En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Block

Staring at paper for hours--
My pen draws a blank--
Again and again and again;
Seeking inspiration we search-
For that oft' times illusive Muse--
The source of all our creativity--
The fire of our psyche--
The light of our heart-
Who oft' hides herself---
Cleverly somewhere--
Out of reach--
In the back corridors--
Of our soul---
Playing hide and seek occasionly--
With our pen---
And circumstance--
Waiting for just---
The right moment----
To explode---
Once and again---
On paper;

The Essence
July,2010

poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Blank Sheet Of Paper

I'm just a blank sheet of paper
This fool's about to write you a letter
To tell you that he's sorry
For the way he did you wrong
To ask for forgiveness
For leaving you alone
He's been looking down at me seems like forever
he takes the top on and off his pen
It's like he can't decide
Just what he wants to say
If he'd just tell the truth
I'd be on my way
Chorus
But he just stares at me
And i just stare at him
He don't know where to start
To say he doesn't want it to end
And now it's one hour later (four hours later)
I am still a blank sheet of paper
Sunlight is shining through the curtains
He's almost asleep pen in hand
There's a tear in his eye
That refuses to fall
If it would land on me
That would say it all
Repeat Chorus
And he just stares at me
And i just stare at him
He don't know where to start
To say he wants it back again
And now one broken heart later
I am still a Blank sheet of paper

song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Paper

Paper promises, Dunstead said,
paper cups, wallpaper being stuck

up on the wall for the next to last
time, paper tigers, paper to wipe

the ass and best of all paper to
create art, to have it from the heart,

to see it out there, being gazed at,
studied by some bearded guy with

glasses and paper money to buy
the next paper to create and then

if I’m lucky the muse turning up on
time and giving me the big nudge

in the right direction or some paper
picture of some nude dame giving

the long time wished for erection.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

White Blank Paper

On a white blank paper
I'm writing the chronicle of a tormented soul
Reality and dream are two different things
Can't achieve the same goal

On a white blank paper
I'm putting the pieces of my broken heart
Vanquished & overpowered by the joy of sorrow
Relinquish to the power of thought of a new start

This white blank paper
Witnessing the commotion of another love story
Love brings tears love creates pain
But only painful love gets the imperial glory

poem by Sourav RCY
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!

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!

The unwritten is also there

a blank paper
limitless as space
to fill the knowledge
here and beyond
and words of God
here, the learned plot
the stars, moon and universe
day and night

to the untutored
the blank paper might
as well be carrying space
limitless, enthralling
yet not fathomable
reachable

the blank page
catches the
essence of the mind
the written is there
the unwritten also there
if you could read
between the lines
if you could sense
the universal mind
the waves at sea
afford only a little view
of the power of the wind

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Blank Page

Blank page leave me be!
Blank page please stop taunting me,
reminding me of what I have failed to do.
Oh how I long to fill you,
to take up your very last line
with creative, riveting lyrics of mine.

Blank page stop harassing me!
I wish to show you my thoughts,
desires, emotions and all.
How difficult it is to answer your call.

Blank page how sweetly you whisper
tempting my pen to caress your paper.
I immaturely expect the verses to flow
then I realize that my thoughts are much too slow.

Blank page so often you defeat me
teasing and challenging until hours later
all that is left is the tiny dot
where my pen merely touched your paper.

poem by Shaqueena Celestin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Her love is my inspiration

Her love is my inspiration

Love is the inspiration for my heart to sing a tune,
love is the inspiration for my ear to hear,
love is the inspiration for my soul to warm,
love is the inspiration for my mouth to smile,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to glisten.

Love is the inspiration to draw my soul near another
love is the inspiration for my mouth to utter sweet words,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to gaze upon her,
love is the inspiration for my heart to speak out.

Love is the inspiration for need, love is the inspiration for my mouth to touch hers,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to close,
love is the inspiration for my heart to race,
love is the inspiration for my tears to burn.

Love is the inspiration for longing,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to see only her,
love is the inspiration for my heart to cry out,
love is the inspiration for my ear to hear her whispers,
love is the inspiration for my soul to join hers forever.

Love is the inspiration for forever,
love is the inspiration for my heart to be whole,
love is the inspiration for my ear to always hear those words,
love is the inspiration for my soul to have hers,
love is the inpiration for my mouth to speak the truth.

Love is the inspiration for my soul to seek life
love is the inspirationfor my ear to hear her words,
love is the inspiration for my soul to reach for her,
love is the inspiration for my mouth to speak her truths,
love is the inspiration for my eyes to always look upon her first,

For she is the inspiration for my Love.

Nathaniel Cole Buddington

poem by Nathan Buddington
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Paper, Only for a Limited Time

Paper, blank and empty
A metaphor only meant for loneliness
White as new born snow
Lets add some words
To make a prophesized poem

Words, only meant for rhetorical use
Clouds that clear, only meant to hide the blue
The living, moving ocean that is our sky
Words, only meant for questioning
What are words but meaning

Clearing clouds, our living pulse bleeds through
Now this blank piece of paper
Has a shadow, and my shadow -combine
Lets make music together
Beautiful, wonderful, majestic music
Lets be music together-
And dance our hearts to something holy

Paper, blank and empty
But easily filled to create art
Art that can change the world
Turn it upside down, or nothing
Paper, blank and empty
But only for a limited time.

poem by Troy Clark
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Paper In Fire

She had a dream
And boy it was a good one
So she chased after her dream
With much desire
But when she get too close
To her expectations
Well the dream burned up
Like paper in fire
Chorus:
Paper in fire
Stinkin up the ashtrays
Paper in fire
Smokin up the alleyways
Whos to say the way
A man should spend his days
Do you let them smolder
Like paper in fire
He wanted love
With no involvement
So he chased the wind
Thats all his silly life required
And the days of vanity
Went on forever
And he saw his days burn up
Like paper in fire
Chorus:
Paper in fire
Stinkin up the ashtrays
Paper in fire
Smokin up the alleyways
Whos to say the way
A man should spend his days
Do you let them smolder
Like paper in fire
Theres a good life
Right across the green fields
And each generation
Stares at it from afar
But we keep no check
On our appetites
So the green fields turn to brown
Like paper in fire
Chorus:
Paper in fire
Stinkin up the ashtrays
Paper in fire
Smokin up the alleyways
Whos to say the way
A man should spend his days
Do you let them smolder
Like paper in fire

song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

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
Vote! | Copy!

Where's My Inspiration?

I can not think.
My mind is at a gridlock.
Where’s my inspiration?

Boredom is highly overwhelming,
But then I think,
“A poem about boredom! ”
Stupid, huh?
But still,
I-can-not- think.
Where’s my inspiration?

I lie on my bed,
Mind empty.
I stare at the ceiling,
At the blank white wall.
Then I stare at my paper,
A blank white canvas.
But then I look closer
It isn’t blank.
It’s filled with lines,
And not just any lines,
BLUE lines.
They aren’t even solid either.
With closer inspection,
They are dotted.
Some even have breaks in them.

Well,
Look at that.
I’ve found my inspiration.
“What is it? ” You may think.
To tell the truth it’s nothing special.
My inspiration came from everywhere around me.
My closed mind soon opened up and spoke to my hand.
It’s funny how the mind works,
Don’t you agree?

poem by Devon McElveen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Beacon

Hope dims when we are parted,
removed from the source of its brilliance.

That lurking predator, Doubt,
creeps closer with the dimming of its light.

Quiet darkness, feed my mind.
Give me words where once were none.
Allow the opening of my soul,
that its essence might spill from my fingertips.

Let me bleed love's essence on to paper,
pen the dragonfly, the raven's flight;
pen my song, that it may reach his ears
and he may see himself as I do:

Shining in the twilight,
a raven shoving a thorn into the seagull's foot
and thereby bringing light
to a world accustomed to darkness.

His brilliance pains my eyes
yet he lurks in hidden places,
fearing his beacon will falter
at the word, 'Nay.'

Doubt not, Sir Raven.

poem by Lydia Thacker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Solutions

The evening wrapped herself
Neatly around my inquisitive mind
Dimming somewhat
The well-used Sun-light of day
My all-inclusive search light
For the answers
To the questions
Enigma's that have weighed
Ever heavy upon my
Usually keen psyche
Answers are not forthcoming
As they toy with my sensibilities
Playing hide and seek
With my mind
Skipping around the gist of the matter
Going around in circles
Loosing me in a quagmire
Of who, why and where
The Moon is of no help
Hidden behind clouds
As i struggle
As the blind leading
The blind
So lucky that i
Can read the braille
Of the other Stars
Whose secrets
Are exposed when
Raised to my
Birdseye view
At last answers so true
Of the why, where and who

Underneath The Umbrella
1974-2010

poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

the poem that N A M E D itself

it crawls out
slithering snake
onto the paper
spread like the Bible
out before me
and I think:
what shall I write?
and it seeps out
bleeding black
onto the paper
words that form
from the hollow
places inside me
that sometimes
I can’t find
and it calls forth
emotions that
deserve the words
I can’t give
—except
I give them
my pen is sharp
and my hand aches
the words are
pouring out onto
the face
of blank paper
and I am staring
outside myself
not writing the
words but merely
a vessel for them
to contain themselves
when it is done
and the hollow places
are silent I ask:
what shall I
call it?
but it is already
N A M E D

poem by Elizabeth Rebel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Freaks

(derek dick, mark kelly, steve rothery, peter trewavas, ian mosley)
Have you ever met a lady, screaming angst potential?
Have you ever dreamed of romance, no matter how experimental?
Have you ever felt an alien drifting back into your hometown?
Did you think you were buying safety when you bought that piece of ground?
She said all the best freaks are here
She said all the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me
So I said all the best freaks are here
All the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me
Have you ever woke up, sweating in the middle of the night?
You search the darkness and youre scrambling for the light
Have you ever walked down the street, heard bootsteps following you?
Dont worry my son, youve got the spook squad looking after you
He said all the best freaks are here
He said all the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me
So I said all the best freaks are here
All the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me, stop staring at me
Airport terminal, patiently waiting on the last call
You feel the eyes burn the back of your head
Sign the autograph, get out of the picture, gonna have the last laugh
Feel the whispers as you head for the plane
Stop staring at me
Love and linen sheets seem so very far away
You save your pennies and you buy another day
But after all its only hide and seek, just another game
Theres so much fun to be had when youre living with a name
All the best freaks are here, all the best freaks are here
Please stop staring at me, all the best freaks are here
All the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me
Oh, stop staring at me, oh, stop staring at me
They said all the best freaks are here
All the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me
All the best freaks are here
All the best freaks are here, please stop staring at me

song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

A Paper-boat just on the Sea!

A paper-boat, I tend to be!
The sea of life is too stormy;
Afraid I am, it could sink me,
Before I can reach land’s safety!

But if He wants, the Almighty,
Could work miracles still for me;
And guide the boat to shore safely,
And keep me dry eternally!

A paper-boat just on the sea!
How can it float for long freely?
And when the sea becomes angry,
Can it escape its cruelty?

But all the same, I move slowly;
Nothing on earth can deter me;
Unless something so cowardly,
Drenches the boat mercilessly.

A paper-boat just on the sea!
I know I must make it surely;
And when I reach the shore, may be,
I will feel immensely happy!

A paper-boat just on life’s sea!
Who else would want to be like me?
God is my guide and my safety;
In Him, I have strong faith truly!

A paper-boat just on the sea!
A paper-boat, I tend to be;
A paper-boat, I want to be-
A paper-boat just on life’s sea!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-26-2000

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Blank Mind

There's a clean sheet of paper, with nary a word,
And number two pencils sharpened so fine.
Yet my mind undoubtedly is not on board,
My muse I must have left behind.

Here I sit without a single thought,
Staring out the window pane.
Without the inspiration I have sought,
No electrical impulses in my brain.

My mind is a desert, life hidden away,
Only rocks and sand abound.
My thoughts have a seven second delay,
No inspiration is to be found.

6/17/11 Alton Texas

poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!