A Novice Desire, An Essay On Writing
The novice
wanted to write something
strange different inlaid
with the wonder,
of a few of the values
which are important,
but which society
seems to lack
or have forgotten.
Which need remembering
and should be brought
to the for again
for the consideration
and possibly the advancement
of the state of mind.
Drawing from life,
previous experience,
memories, imagination,
and the pursuit
of the elusive idea.
Some writers
seem to know
almost nothing
in real terms
of the reality
of which they wrote.
Their work
lacks depth,
an acceptable degree
of accuracy
sincerity.
Some have settled
for cheap,
commercialized
mass production,
centred
on public interest
subjects
in pursuit
of the quick buck.
Or write within
the acceptable
guide lines
which many editors
dictate
and often demand.
Which has
been done
millions
of times before.
Stating
nothing unique?
Style and a definite
minimum standard,
enriched
with original thought
where appropriate,
should form
part of purposed
subject matter.
Realizing of course
that true originality
may prove
a mixed
ungrateful master,
devoid
of general acceptance
or understanding?
It has never
seemed right
or important
to me
to produce
merely
for the sake
of producing.
Or to write
in a style
that is pleasing
or acceptable
to any given editor.
If I write
anything
it is for
own personal
enjoyment.
To express
in the manner
I enjoy most
or deem fitting.
And especially
for the pleasure
and benefit,
of those who might
appreciate and feel
enriched after reading
a given piece.
I would like
to share
an idea or thought
with the reader
in the only
way possible.
Because
it is not possible
to always meet
people
we are drawn to
and would like
to converse with.
Nor to hold
indefinitely
creative thoughts
in the mind.
If thoughts
are to be
preserved
and shared
thoughts
must be committed
to the printed page.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
A Carbon Copy
Rubbish, written rubbish
I can't show it to anyone I know
They'll get the wrong idea,
They'll think I am fatalistic,
A desperate soul...
(But isn't he clever!)
Too bad he can't control his thoughts
They should be more like ours
We are society, the community,
We dictate the acceptable attitude,
The right way to think and write...
But who-are we
But individuals, first
And finally individuals
Suffocating from individualism...
Or lack of it-...!
©All Rights Reserved-2010
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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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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No Poem Is An Original
No poem is an original
everyone who writes
poetry thinks their poem
was an original, it just so
happens that their poem just
surfaced to the top
of their mind first, so they
were able to write it.
Everyone has love, hate
compassion buried deep
in their soul.
Poets are able to bring
all of this to the surface,
to construct, add the words,
but it is not an original
idea, for the poet because
they wrote it now, it
becomes an original for them.
Who has not heard a song,
read a poem, story or book,
seen a movie and said,
to themselves, hey I had
that same idea.
Only thing is, someone else
brought it to the surface
of the mind, and wrote it first.
Even this poem I'm writing
now is not an original
someone out there
has this idea buried
deep in their soul.
So if you have an idea
for a poem, get busy
write it, don't wait,
or you won't write an original
start today,
don't delay.
wrote 2-2-07
Thoughts Whirling
The need to write
Get rid of these mixes mass of thought
What to write?
Yes, something is amiss!
Talking is not enough
Yet thoughts whirling in my head
Unaware of revelling in the words
Which flow from this pen?
Still no words
Not sure what to write
Yet here it is
A whole massed mess of words
For all to read
Thought this medley of words
Brought some calmness
Shoulders more relaxed
Fragments of each thought
Clear as daylight
This muddled mass of thoughts
A verse created
By, a whirling mind
poem by Persian Khushi
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Thoughts Whirling
The need to write
Get rid of these mixes mass of thought
What to write?
Yes, something is amiss!
Talking is not enough
Yet thoughts whirling in my head
Unaware of revelling in the words
Which flow from this pen
Still no words
Not sure what to write
Yet here it is
A whole massed mess of words
For all to read
Thought this medley of words
Brought some calmness
Shoulders more relaxed
Fragments of each thought
Clear as daylight
This muddled mass of thoughts
A verse created
By, a whirling mind
poem by Persian Khushi
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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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Thinking
I think and think
and every single thought
comes into my mind
as if it were caught
in a spidery web
that sticks like glue
until that thought
is finally through.
Some thoughts are happy
and they are most welcome.
Some thoughts are sad
and then I'm overrun
with tears that fill my eyes
like a pool.
I cry out these thoughts,
my number one rule.
For to hold back my tears
and not let them flow
would drown my thinking
and where would they go?
Into a whirlpool
that circles around
making my demeanor
take me down?
No, I say.
Pick up your pen.
Write those thoughts
and say amen.
Read them aloud
for they're now on a page,
not trapped in my mind
like a bird in a cage.
Freedom, freedom
my mind is free.
Oh how rewarding
that can be.
Enjoy it I say
for it won't last long
for I think and I think
as my life moves along.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Drunk On Poetry
Poetry surges steadily
Through my veins
I grant it to stream through them
Day in and day out
Sleep and awake
I believe it's a healthy obsession
I get drunk on it
The more I inject in me
My mind thrives on poetry
My soul thrives on poetry
I become addicted
Sometimes I absorb too much poetry
Reading, writing and listening
I become drunk sometimes
Poetry spills from my pen
Inking a piece of paper
And unto another and another
Constantly on every thought
Humorous, emotionally, romantic, tragic
Experiencing in life
Opinionated, factual, abstract
Political, any subject that's on my thoughts
Sometimes I become drunk
The more i inject into me
Poetry I live for
Eat, drink, sleep
Racing through my spirit
Poetry, poetry, poetry
I loose myself sometimes
When I digest too much
Poems that I write
I write for me
I share them with the world
I can't resist this urge
Poetry is what I crave
It happens to be my mistress
I become drunk
The more I inject
My mind thrives on poetry
My soul thrives on poetry
I become so addicted
Breathing in too much poetry
Reading, writing, listening
I'm drunk sometimes
Poetry I write
Write from experience
What I've done
What I've heard
What I've seen
What I've felt
What I've known
Poetry I live for
Eating, drinking, sleeping
Racing through my spirit
Poetry, poetry, poetry
On my thoughts poetry
Loosing myself sometimes
When I inject enough
This is what I've become
A drunken poet
poem by R.K. Cowles
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Multiplicity Within Society Changes Shared World
some poets
writers prefer to write
shadows echoes
imitations of thoughts
writers they esteem
have written which captures
their imagination expresses
ideas concepts which intrigue
imitations can be interesting variants
tributes to originals
or ideas a poet or writer feels
compelled to express
however complete thoughts
theories are within hearts minds
prepared to be still prepared
to wait meditate focus
thoughts into a complete whole
originality lurks within minds
of curiosity perception
should challenge individuals
to think reason upon values
cause and effect consequences
creating multiplicity within society
changes within our shared world
on a global scale
that which we must
value and affirm
transcends into an essential
part of all we can become
throughout a lifetime of choices
sacrifices attitudes
we will live as life codes
defining the character
of our personality
within
collective humanity
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Writing Poetry
Some people write poetry
to fulfil their dream,
others write it as a personal diary.
While yet more write to protest.
Some write sonnets
for unfrequented love.
Some bring laughter
to sad faces somewhere,
while others dwell on memories
that they would like to share.
Some write of love, while
others write of God.
Write as you will on anything,
but the main point is that you write,
and give joy to all that will read.
poem by David Harris
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Ever since I began to compose, I have remained true to my starting principle: not to write a page because no matter what public, or what pretty girl wanted it to be thus or thus; but to write solely as I myself thought best, and as it gave me pleasure.
quote by Felix Mendelssohn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Brephos
Although it is easy for one to think, it is not always easy for one to write
Not all thoughts can be expressed into words, nor should they. Rousseau said in his solitary walks or was it his confessions? That his most beautiful thoughts died in him as quick as he thought them and how he at the time wished he had a pen in hand to write them all down. Those thoughts are dead, but perhaps those same thoughts are born in others written down somewhere in all of infinite time. Some thoughts like some lives are not meant to be born. The seed of this thought, watered by my serene tears, germinates in my soul as I write this letter. Still I can't find the words to express its beauty, its paradox, its mystery. The seed germinates but no plant is born, no flower blooms. For every child that isn't born, for every thought trapped in the moral order nature's thought; the ineffable, the unborn, the unknown, I hope one day you find expression and tell the world what you are and what beauty really is—To eloquence that never speaks, to thought that never thinks, to life that never lives, in my heart you speak, think and live.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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I wrote a verse and thought no more
(to the Afrikaans poet Louis Esterhuyzen)
I wrote a verse and thought no more,
will I write, not another thought to paper put,
and I will be free from petty critics, who with words do cut,
be free from elitist poets who my work deplore,
who claim that I write faster than they can type,
that no real expertise is found in my art,
that I have sold my soul to every reader in parcel and part
that I am the stereotype
of the rubble that are trying to become something
and when I put my pen down
while my thoughts were wandering,
You reminded me that I am Your very own,
that my talent, the words I do impart,
flow freely from my heart.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I Need to Write
I need to write a poem, but how shall I do it,
First of all shall I write standing up, or just sit;
Until I get comfortable, I won't be able to start,
All the words will be muddled up, and then it'll fall. Apart.
Now! I got it right, I will choose the title to write about,
No good getting frustrated, or even sit or pout;
Just need to relax, and then the words will come easy,
Cause if I try to hard, Then my stomach will feel queasy.
I know what sort of holiday would people like,
And as I start the poem, the hall clock did strike;
Oh! It is now is what I can do, write about the time passing,
And so I have the heading, the thoughts on paper lasting.
It's got colour, size, And description, and the taste of art,
It's come from my mind, emotions, and also from the heart;
It has vision, and thoughts about where I want to go,
Yes! I think it'll get some to agree, to me they'll show.
So if you have a problem to write a poem or story,
Just read this poem, as a help, it's a help from me;
Don't force the idea, or rush it through at all,
Just go have a cuppa, read an article or a friend call.
Eventually it'll come, the words will flow along,
You might even end up, turning it into a song;
Writing poems will be rewarding, just give a go,
And you might enjoy it, they may end up in a show.
poem by Margaret Haig
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From Mighty Pen
It will not only be evaluated
But in all the directions circulated
Each word read and assessed
The thought behind it accepted and chased
Whatever you write
May not lead to fight
But may be preserved
As you have deserved
Write up is perfect
Speak of good act
One should have always dreamed
Thought of and assumed
Write with pen and pencil
But never mention it as nil
It may make final impression
Fine border with embroidery relation
So to speak less and do more
Some thoughts are needed therefore
To write and leave it for others
To think, act or otherwise bother
Write, write and write
That shall ignite
Your hidden talent
To make solid movement
Readers may not appreciate quickly
But may accept views happily
As it has come from a mighty pen
At a time when needed from noble man
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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I’d Like to Write a Sonnet Just in Fun
I wrote to write my thoughts in clarity
I wrote to write ideas and views that storm
You see I wrote to write tranquility
But now I want to write in sonnet form
I like emotions locked inside fourteen
Inside with beats I’ve never known before
The sonnet life has rule as code adds mien
To quench my thirst for laws that I explore
I lay the code in mind to bring feelings
With beats I join to capture its allure
In words I write to form with beats freeing
To play amongst the codes that I procure
I will reread and learn as I arrange
With feelings that will flow as beats will change
poem by Paul Moosberg
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A Poet's Rant
Each page, A blank canvas
The pen, The linking brush
My hand and arm, The creators
My mind, The imaginative dreamer
The issue is the bringing about of a colorful picture
Due to my chosen art my stroking motions of pen mean nothing in poetry
The story and language of my broken thoughts
Are to converge and stick to make one solitary piece
The issue is they never stay constant or stick
Always changing by the hour of thought and emotion
The thoughts of an elusive rhyme scheme never fulfilled
So I’ll try to do the best I can with increasing practice
Practice in reading a Thesaurus perhaps?
Although for now I shall try to write elegant whimsical words
That the world seems to have forgotten n’less it is heard in a work of Shakespeare
Or in a Medieval movie
Similar to a conjured phrase such as,
My aforethought words drip from a scaly desert of a tongue of whose reading can be found in the unlockable cave known to that of this poet.
Despite its attractiveness to the eyes of a skimmer or wandering reader
Some may appreciate the sentimental phrase I made
poem by Ryan Collins
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There Is No Such Thing As Writer's Block
i am part of the
lousy writers' club
restless people
with nothing to do
but write
hopeless cases
of paranoia
biting their pens
speeding their fingers
on the keys
without much thought
whether
people believe in their
causes
we are part of this
useless endeavor
the objective of which
is only to express
and not really to impress
i am part of the lousy people
our business is to write and write
and writer's block is
a crime
we write not really to impress
but only to express
we are depressed
we are oppressed
we are obsessed
to a fly and wasp and
termites and trite
we are not afraid of our
own self infected cliches.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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2010/01/10 Innovative And New
Started running since Friday, running from knowing
by reading Seth, several lives running concurrently
for many entities, aspects of soul
Running from knowing on Monday this week I am
back at work, a good place to be, given my col-
leagues, a nightmare of course
Given the way it is run by Human Resources trying
to force us to give account of every breath we take,
every gesture we make
Every thought that crosses our mind, for some it is
a piece of cake, for others, like me, the most scary
idea in the Multiverse, my thoughts
Need to be free, how would progress have taken
place if everybody where under the edict to think
the acceptable thought
Never thinking of the unexpected, the innovative
and new?
poem by Margaret Alice
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