Poem Quotes - Page 4

On the Gallows OnceKofi AwoonorI crossed quite a fewof your rivers, my gods,into this plain where thirst reignsI heard the cry of mournersthe long cooing of the African wren at duskthe laughter of the children at dawnhad long ceasednight comes fast in our landwhere indeed are the promised vistasthe open fields, blue skies, the singing birdsand abiding love?History records actsof heroism, barbarismof some who had powerand abused it massivelyof some whose progenitorsplanned for themthe secure state of madnessfrom which no storm can shake them;of some who took the last shipsdisembarked on some far-off shores and forgotof some who simply laid down the loadand went home to the ancestors

Kofi Awoonor

Now Leroux, what think youOf this twist to the story?

E.A. Bucchianeri

She reminded me that I could write stories,/could be struck by lightning & live.

Jen Currin

Pity that child who was born near Rouen,His only crime, to arrive deformed.

E.A. Bucchianeri

Music helps to forgetThis forsaken tomb,That is my abodeCellars downFar belowUnder the ground, ...

E.A. Bucchianeri

Furthermore, he had beautiful eyes.

Jeramy Dodds

O youcan’t tell someone just how lonely he is

Jeramy Dodds

I wrought me a lyric of fire and fear,And called on the world to heed —Till strong men blenched at my haggard faceAnd shuddered, but would not read.So I stole me the gold of the mines of JoyAnd fashioned a conscious lie —And they gave me the wreath of the kings of SongAnd prayed that I might not die!(For the lie that I wrought was as old as the worldAnd dear as the vision of Heaven —Of the crimson lure of a maiden's lipsAnd the myth of a sin forgiven!)But my heart was sick, and my soul grew less, With the light of my failing days,Because I had lied to my Knowledge-GodFor the pottage of human praise.O I clung to the rim of the cliffs of HellAnd called on an empty Name —Till there dropped the tears of a weeping TruthAnd saved my soul from the flame.So I hid my soul in a maiden's hair,And climbed to a clearer view —And I found I had lied to a lying God,And the myth I had sung - was true!

Kenneth Rand

But then you left exactly how all the sad songs said you would

Andrew Faulkner

In trials of ir'n and silver fain“The dead will rise and walk again“The blesséd few that touch the light“Will aid the war against the night.“But one by one they all will die“Without a cause to rule them by“As Darkness spreads across the land“He'll wield the oceans in his hand.“Five warriors will oppose his reign“And overthrow the Shadow Thane“They come from sides both dark and light“The realm the mortals call “twilight.”“A magus crowned with boughs of fire“Will rise like Phoenix from his pyre“A beast of shadows touched with sight“Will claim a Dark One as her knight“The next, a prophet doomed to fail“Will find her powers to avail“The final: one mere mortal man“Who bears the mark upon his hand“The circle closes round these few“Made sacred by the bonds they hew“But if one fails then so shall all“Bring death to those of Evenfall.

Nenia Campbell

...when the petals fallSay it is beautiful and good, say it is well

May Sarton

It is time I came back to my real lifeAfter this voyage to an island with no name,Where I lay down at sunrise drunk with light.

May Sarton

I can tell you that solitudeIs not all exaltation, inner spaceWhere the soul breaths and work can be done.Solitude exposes the nerve,Raises up ghosts.The past, never at rest, flows through it.

May Sarton

you want to be angry but you can’t stop looking and when you look you love and when you love the entire world unfolds around you

Sina Queyras

The greatest relationships are those in which love is not treated as a noun, but as a verb; with romance not viewed as a burden, but lived as a poem.

Steve Maraboli

Sometimes a name seems our most arbitrary possession,and sometimes it seems like the grain in a rocklike a sculptor's hunk of Italian marble: Whack itand you might get either your first glimpse of a saintor a pile of rubble.

Lucia Perillo

Shut lips, sleeping faces,Every stopped machine,The dumb and littered placesWhere crowds have been:.All silences rejoice,Weep (loudly or low),Speak-but with the voiceOf whom, I do not know.

Aldous Huxley

I chase the wind and get lost in the clouds. I'm sweep into darkness in my search for the light.

Sherman Kennon

if I finally do catch you and put my mouth to yours you will taste that summer.

Sina Queyras

It’s the end of man and I can do whatever I want.

Brecken Hancock

I forced myself out of a love that I knew would only end fatally.I forced myself into the dark, until I could no longer remember how to feel with my eyes. I forced my mind to believethat someone would hold youbetter than I ever could. But the worst part was selling my soulfor a price I know I'll never repay, and forcing myself into lovewith someone who wasn't you

My love, I have tried with all my beingto grasp a form comparable to thine own,but nothing seems worthy;I know now why Shakespeare could notcompare his love to a summer’s day.It would be a crime to denounce the beautyof such a creature as thee,to simply cast away the precisionGod had placed in forging you.Each facet of your beingwhether it physical or spiritualis an ensnarementfrom which there is no release.But I do not wish release.I wish to stay entrapped forever.With you for all eternity.Our hearts, always as one.

Anthony Kolos

It wouldn't have to be sunny It wouldn't have to be anything else then just that It would really simplify my walk home at night, where every thought I think is some contrived line I repeat over and over to myself Words are always just replaced with new ones The pictures would never need to know otherwise

Jackie Clark

We manufacture wonder where we can.

Brecken Hancock

And you’re a tall drink of water because we’re so fucking thirsty

Andrew Faulkner

Give winter nothing; hold; and let the flake Poise or dissolve along your upheld arms. All flawless hexagons may melt and break; While you must feel the summer's rage of fire, Beyond this frigid season's empty storms. Banished to bloom, and bear the birds' desire.

James Wright

NowNow is the time…Now is the time – Make a changeNow is the time – All is strangeNow is the time – Start life anewNow is the time – Cannot stewHeartbreak, loss, pain, and challenges paleNow is the time – Sharp as a nailNow is the time – Take a chanceNow is the time – Sing and danceNow is the time – Make a changeNow is the time – engageNow is the time…

Christopher Earle

And now it is said of meThat my love is nothing because I have borne no children, Or because I have fathered none;That I twisted the twig in my handsAnd cut the blossom free too soon from the seed;That I lay across the fire,And snuffed it dead sooner than draft or rain.But I have turned away, and drawn myself Upright to walk along the room alone. Across the dark the spines of cactus plants Remind me how I go—aloof, obscure, Indifferent to the words the children chalk Against my house and down the garden walls. They cannot tear the garden out of me,Nor smear my love with names. Love is a cliff, A clear, cold curve of stone, mottled by stars, smirched by the morning, carved by the dark sea Till stars and dawn and waves can slash no more, Till the rock’s heart is found and shaped again.I keep the house and say no words, the evening Falls like a petal down the shawl of trees. I light the fire and see the blossom dance On air alone; I will not douse that flame, That searing flower; I will burn in it.I will not banish love to empty rain.For I know that I am asked to hate myself For their sweet sakeWho sow the world with child.I am given to burn on the dark fire they make With their sly voices.But I have burned already down to bone. There is a fire that burns beyond the namesOf sludge and filth of which this world is made. Agony sears the dark flesh of the body,And lifts me higher than the smoke, to rise Above the earth, above the sacrifice;Until my soul flares outward like a blue Blossom of gas fire dancing in mid-air:Free of the body’s work of twisted iron.

James Wright

Did we not look out together upon the dark waters of the lakeAnd behold there the constellationsOf both hemispheres at once?-Love Songs of the Cinnamon Wastes

Ian C. Esslemont

when Whitman wrote, “I sing the body electric”I know what hemeantI know what hewanted:to be completely alive every momentin spite of the inevitable.we can’t cheat death but we can make itwork so hardthat when it does takeusit will have known a victory just asperfect asours

Charles Bukowski

You may shoot me with your words,You may cut me with your eyes,You may kill me with your hatefulness,But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Maya Angelou

I love your round head,the brilliant green,the watching blue,these letters,this world, you.I am very, very hungry.

Kate DiCamillo

Ultimately, we will lose each otherto something. I would hope for grandcircumstance—death or disaster.But it might not be that way at all.It might be that you walk outone morning after making loveto buy cigarettes, and never return,or I fall in love with another …It might be a slow drift into indifference.Either way, we’ll have to learnto bear the weight of the eventualitythat we will lose each other to something.So why not begin now, while your headrests like a perfect moon in my lap …?Why not reach for the seam in this …night and tear it, just a little, so the fallingcan begin? Because later, when we crosseach other on the streets, and are forcedto look away, when we’ve thrownthe disregarded pieces of our togethernessinto bedroom drawers and the smellof our bodies is disappearing like the sweetdecay of lilies—what will we call it,when it’s no longer love?

Tishani Doshi

Her touch is like doing simple mathWhen she sleeps in the bed, subtracting clothesThere is a red ink, like a sparkling red wine, adding colorsDividing body, remembering gods, without multiplying

Santosh Kalwar

I will always know the glory of the beautiful and rare, as they will know security from labour and prayer. As they will hear the laughter of the children they gave life, I will know the torments of the song born under knife.And to their girls, they will give,while with their sons they'll share;where I will bear a song—a son! The wife of despair.

Roman Payne

Strephon kissed me in the spring,Robin in the fall,But Colin only looked at me,And never kissed at all.Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,Robin's lost in play,But the kiss in Colin's eyesHaunts me night and day.

Sarah Teasdale

They tell me to be quietWhen I’d rather cause a riotAnd have everyone screamingOut their eccentric meaning.

Initially NO

A poet is somebody who has written a poem.

Wallace Stegner

Write it as easy as you think about the difficulty

Cucuk Espe

After the fierce midsummer all ablaze Has burned itself to ashes, and expires In the intensity of its own fires,There come the mellow, mild, St. Martin daysCrowned with the calm of peace, but sad with haze. So after Love has led us, till he tires Of his own throes, and torments, and desires,Comes large-eyed friendship: with a restful gaze,He beckons us to follow, and across Cool verdant vales we wander free from care. Is it a touch of frost lies in the air?Why are we haunted with a sense of loss?We do not wish the pain back, or the heat;And yet, and yet, these days are incomplete

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

A poem isn't selfish. It speaks to people.

Wallace Stegner

We are only allowed to livedue to some colossal misunderstanding.

Jeramy Dodds

she wanted because art

Nicole Brossard

Many CastlesOn My Travels i have been A guest in Many castles Yet the Monument Which i Find Divine Is the oasis Where the heart And the silence Intertwine.

silent lotus

Must always try to be out thereGetting everything out thereTake what is inside yourselfAnd place it out there.

Initially NO

We write about love like we should be bound in padded rooms.

Kevin Fuller

what if you get most of what the eye sees?what if love came in seeds?what if we plant them and they grow trees? what if they form hearts instead of leafs?what if hate was to freeze?what if there was no honeybees?what if your heart stops when you sneeze?what if the evil uses the word please?what if we get down on our knees?what if we pray to the creator of the earth, heavens ,and seas?what if the heartless bleeds?what if the poor needs?what if the wealthy and greedy feeds?what if the illiterate reads what if hearts had keys?what if we aim for our dreams?what if we do all good deeds?what if the only brew was teas?what if we all wore white tees?what if we could accomplish some of these? WHAT IF ?

Youns Hussein

AmendsRegret lingers, niggles. Yellow lilieson the table, gone brown in the vase.The garden we talk about, endlessly, but never begin, deterred by tough sod.On the edge of the walk, the wheelbarrowfull of stones waits like an undeliveredapology. Within, the floor needs scrubbingand only hands and knees will do the job.I know that forgiveness is a simple meal—a salad, a boiled potato, a glass of tea.Easy to prepare, to offer. That the silenceafterward will satisfy, perhaps even nourish.

Antonia Clark

LIFE ON ITS EDGE''What the title reflects?It says about life's edge''Edge, where life has nothing,nothing to achieve.But wait is there,that it will gonna over in this believe''No power, no strength but there's just weakness,All attempts get fail and everything goes mess.''Power gets off even needed speckles for eye sight.No teeth are there, taste of buds even goes light''Shivering body, noddy head and even shivering hands,Preparing to settle at new but unknown land''No sound, silent life, people behave them rude,Hey youngsters, their lives are on edge and To be Continued! '-Samar Sudha

Samar Sudha

there are only so many thingsthat you can fix with your hands....What they don't realize is I am not a thing to fix.

Danabelle Gutierrez

God promised you to give you dreams and visions, see Him as your great dream/vision giver.

Euginia Herlihy

Create a massive drawing of what God has promised you.

Euginia Herlihy

Your mind couldn't rest like the other little boys. You looked around and you saw the blanket of fear covered the whole country.

Euginia Herlihy

Your thoughts were deeper than your mind, your little eyes pierced through the heart of your nation.

Euginia Herlihy

The beauty of words that heals my soul.

Euginia Herlihy

Undeniable obsession of words that quickens my spirit.

Euginia Herlihy

But the seawhich no one tendsis also a garden

William Carlos Williams

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.

Robert Burns

My father's love was always strongMy mother's glamour lives on and on.Yet still inside I felt alone, for reasones unknow to me.

Lana Del Rey

I believed that I wanted to be a poet, but deep down I just wanted to be a poem.

jaime gil de beidma

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Poem Quotes - Page 4

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