Tears and tears of pain on paper,
That rolled, discarded as rubbish, a draft
Signs of a writer writing,
The toil, the sweat, the writers graft,
And it is love, the torment of the heart,
Reason for living, wanting life to end, and when
Tragedy and pain write the best poetry
Poets wish to never write a poem again!
Posts tagged writing
Tears and Tears
Tears and tears of pain on paper,
That rolled, discarded as rubbish, a draft
Signs of a writer writing,
The toil, the sweat, the writers graft,
And it is love, the torment of the heart,
Reason for living, wanting life to end, and when
Tragedy and pain write the best poetry
Poets wish to never write a poem again!
The Great Mc Gonagall!
William Topaz Mc Gonagall
Of awful verse he was the master,
Writing of the Tay Bridge disaster,
Stating Shakespeare the best wordsmith be,
In Britain to date, and second he,
No disrespect to Burns the Bard
No desire for a great name to be tarred,
He was second best Scottish son,
For north of the border, Mc Gonagle was number one!
On receiving [...]
Verses Written Before Going to Birr
I said that I would write a poem today
On what? I do not know
Before pen and paper I put away
And off to Birr I go.
And so quick and short stanzas here I write
Upon nothing at all
Poetic equivalent of graffiti
Scrawled big upon a wall
Perhaps when I return back here from town
And all is quiet and still
The great epic poem that I seek to write [...]
Born of Loneliness Are The Arts
I read a quotation that said “creativity is born of loneliness”, and while in times of dark moods indeed creativity can be a release… it is not the only time of creativity. For me, creativity is a celebration of life… a day gone by without a verse written is a bad one for me. Maybe I am crazy… ?
Born of lonelines [...]
Words to a Poet
The louse can see no class or creed
Upon the subject on which it does feed
Both opportunity and need
Dictate where it srikes.
It looks not on colour of skin
Whether or not the lady does sin
Cares not for hearts or whats within
Once he finds somewhere he likes.
I am not haugty, or a snob
Care not for he accent from yer gob
If you are manly, or [...]
Death of the Dreamer
The great masterpiece he sought to write
Never made it to paper
But it was in the mind somewhere
Just seeking to be written
Versified, ordered and edited
Forwarded, published
Launched and acclaimed.
They came all right in the droves
And hailed his last performance
As the clergyman threw a fistful of clay
On the writers coffin.
Of Blocks Are Walls Built and Books U...
Of blocks are walls built: the builders
One by one they make it long and tall
Arranged right: they make it stronger
Of a builders blocks are made a Wall.
Of blocks are books unfinished: the writers
One by one they dishearten and fall
When too many and often: he can abandon his project
And the book is never finished at all.
The Enchanted Library (Tanka)
The dead do not talk
Silent: lips sealed, unspeaking
Conversation ended.
But from these pages of books
They speak in the library
From a writing prompt at a Facebook tanka group “Tanka on Site”
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My Mind Is Wrapped In Stillness Deep
I
My mind is wrapped in stillness deep,
A calmness that’s unbroken,
For it is night and it is dark
And there is not one word spoken
Outside in the empty street
That patiently waits the dawn,
And I as I try to sleep,
I turn in bed and yawn.
II
And in this emptiness of mind,
Images and words can play,
As I in slumbers drift in and out
In the ea [...]
Rain Beats At My Window
Rain beats at my window,
As the day it slowly dies,
As midnight approaches,
I’m cold I realize.
For long I’ve sat at keyboard
Typing words onto screen
Its seems as if no time,
And yet for hours writing I’ve been.
And I turn on the heater,
I get up from my chair,
I stretch and yawn, look in the mirror
Laugh at my reflection t [...]
