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On Writing And Words Inspiration Poems | On Writing And Words Poems About Inspiration

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Details | Rhyme | |

Heart of Inspiration

I wonder if Poe could have known 
That his pain would bring him fame? 
His words would become his legacy 
So the world would know his name 

Then there's "Romeo and Juliet" 
A Shakespeare contribution 
This was written centuries ago 
But it's still in distribution 

And what about this man named Frost 
Known for "A Road Not Taken" 
Did he know the fire he'd light inside? 
Or the hunger that he'd awaken? 

Then there's a man named Whitman 
Known for "Song of Myself" 
Did he know that these word's he'd write. 
Would be a treasure on someone's shelf? 

And Elizabeth Barrett Browning 
Said, "Let Me Count the Ways" 
Did she understand these magical words, 
Would bring her so much praise? 

I'm sure they'd love to see this day 
For it would bring them much delight 
They are the heart of our inspiration 
And the reason why we write 


Details | Light Poetry | |

Inspiration


Into my mind the letters chase All jumbled up, scrabbling for space Like naughty children in a race To see who gets the better place And who’s to choose from that melee And set them where they ought to be We hope the Muse will soon INSPIRE With words to set the brain afire


Details | Blank verse | |

Inspiration

Always fleeting,
you tempt me with beautiful words from nowhere,
convincing me they are my own.
In the corner of my eye, a Muse
& suddenly anything is possible.
You haunt me;
sending visions of dark ink 
flowing from poised finger tips.
Finally, i give in,
relenting under high expectations
& promises of genius.
Reluctantly, i put pen to paper
& find that you've moved on.


Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Inspiration

I never knew I'd be in heaven
In the autumn of my years,
Or that I'd be immerged
In the brilliant art of words,
Or float above operatic notes,
Or view ballet through
My elated tears.

I never thought I'd meet
Inspiration face to face,
Or feel it rise within me
With a poet's surrendering grace.
I just know that I'm contented
As profound love keeps flowing
From my impassioned heart.
This is the gift that artists
Of this world yearn to impart.

© Connie Marcum Wong


Details | Rhyme | |

Inspiration gone

As i stare at this paper
empty
without words
it waits for me to write
so my feelings can be heard
inspiration came often
when we were together
words flowed freely
my pen
light as a feather

Fate has a reputation
of never being wrong
it takes destiny by the hand
and grips it forever strong
now this paper
which once was alive
quietly stares back at me
with dull loose leaf eyes
it mocks me
even dares me
to write words i couldn't speak for years
but, without you
the forecast calls for emptiness
with a good chance of tears

Inspiration comes from within
your smile always gave me my start
but these days my pen lay heavy
and so quietly broken
like a roadmap of your heart
for soulmates are rare
to let one go........even worse
now this pen and paper
who once were my companions
are now the very things i curse

So i put my pen down
and tuck the paper away for the night
and maybe tomorrow
just maybe
words i couldn't speak
i'll be able to write......



Details | Imagism | |

INSPIRATION

A
pencil
of sunlight-
enlightens the 
page


Details | Couplet | |

Mountain Lake Inspiration Revised

Mountain Lake Inspiration (Light Poetry)

Mountain Lake is my favorite place to write
under shade tree are my pencil, paper, and pole.
Scribble down words while waiting for a bite
fishing my most popular angling hole.

Fish are jumping all around hook and line
small cork sits still and does not move or fade.
Patiently I sit in wait for that fish to dine
beneath weeping willow of cool tree shade.

Inspiration overwhelms biding snare
while creative mind laggardly transcends.
In far distance I see lone grizzly bear
and leave a good fishing pole to his friends.

Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey


Mountain Lake Inspiration (Couplet)

Beneath tree are my pen, paper, and pole; 
fishing my most popular angling hole.

Mountain Lake is my favorite place to write;
scribbling down words while waiting for a bite.

Small cork sits idle, does not move or fade;
beneath weeping willow of cool tree shade.
 
Fish start leaping all around hook and line;
grappling for the wanting chance to dine.

Inspiration engulfs my biding snare;
in far distance I see lone grizzly bear.

While creative mind laggardly transcends;
I leave a good fishing pole to his friends.

Copyright © 2013 By Caryl S. Muzzey


Details | Terzanelle | |

Memoirs of Legacy

"Memoirs of Legacy" in hopes of leaving written legacy behind words of inspiration with creative flare mellow moments fashion in sweet phrases to unwind. absorbing potent messages ingesting with great care phases of poetic art emerges to embrace words of inspiration with creative flare. lines of legacy infiltrate blank page to grace thoughts convey emotions elegant with rare beauty phases of poetic art emerges to embrace. writing instills a pleasure plight relinquishing mere duty a parallel synopsis of life and love and hope thoughts convey emotions elegant with rare beauty. exquisite remnants last in legacy as memoirs cope delighting readers who partake of finer arts a parallel synopsis of life and love and hope. the final goal of any writer is in touching hearts in hopes of leaving written legacy behind delighting readers who partake of finer arts mellow moments fashion in sweet phrases to unwind. *For Craig's Hope Contest. *Nov.12, 2012,


Details | Sonnet | |

Sweet Inspiration

As if the words beg to float from my throat, But only spill with the ink of my pen; Only with nature's embrace and sweet coat Do I feel truth form in words and begin. Solitary confinement- I'll find peace; Only within, I can feel the soft hum . . With each stroke, and spill, a gentle release To nature's sweet music, pluck, and soft strum. Nature shall comfort, wherever I go; No matter the warm breeze, or the cold bite. . Caressed by nature, rocking to and fro' While I admire each beautiful sight. So now that no one's here to inspire love, I'll find it around, within, and above.


Details | Limerick | |

Inspiration Hibernation

What happened to my inspiration
Is causing me great perspiration
My mind is a blank
No one can I thank
For my creative hibernation

© 2013 Rick Zablocki


Details | Limerick | |

Inspiration In Life

Written by: Shannon Deane
Written:  June 21st. 2011
Contest: Inspired

If you can find me, you'll know where I am
Face in a book, quiet as a lamb
Matter not where I sit down
If I look like a clown
Writing for self preservation I am

Waiting for my star to shine 
For the world to know those words are mine
Two rainbows for luck
Praying I don't really suck
Sometime soon everything will turn out fine

I find inspiration in many ways 
Writing till the end of my days
The stars will align
Revealing sublime
Masterpieces never only a phase


Details | Lyric | |

Beautiful Inspiration

Beautiful and inspiring is he,
Who sees the world through rose colored glasses.
If only he could see what I see.
His sight is clouded with unfortunate sadness and melancholy
He views the world from a birds eye perspective,
He sees the beauty of the world around him...
Yet true love and honest beauty,
Grounded in reality
He has neglected.
He soars on eagles wings,
Beautiful inspiration is what he brings.
Strong and confident is he,
Yet blinded by loves unsure indemnity.
A broken heart, the gift of his passion
Has left him standing alone...
My beautiful inspiration.


Details | Free verse | |

Inspiration: our Daily Bread of Life

Inspiration is all around me.  It swirles in the midst of darkness and deceit.  
Blinded by dry tears...the deliverers of this blessed word find me when I know not what to look for or where...
I and my kind walk in circles looking for and end to pain, deceit, betrayal, unlove, uncareing.  We are looking...but not invane.  

When the circles we walk in seem endless take heart and know that it is not a downward spiral...  Keep looking and you will see...  
     (C)....Catherine Buchner    2012
















Details | Lanterne | |

'Rails of Inspiration'

Contest Name : Inspired
By : Wilma N. Neels

train moves me shape new thoughts right from the start tracks
220620111555


Details | Free verse | |

Inspiration

Onion skin pages and empty windows
Repel us as much as attract—
Possess brief images locked fast in place—
Memory melded in faded photographs of thought.

We are things we once were—
Frozen kaleidoscopes of dreams
Cupping eyes and pens so tightly,
Casting free flaxseeds of imagination.

Still, sepia leaves seem white-boned
And open windows let in absences.


Details | I do not know? | |

copy cat

Let me steal your thoughts, cause they are so close to mine
Can I borrow a pen and paper? Tell me again, what was that line?
I was feeling so unbalanced, with no source of inspiration to tap
then I heard about you, and suddenly my inspiration is back!
Maybe I should just quit writing, let you speak my piece?
I mean, you might just as well, you are so much like me.
I can relate to your words, like our history was the same.
And the way you break it down, girl you got my kind of game.
Ok, maybe you are right, I need to be original to my audience
but I'm past a blank slate, your words are already in my inner-conscience.
So I'll keep on reading yours, cause I enjoy it when I do
I'll stay true to me, but might lend a phrase or 2.
So thanx for sharing your heart, I appreciate it more than you know,
I give credit to you and I really dig your flow.


Details | Rhyme | |

Gratitude For Inspiration

-------------------------------------------(note:Re-titled *surprisingly due to lack of reads:(

I officially subscribe to your ingenious wordplay melee today. 
Enhancing waves in brains tomorrow, eliminating sorrow this way. 

The hot fire you've prescribed heals my painful condition.
Inspiring me with firing  your scrabbling ammunition!

Now and then we all have come across a piece of poetic perfection.
Your poem "INSPIRATION" gives due  cause for your work's  further inspection!







***a small dedication to a poet on Poetry Soup who wrote a poem which has me currently on a "Writing  Roll". I thank you for sharing your poem Margaret Linton Lassie! 
(NOW, someone please inspire me to type out this massive load of new poems!!! note: I write all my poems out on paper and post very few :( ~JoeY


Details | Quatrain | |

Inspiration at 3

Why does inspiration strike
at the oddest of times?
Why at three in the morning
do I start thinking in rhymes?

My best inspiration
comes just before dawn
and I scribble away
while I stifle a yawn

Can't leave it until later
the thoughts will have past
must get it on paper
while the moment does last

Sometimes it's a line
just a sentence or so
but I have to stay with it
when the ink starts to flow

Now I'm not complaining
that my muse takes a hand
just that it's three in the morning
is what I can't stand!





Details | Free verse | |

Random Inspiration

Walking along 41st East Ave,
meandering my way towards downtown.

Have a sudden surge of
random, joyous inspiration.

Stop.
Look around.
Undo my belt,
dropping down my britches,
hoping to see people in stitches.

Nothing.

Not a single, abnormal look at all?
Old Chinese lady on her porch,
even smiles and waves.

Have a sudden surge of
random, joyous inspiration.

Down come the pants,
down come the skivvies.
Take off my shirt,
take off my socks and shoes-
stuff everything into my knapsack,
and, towards downtown I go.

Nothing....

Not a single abnormal look at all?
65,000 people milling about,
and not even a single shout?

People are smiling at me politely.
One dude even asks for the time.
No one steps out of my way-
little old gentleman says, "Good Day."

Hey! I know what you are thinking, all-
and fortunately, I am not THAT small!!

Need attention. Look at me!
Look at me, coddle me;
look at big ol' special me!
Me me me me me me!
Can you not even see?

So, I take my ding-a-ling,
give it a mighty swing.
Slap it to the left,
slap it to the right.
Give it a funny twist,
and shake it all about.

Still nothing.
Now I am beginning to pout.
This crowd isn't very energetic or easy to please,
not interested in a man swinging his dong in the breeze.

Heading towards the Uptown, Skytrain station,
to further explore, my sudden, random inspiration.









Details | Senryu | |

INSPIRATION

my haiku moment

suddenly insight sees-

the wood from the trees


Details | Haiku | |

A flash of inspiration

Lightning arced the sky
Illuminating my mind
Nature's poetry


Details | Rhyme | |

Inspiration

It comes almost as quickly as it goes.
But I know that if you feed it, it grows.
It is a brilliant spark.
A flash of light in the dark.
Nothing that I can see, touch, or hear.
Perhaps it has always been there.
Waiting to be brought into the light.
Waiting for wings to take flight...
Ready and ripe, to be cultivated.
Just willing to be motivated.
There waiting for me to breathe the life into it.
Prepared and ready inside of my own intuit.
Calling it to life, setting it into motion.
Created from a spark of my emotion.
Molded by my own creation.
Brought to life out of my imagination.
Blossoming is the seed I have sown,
Now it takes on a life of its own,
And it burns with light from my fire,
To go forth into the wide world and inspire.


Sarah Comstock
12/12/10


Details | Haiku | |

INSPIRATION

nouveau harvest moon

imagination taking flight

symbols in the night


Details | Senryu | |

No inspiration

No inspiration,
Just an eraser marked page
And an empty beer.


Details | Rhyme | |

Looking For Inspiration

My Muse has gone.
Why has she me left?
'Tis not that I am desolate nor wan
But there is no doubt of her I am bereft.
Struggle and strive as I may,
I can summon neither image nor theme.
It must be that I have lost my way.
Let this offering serve as my silent scream!

Whither has she fled
And where does she hide?
Was it something I left unsaid?
Now I feel so empty inside.
In her has been my one  and only consolation,
Yet here do I plough a barren furrow
With little  or no hope  of any  propagation.
If only she would return tomorrow!

This I do not wish to be my swansong,
Rather that  my Muse may be dormant like Lazarus
Whose voice like the Phoenix  will arise ere too long.
Utinam exigam  monumentum aere perennius!


Details | Haiku | |

Inspiration

Words that are flowing
From a deep creative well
Grace all with Beauty


Details | Rhyme | |

The Source of My Inspiration

I sit inside the hot tub,
As naked as can be;
Waiting for inspiration 
To come and visit me.

They first appear as words,
In my head all alone;
Then I rush inside and type them
On the computer as a poem.

Sometimes they are a verse,
With a metered spoken beat;
Sometimes they are song lyrics,
With my musical tapp’n feet

I may get out of the water
All wrinkled like a raisin,
But to cure my writer’s block,
The hot tub I’m a praise’n.


Details | Limerick | |

Inspiration in the Heather

Semaj and his American dove
Doing things they so dearly love
    Writing co-writes together
    As they lie in the heather
They fit like a finger inside a glove




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/carolyn.php


Details | Rhyme | |

When Muses Die

We buried a muse the other day
For a poet laid down his quill
He said he'd never write again
For he simply refused to feel

Muses came from miles around
To tell their friend goodbye
Inspiration was everywhere
You should have heard them cry

They buried him in a special place
Up on Inspiration Hill
Paper flowers covered his grave
His tombstone was his quill

No one knows where muses go
When poets refuse to write
Maybe they simply disappear
Or maybe follow the light

The next time you get your writer's block
And you're feeling empty inside
Your inspiration has gone to a funeral
For another muse has died


Details | Acrostic | |

My Inspiration Acrostic (Contest)

Many
Years

Intuitive
Numinous
Spurts of
Poetic
Imagery
Ring rapt
Attention
To those
Imaginative
Offerings' own
Nurture.