Catastrophe
I may never write again,
in this wordless void
I feel helpless, hopeless,
discombobulated,
a stressed out mess.
Thoughts evaporate
into clouds of mist
high above my head.
I feel numb, dumb
and distressed.
Hot tears rain down
upon an empty page.
This is disastrous,
a bloody catastrophe,
I rage.
My fingers type
as the keyboard wobbles
under pressure
from a virgin sheet,
all sterile.
What trick is this,
that my wordiness
should be stubbed out
like a half smoked
cigarette………..
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
I'm hopeless
I feel like I'm trap in dark, and I can't get out
I'm lost and by myself in a corner
I'm in a room with no light
i did everything wrong
I feel like it me aganist the world
I feel like there this cloud over my head
It raining down hard on me
It following me everywhere, if I don't do anything about it
I'm hopeless
I can't get out
The world is coming in and closing on me
I mess up big time
My head is mess
I can't figure it out
I feel like noone is helping me
I'm hopeless
poem by Christina Phan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Really Love The Rain
I really love the rain, I really love the rain,
cast your clouds, hide us from it all, wash away these stains
it's my gift, it's my present, I’d spend an hour walking in it's presence.
It's exactly how I feel man, it's exactly how I feel Ya...,
I really love the rain man…, I really love the rain ya....
I spent all day at work now I’ll spend all night in bed, so
I can get up and do it again cause, I really need that rent cause,
I really need that bread cause, I’m tired of going hungry. I’m
tired of needing help, I just want to live a moment for myself.
As selfish as that seems, I just really need that moment
so I can see my options clearly. So I hope the sky's not clearing,
cause I really love the rain man…
I really love the rain ya…, I really love the rain-
a little shower to calm my mind, a gentle mist and a slight
Breeze, bit of dew drips off the trees.
puddles form but not to your knees, no ones missing
no one bleeds. it's exactly how I feel man.., it's exactly how I feel
ya..., I really love the rain man…, I really love the rain ya...
For my anger there's a storm, let the lightning crash and burn.
There's my hatred, there's my rage, there's no way I could turn the page.
Stumbling in my clumsy ways, I’d probably set the book a blaze.
Let it rain oh, let it rain, show all my emotions, empty all my pain.
Man I really love the rain ya..., I really love the rain.
Its my drug it makes my day, like a pill I’d pop all day.
Run and jump and laugh and play, I’ll stay and dance don't go away.
Man I really love the rain ya..., I really love the rain.
Its my drug it makes my day, like a pill I’d pop all day.
I sit and cry and wonder why, who I am or why I’m here?
man this life just isn’t fair, but at least I have the rain.
it's exactly how I feel man..., it's exactly how I feel ya…,
I really love the rain man..., I really love the rain ya...,
poem by Charles Carrelli
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Author's Inspiration
My fingers do not type the words on the page; they do not draw delusions on a thin piece of white lined paper. They are not meant for the works of art to be used and unworthy for. My fingers are worthy enough to paint pictures inside your cognizance, more than painting a paintless sheet that means nothing to me. My fingers work as if every picture I paint in my mind, inspires them to write the unwritten page, to make it a master piece. But not every inspiration inside my mind, will take merely a second to create. It takes time, patience, and art to smear the writings onto a page. Author inspiration is from what comes from the heart; deep and dark, inspring and light - it's as if it was left inside its cage. No freedom, no light, no darkness, no being of a creature that the render of the paper, simply gave up on inspiring the little ones'. It's as if this mere creature was left within a white blank world. No colors to paint, no words to express. An author inspiration is formed when they see or hear other works of art, whether it's music to their ears, movies they wish to be in, life and feelings that they feel or positioned in, or other writings that they write something else about - but as an inspiration from them. An inspiration can be from anything from the outside world, from what happens inside one's life, to what creates such imagination within one's thoughts that coats the page with color and creativity. Anyone can be talented. Anyone can have an inspiration. You just have to feel and be it.
poem by Alicia Meyers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pressure Point
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I feel it in work, you know, I feel it in bed
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I've paid all my bills and I've acted so well
Ain't been cheating, there's nothing to tell
So why all this pressure, I dont understand
I call on my neighbours, and lend them a hand
Doctor, oh doctor, I'm willing to learn
Well all of my bones, well they toss and they turn
Mother, oh mother, I'm begging you please
To rid me of madness and cure this disease
... (?) told you what I have become
With all of this pressure, my mind's on a run
... (?) changing, let's hope for the best
Maybe it's something to get off my chest
Doctor, oh doctor, I'm begging you please
To rid me of madness and cure this disease
Mother, oh mother, I'm willing to learn
Well all of my bones, well they toss and they turn
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I feel it in work, you know, I feel it in bed
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
song performed by by Zutons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Unwritten Silence
The blankness of the page
Stares back at me tormenting
With the wordless expression
Of an unwritten silence
The uninspired imaginings
Stir a void of nothingness
Denying ink drawn from the pen
Where dreamless ideas fail
The numbness of my thoughts
Search in vain for a muse
A potential line cast aside
Too cliché for a verse
The living edit of a poem
Still requires the first word
Yet nothing but stillness
The empty page before me
Torments in wordless expression
My unwritten silence
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blank, Numb, Floating
it is 1: 55 a.m.
i hear the rain falling
she is fast asleep tired of the demands of her day
i leave her and she takes the pillow for me
i turn on the light
and see this room of books and paperworks
i turn on the computer
i am feeling nothing and i am floating like i am but a spirit
i am numb and i am feeling so dumb
i see this blank wall
i am feeling so empty
i look at her again
she utters words in her sleep and i will not wake her up
i lay my hands on the keys
run my fingers on some letters
there is nothing to write
in particular but there is something to run my fingers on
this feeling
this attempt to imitate the sound of the rain in letters
to put the motion of the rain to put its smell
to be wet and to have the rain run over me
all over me all over me all over me all over me
blank, numb, floating and wet
this is the poem now
at 2: 03 a.m.
it has gained finally this form
and scent and motion and color
that you have never seen
or felt the way
i do.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Numb inside
So very numb inside.
I do feel.
So very empty and numb.
Will ever feel again,
An emotionless wreck.
As depression
Sets in
As it takes over me.
Depression controlls my life.
So very numb inside.
I cannot feel a thing.
A shadow
Of darkness
So very numb
numb
I feel
Nothing
just numb
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At the beginning of this album I discovered the computer and had great fun playing with the thing. And I realized that, not being a good keyboard player, I could write things in very small sections, give them a certain feel and mess about with bends on the keyboard.
Pressure
A funny thing happened yesterday
I felt the pressure in a brand new way
It kept hitting me from all directions
I got this feeling I was cracking up
My knees were shaking and I couldnt close my eyes
I fought to gain control and make corrections
A funny thing happened yesterday
I felt the pressure in a tv way.
Dont feel, dont feel
Feel pressure from me
Dont feel, dont feel
No pressure from me
Dont feel, dont feel
Feel pressure from me.
You watch the box and the video jocks
If you could talk that could even be you up there
Thats why you need max head room
Too much pressure for peace on earth
Too much tryin to get your moneys worth
Too much dying
The eldorado, the mercedes benz
The job security that never ends.
Dont feel, dont feel
Feel pressure from me
Dont feel, dont feel
No pressure from me
Dont feel, dont feel
Feel pressure from me
Dont feel, dont feel
No pressure from me.
I feel the pressure building every night
One of these days Im gonna go out like a light
Oh, baby
I feel the pressure building every night
One of these days Im gonna go out like a light.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Vow 2 (Right Words)
I've always been able to
now I don't even know what to do
it's never been a problem before
I've always been able to write about it
talk about it, now that it hit me
I'm somewhat speechless
I put pad to pen, nothing
an empty space on a white page
shouldn't this just write itself?
not a word or a single letter
I know it hit me, I feel it
it hurts yet I like it,
I smile at the sight of it
I've spent days and still on a blank page
it's stupid to say, but I give up
a pen is in rage to silence
to express this, these feelings
no words could describe
nor will I try
the only thing I can say for certain
that it is real, I Love you
this I vow.
poem by Kelvin Owusu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dinner Invitation
if I at this keyboard
proffer
thoughts of how I feel
among the dirt paths
within the valleys green
reduce opportunities
infer profanities
slimming hopes
dulcet rhythms
increasing mirth
whence shall arise
understanding
that only I shall know
offer me
on your keyboard
thoughts of how you feel.
poem by Frederick Kesner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Like The Breeze, Like A Storm
I ain’t easy to live with
Some say it’s bloody hard
My life’s a keyboard
And sometimes a guitar
I’ve lived every note from the heart
Without love, life is empty
Like the clear blue sky, sometimes you need a little rain
Take my heart, take it empty,
Fill it with your love, then give it back again
And in return I’ll touch you like the breeze and ravish you like a storm
I ain’t easy to live with
Some say it’s bloody hard
My life’s a keyboard
And sometimes a guitar
I’ve lived every note from the heart
Without thoughts, you are empty
Like the bird that flies, sometimes you need the earth
Take my mind, take it empty,
Fill it with everything, give it birth and everything you have come to know
And in return I’ll touch you like the breeze and ravish you like a storm
Each dropp of water that falls to the ground
Makes it’s own unique sound
Each star that flickers deep into the night
Send a note of pure delight
Without love, life is empty
Like the clear blue sky, sometimes you need a little rain
Take my heart, take it empty,
Fill it with your love, then give it back again
And in return I’ll touch you like the breeze and ravish you like a storm
I ain’t easy to live with
Some say it’s bloody hard
My life’s a keyboard
And sometimes a guitar
I’ve lived every note from the heart
Copyright Colin Coplin 2010 / 20111
poem by Colin Coplin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Blank Page Blues
I know we have all done it,
sat in front of a pristine white sheet of paper
and got ready to write something down,
and then we are confronted
with the blank page blues.
The words of inspiration
then scurry and hide away.
You are left with pen in hand,
scratching your head
wondering what to say.
There is no cure for this syndrome;
writers get it all the time.
Some call it a writer’s block,
when nothing comes into your head.
You sit in front of a blank page.
You know what you want to write,
then someone disturbs you
and the words disappear out of sight.
How many times have we had that?
We sit down to write our masterpiece
and the telephone rings,
or someone shouts your dinner is getting cold.
You feel like screaming,
but you take it on the chin.
You lay down your pen,
answer the phone or have your dinner,
and when you come back,
the blank page confronts you.
Still you cannot write anything on it.
You stare at it for hours,
until finally you get tired
and journey off to bed.
Hoping and hoping tomorrow
a little peace, it will bring
and your words on that blank page
will really begin to sing.
10 May 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Feeling's
My face is a mask that ive worn so long
You cant get close my mask is to strong
I want to feel love but driven hate
Sin and regret will be my fate
How do I live life if no feelings are there
Stressed and angry to drained to care
I'm empty inside that's all I can feel
I want to have feelings but don't know what's real
I need to clear my head and a fresh mentality
Fill the empty hole that's causing this agony
Love and happiness I try to express
With out my mask I would be a mess
God please give me strength to fight this fear
I smile for a while but still shed a tear
poem by Nic Hillen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Kiss The Tongue And The Twitting Bird....
when you get near me when you
press your lips against mine, you shall feel the coldness of my dawn,
you keep your mind open like eyes staring at the sun,
yet what you see is still the haze, the fog hanging by the mountain
since it has always been a very cold day,
when you put your tongue inside my mouth, you feel the rain rushing
making a river of rippling waters and it is the force inside that
you will feel
you close your eyes and trace where it is going, and you shall know
that every dropp of rain that makes this river
is always going away from you away from us, and you start to browse
over the silence of the my day, and you shall find that this day is an
empty page where all my words have already been erased because i do not want you to know anymore what i feel and who i am,
i am detached, i am numb, and i do not wish to know what love is all about and where it is going,
i just like to hear a bird twitting alone on that old tree.
whatever is it that it is singing, i do not really care.
for what i know is that i am alive, and for what purpose, who cares?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Missin You
When you're gone
I feel this empty void
Something is obviously missing
I feel lost
I feel lonely
I feel sad
I feel alone
This feeling is it going to last
Or shortly die
When you're gone
I'm missing you like crazy
I can't think
I can't sleep
I can't eat
Nothing can be done without you there
I need to see your face
I need to hear your voice
I need to smell your scent
You are the antidote to this disease
Please won't you cure me
When I'm missing you like crazy
And get rid of this empty void
poem by Khirishka Albury
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nowhere Lane
we are...
the ink barely dried
on the page,
the cup chipped
on the windowsill.
wood stacked against
the porch,
the shadows on the
empty swing.
the kiss lost,
and the ring.
red dirt dried
on the shovel,
the old boots left
by the door.
the creaking of the
screen door opening,
the box tied and
packed away.
hunger sap dried
on novel sheets,
the half smoked cigarette
lying in the ashtray.
the sound of the empty room,
in that old house on nowhere lane!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
She Is Sleepless, She Is Probing
They read your lines
They perhaps like you
They try to read you
In between
she is sleepless
And she pities you
she is probing
And she writes for you too
And you feel so honored
Comes our arrogance
You say you write
Only for yourself
For art’s sake
You say you cannot
Write for no other
You say you cannot
Stop writing
Your essence is just that
To write for no other
To write or you die
Be kind
Let them read you through the night
Let them follow you
Warn them though
They may have followed
A blind man eking his way through
His darkness
Without even a cane to feel his way.
The Virgin Mary
And Veronica
The crying mother
And the cloth to wipe a bloody face
Don’t stretch further
There is no Christ in me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Becoming So Numb
I'm tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface
Don't know what you're expecting of me
Put under the pressure of walking in your
shoes
(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the
undertow)
Every step that I take is another mistake to
you
(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the
undertow)
I've become so numb, I can't feel you
there,
Become so tired, so much more aware
I'm becoming this, all I want to do
Is be more like me and be less like you.
And I know
I may end up failing too.
But I know
You were just like me with someone
disappointed in you.
I've become so numb, I can't feel you
there,
Become so tired, so much more aware.
I'm becoming this, all I want to do
Is be more like me and be less like you.
I've become so numb, I can't feel you
there.
(I'm tired of being what you want me to be)
I've become so numb, I can't feel you
there.
(I'm tired of being what you want me to be)
poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Innocence
What else can I do when the tears have all been wasted?
And the only voice you choose to hear
Sings the songs of our hearts breaking.
Say your dreams, they all have changed.
Well, my smiles, they all have faded.
And the thoughts that used to seem so pure in my heart,
They now feel jaded.
Because I wanna feel like I did.
And I wanna feel innocence.
What else can it be except this pride Im sick of drinking.
Storm clouds all have gone away.
Can we stop this thing from sinking?
Because I wanna feel like I did.
And I wanna feel innocence.
And I want you to know,
And to feel in your soul,
That someone has come and gone.
Im stuck up here with you.
I never thought wed get this high.
I used to be afraid of falling.
Now Ill spred my wings and I will fly.
I wanna feel like I did.
And I wanna feel innocence.
I wanna feel like I did.
Oh, and I wanna feel innocence, oh. i...
song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!