call for more pens, more paper, and more ink.

poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Scribbler's Stymie

Pen and paper in sight
I've got no poem to write

Staying up all night
I've got no poem to write

Although my mind is bright
I've got no poem to write

It's windy out tonight, should I go fly a kite?
I've got no poem to write

My ceiling, it is white
I've got no poem to write

It's 4: 59! Five, but not quite
I've got no poem to write

In your arms I'd feel so light
I've got no poem to write

I've had no sleep tonight
I've got no poem to write

Will you just hold me tight?
I've got no poem to write

Outside it's almost light
I've got no poem to write

It's late, off goes my light
I've got no poem to write

poem by Julia Grace
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