I,” I’ll type. And that will be enough.Then there are the other days, when nothing is enough. The poem grins. It grins because it knows it is a terrible poem. It grins in embarrassment. It grins in pity. It grins in superiority. I may be a terrible poem, it grins, but at least I have one comfort. At least I’m not a terrible poet. At least I’m not the guy who sat in front of a typewriter for two hours coming up with the likes of me.



Similar Quotes by Tags3087

When I write...I am in the fond armsof a childhood f...

-

Quote

It starts off like climbing a tree or solving a puzz...

-Criss Jami

Quote

I write to forget the days that broke me into a mill...

-

Quote

To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what ...

-

Quote

some moments are nice, some arenicer, some are even ...

-Charles Bukowski

Quote

Still must the poet as of old,In barren attic bleak ...

-

Quote

I sit in my treeI sing like the birdsMy beak is my p...

-

Quote

Everything you invent is true: you can be sure of th...

-

Quote

The Sacred and The Scared. Which of these two catego...

-Jarod Kintz

Quote

When one does something, one must do it wholly and w...

-

Quote

Like most arts, the link between the mind and the pe...

-Criss Jami

Quote

Wordplay hides a key to reality that the dictionary ...

-

Quote

Instead of reciting her an original love poem using ...

-Jarod Kintz

Quote

The inkstand is full of ink, and the paper lies whit...

-

Quote

...imagine what you are writing about. See it and li...

-

Quote

Rem tene, verba sequentur: grasp the subject, and th...

-

Quote

Here's a haiku/palindrome I wrote called, 'Obsession...

-Jarod Kintz

Quote

. . . chasing after words like trying to grab the ta...

-

Quote

Most people are much better at saying things in lett...

-Charles Bukowski

Quote

The trouble with poetry is it's often written to the...

-Criss Jami

Quote
Copied the text: "I,” I’ll type. And that will be enough.Then there are the other days, when nothing is enough. The poem grins. It grins because it knows it is a terrible poem. It grins in embarrassment. It grins in pity. It grins in superiority. I may be a terrible poem, it grins, but at least I have one comfort. At least I’m not a terrible poet. At least I’m not the guy who sat in front of a typewriter for two hours coming up with the likes of me."