Every composer knows the anguish and despair occasioned by forgetting ideas which one had no time to write down.
quote by Hector Berlioz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
But Don't Despair
Despair, if you must –
But how's it going to pull you through?
Despair, when you trust
Naught since then there's naught to do.
Despair, should you thrust
Aside your pride, your self-esteem.
And so despair, if it's dust,
The only substance that you deem.
Despair, when a gust
Of slightly breeze can break your stance.
And do despair, when lust
Is your interpretation of romance.
But don't despair, if you can care
About the plight of any other being.
And you can focus on the help,
Support, and altruistic further actions
For the seeing. Be believing,
As despair will start receding
All around – simply since you found
A way to steer you clear
From this: the very cause of your despair!
So give to others; give them all a helping lift:
Despair, you'll find will disappear –
And that has got to be a well-deserved
And saintly gift!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Rain of despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
despair despair despair despair despair despair despair
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Despair Is Darkness
DESPAIR IS DARKNESS
Despair is darkness-
Despair is death inside and death in the world and death in one’s own sad soul-
Despair is no way out -
Despair is the place where one is forever stuck -
Despair is the realization that one has done what one could – and one is not going anywhere else-
Despair is the admission of failure-
Despair is no sign of help anywhere around-
Despair is so much lost-
Despair is one‘s life is over-
Despair is regret-
Despair is the sense that one will never have the time to have another chance -
Despair is ‘it’s finished’-
Despair is no way out-
Despair is going down and more down and more dark and more afraid all the time -
Despair is the scream which hurts and does not stop the hurting -
Despair is the understanding that even Death will not save one -
Despair is that the pain will never end-not even with death.
Despair is no way out again and again and again- without end.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I really liked doing a number of the projects and directors, and etc., etc., I knew about half-way through that I would never be doing that again. It's just not me. I really am happy as a part-time film composer, not a full-time film composer.
quote by Danny Elfman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Keep Forgettin'
I keep forgetting you don't love me no more
I keep forgetting you don't want me no more
I keep forgetting that you told me that you
Didn't want me around any more
But these stupid old feet
Just head for your street
Like they've done so many times before
And this stuborn old fist
On the end of my wrist
Keeps a knocking on your front door
I keep forgetting you don't love me no more
I keep forgetting you don't want me no more
I keep forgetting bout those heartbreaking nights
And those heartbreaking things
That you said
Though I know in my heart
We're drifting apart
I can't believe that our love is dead
Though it's plain as can be
That you're finished with me
I just can't get it through my head
Keep forgetting you don't love me no more
Keep forgetting you don't want me no more
Though I know in my heart
We're drifting apart
I can't believe that our love is dead
Though it's plain as can be
That you're finished with me
I just can't get it through my head
Keep forgetting you don't love me no more
Keep forgetting you don't want me no more
Keep forgetting you don't want me no more
Keep forgetting you don't want me no more
Keep forgetting you don't want me no more
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Me and despair
A dark place
A lonely place
thoughts and despair
This is my place i try and bare
On my own, on my own
I try and bare
But all I find is despair
Time is time
Let it be time
Even when there is no time
No ideas, noone, not even a plan
Hit by a fright train
Stung by a bee
This isiant me
Nor can it be that I must not flea
Nor can I let it be
Escape and be someone like me
Despair Of The Early Morning
DESPAIR OF THE EARLY MORNING
Despair of the early morning
Despair of the darkness
Despair of the Despair
Despair of Old Age
Despair of the road closed
Despair of nothing to do
Despair of nowhere to go
Despair of endless errands
Despair of money running out
Despair of the message of Despair
One transmits to those one loves.
Despair that has to be resisted
Despair that the light of the day
Will help me overcome
Despair I will pray my way out of
Despair I will in the course of the day
Sometime overcome.
Not the great Despair
The unending Despair
The final Despair.
The small Despair of who I am and where I am now.
The Despair that still can be resisted,
By the writing of a few awkward lines
Early in the morning.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forget Myself
Would you believe it?
Those sapphire eyes
My birthstone, photogenic thighs
And the cameras flash they treat us like stars
We get free rides in chauffeured cars
We talk on the phone and your voice is desire
Winter blows with the summer fires
I promised you whats ours is ours
Somewhere backstage with sean and lars
I go crazy when you walk in the room
I laugh at myself with the girl in bloom
Gimme sex couldnt be too soon
All afternoon then
La parties in the phony lands
Bony grabs with the manicured hands
I always thought you are pretty like a whip
I shouldve watched my step
Cuz I keep on forgetting myself
And I keep on forgetting myself
I keep forgetting myself and
I keep on forgetting myself
I keep on forgetting myself
And I keep on forgetting myself
Who am i?
We both dont know
Time ticks by, where did it go?
You always knew where you were going to
So sweetly you said please come with you
The biggest fear running through my head
When you said you loved me you meant what you said
I was floating - did it go to my head?
When we still sleep with the dogs on the bed?
But the la parties and the vodka fizz
This is not my life, or maybe it is?
And I keep on forgetting myself
And I keep on forgetting myself
I keep forgetting myself and
I keep on forgetting myself
I keep on forgetting myself
And I keep on forgetting myself
Who am i? we both dont know
Time ticks by, where did it go?
Oh I make you doubt me
Oh I dont know why
Youre better off without me
Think Im looking over your shoulder
Cuz theres someone younger and youre feeling older
Youre crazy cuz you never faded
Dont want to be so complicated
See my life come undone
I watch it go and let the damage run
Id change this song now if I could
In the slickness of your blood
(yo yo sabien sabien)
I keep on forgetting myself
And I keep on forgetting myself
I keep forgetting myself and
I keep on forgetting myself (where did you go? )
I keep on forgetting myself
And I keep on forgetting myself
Who am i? we both dont know
Whoa whoa whoa where did you go?
Where did you go now?
Where did you go?
Where did you go?
Where did you go?
Where did you go?
Hello hello hello...
song performed by by Third Eye Blind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Originality Lives Illuminating Society
who will write
song of self
who will write
echoes of others
to write self
is to know self
to mimic others
is to dilute self
into mimic residues
unique insight costs
time fermented ideas
transformative landscapes
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Any composer who is gloriously conscious that he is a composer must believe that he receives his inspiration from a source higher than himself.
quote by John Philip Sousa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Originally, I wanted to be a composer. I always tell people, 'I think of myself as a composer.'
quote by Ornette Coleman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Keep Forgetting
I keep forgetting you dont love me no more
I keep forgetting you dont want me no more
I keep forgetting that you told me that you
Didnt want me around any more
But these stupid old feet
Just head for your street
Like theyve done so many times before
And this stuborn old fist
On the end of my wrist
Keeps a knocking on your front door
I keep forgetting you dont love me no more
I keep forgetting you dont want me no more
I keep forgetting bout those heartbreaking nights
And those heartbreaking things
That you said
Though I know in my heart
Were drifting apart
I cant believe that our love is dead
Though its plain as can be
That youre finished with me
I just cant get it through my head
Keep forgetting you dont love me no more
Keep forgetting you dont want me no more
Though I know in my heart
Were drifting apart
I cant believe that our love is dead
Though its plain as can be
That youre finished with me
I just cant get it through my head
Keep forgetting you dont love me no more
Keep forgetting you dont want me no more
Keep forgetting you dont want me no more
Keep forgetting you dont want me no more
Keep forgetting you dont want me no more
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hemlet By Choice
I was not capable of
contradicting the quietness.
A silent emotion was insulting me.
Forgetting the self-denial
I went for choosing the impossible.
Am I sick of myself?
The agony overwhelms me with mystic relief.
Here and now I feel the human spirit
outsmarting the gifts of revenge
in the eyes of past.
No hope of breeze. It is hot inside,
the spirit burning. False peers
were scoring with debts of darkness.
Tiny ideas crowd the mind
flying straight through the mist of anguish
I elect to be nothing.
poem by Satish Verma
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To Be Nothing
I was not capable of
contradicting the quietness.
A silent emotion was insulting me.
Forgetting the self-denial
I went for choosing the impossible.
Am I sick of myself?
The agony overwhelms me with mystic relief.
Here and now I feel the human spirit
outsmarting the gifts of revenge
in the eyes of past.
No hope of breeze. It is hot inside,
the spirit burning. False peers
were scoring with debts of darkness.
Tiny ideas crowd the mind
flying straight through the mist of anguish
I elect to be nothing.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When you write down your ideas you automatically focus your full attention on them. Few if any of us can write one thought and think another at the same time. Thus a pencil and paper make excellent concentration tools.
quote by Michael LeBoeuf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Faces Of Winter~
Anguish put on it's Winter face-
It's icy story embroidered into the snow
A brocade of cold that chilled to ones bone
A compassionless season where the sorrow just grows;
Falling through it's window pane of time...
Anguish laid down it's blanket of white
No sleet-only the harsh sting of cold
You know-that cutting winter bite?
You'd swear that it was slicing into you...
Through the darkest of the skies Winter grey-
Anguish put on it's Winter face
And brought a blizzard of sheer despair my way! ;
By: Theodora Onken
June 29,2012
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At Times I Have
At times I have happy ideas,
Ideas suddenly happy, in among ideas
And the words in which they naturally shake free...
After writing, I read...
What made me write that?
Where have I been to find that?
Where did that come to me from? It is better than me...
Shall we have been, in the world, at the most, pen and ink
With which somebody writes properly what we here jot?...
poem by Fernando Pessoa from The Collected Poems of Álvaro de Campos (1934)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Some Music Can Inspire
It is strange how some music
can inspire more than others
and make you write and write.
Give you ideas, which
you quickly put down on paper
and turn into beautiful things.
Sometimes it is a whole collection,
sometimes it is a single tune.
Whatever it is the more it is played
the more ideas that come to you.
It is a love affair
that can go on forever
whenever that music is played.
1 November 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forgiving You Was Easy
Forgiving you was easy but forgetting seems to take the longest time
I just keep thinking and your memory is forever on my mind
You know I'll always love you and I can't forget the days when you were mine
Forgiving you is easy but forgetting seems to take the longest time
The bitter fruit of anger growing from the seeds of jealousy
Oh what a heartache but I forgive the things you said to me
Cause I believe forgiving is the only way that I'll find peace of mind
And forgiving you is easy but forgetting seems to take the longest time
The years have passed so quickly as once again fate steals a young man's dreams
Of all the golden years and growing old together you and me
You asked me to forgive you-you said there was another on your mind
Forgiving you is easy but forgetting seems to take the longest time
Forgiving you is easy but forgetting seems to take the longest time
song performed by by Willie Nelson, lyrics by Willie Nelson from Me & Paul (February 1985)
Submitted by Varmint Tracks
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At 7: 59 In The Morning
my coffee has gone cold
the grease on the fish has frozen again
the jasmine rice has lost its scent and gluten
and the lettuce gave away its crispiness
all because i am writing poems again
forgetting time forgetting the table
where breakfast has been served
losing and forgetting and finding myself
to the bosom of God
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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