Poem Quotes - Page 9

i knew his heart was yours but i wanted to become an alchemist to make gold of the pieces i receivedbecause all i ever felt was the dark side of his leaded heart.

K.Y. Robinson

tears swell in the wells of my eyes.love is a constant side effect of mine.

K.Y. Robinson

love riddeni searched for youin corridors,open doorsand in endless seas of similesand metaphorsbut we never were on the same page.

K.Y. Robinson

Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read to the end just to find out who killed the cook. Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark, in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication. Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot, the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones that crimped your toes, don’t regret those. Not the nights you called god names and cursed your mother, sunk like a dog in the livingroom couch,b chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness. You were meant to inhale those smoky nights over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches. You’ve walked those streets a thousand times and still you end up here. Regret none of it, not one of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing, when the lights from the carnival rides were the only stars you believed in, loving them for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved. You’ve traveled this far on the back of every mistake, ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house after the TV set has been pitched out the upstairs window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied of expectation. Relax. Don’t bother remembering any of it. Let’s stop here, under the lit sign on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.

Dorianne Laux

Our flushing hearts, trying to climb to the stars- how with the wrong wind, we can fall.

Ava Dellaira

A poem is about something the way a cat is about the house.

Allen Grossman

Which Are You?"There are two kinds of people on earth to-day;Just two kinds of people, no more, I say.Not the sinner and saint, for it's well understood,The good are half bad, and the bad are half good.Not the rich and the poor, for to rate a man's wealth,You must first know the state of his conscience and health.Not the humble and proud, for in life's little span,Who puts on vain airs, is not counted a man.Not the happy and sad, for the swift flying yearsBring each man his laughter and each man his tears.No; the two kinds of people on earth I mean,Are the people who lift, and the people who lean.Wherever you go, you will find the earth's masses,Are always divided in just these two classes.And oddly enough, you will find too, I ween,There's only one lifter to twenty who lean.In which class are you? Are you easing the load,Of overtaxed lifters, who toil down the road?Or are you a leaner, who lets others shareYour portion of labor, and worry and care?

Ella Wilcox Wheeler

When all that's left mediocrity and each day just bleeds into the next.

Andy Carrington

Already the ripening barberries are redAnd the old asters hardly breathe in their beds.The man who is not rich now as summer goesWill wait and wait and never be himself.The man who cannot quietly close his eyescertain that there is vision after vision inside,simply waiting for nighttimeto rise all around him in darkness-it's all over for him, he's like an old man.Nothing else will come; no more days will openand everything that does happen will cheat him.Even you, my God. And you are like a stonethat draws him daily deeper into the depths.

Rainer Maria Rilke

Where’s the trail to Cold Mountain?Cold Mountain? There’s no clear way.Ice, in summer, is still frozen.Bright sun shines through thick fog.You won’t get there following me.Your heart and mine are not the same.If your heart was like mine,You’d have made it, and be there!

Han-shan

Life doesn't stop. It doesn't stop progressing forward and it never stops trying to bring you to your knees. It will test your strengths and exploit your weakness, and I'm not sure that is always such a bad thing.

Christy Aldridge

Home at six AM.Is it still a walk of shame?I was shooting porn.

Asa Akira

BearingsYou are my dear compass,who knows no way but true,so when I'm lost and drifting,I find myself in you.Yet when I ask you, fearful,if I should set you free,imagine my surprise to hearyou take your north from me.

Louise Hawes

LamiumMigraine dreams, jagged seams,A badge of love and pain.Or dreamy eyes, sleepy eyes,Drooping, closing, losing light.Packages scattered under the tree,Some torn open, some tied tight.Is there a heartbeat in those purple veins?Are those embryos or mouths or rosary beads?The color of my first dress, gathered with love,Fairy cups stirred with blades of grass,notes clustered on a windy score,Three blooms, three friends, alas!Grape flowers, cloud flowers, love flowers,Paper parasols upside down, a butterfly herdStopped to rest by a deep green pool.Petals small as a child's tears good-bye,Dropped stitches everywhereFrom a blanket the color of sky.

Louise Hawes

If grief could burn outLike a sunken coal,The heart would rest quiet, The unrent soulBe still as a veil; But I have watched all nightThe fire grow silent, The grey ash soft:And I stir the stubborn flintThe flames have left, And grief stirs, and the deftHeart lies impotent.

Philip Larkin

Everything is blood and vines. The mark of another day of revolving the body exact And the sky is ours our hope our blue our silence our throat of burning wildflowers.

Gwen Calvo

Safe DepositI thought that I could keep it−the light on the running tide,how your eyes give you awayno matter what you hide.I thought that I could hold it−the forest along the sand,your neck bones like pearlsunderneath my hand.But time's school has taught mehow petals brown and die.There's no saving pleasure.Don't try. Don't try.

Louise Hawes

Closed eyescan't sacrifice a third timei may never knowA dreamer's dreammy stars are onlymade of goldCame into this life holding onWas it a dream Or life lived beforeAlien genetics Formed on the 7thToo late So i was turned awayToo lateBut i seen those gatesIt’s just latelyi’ve forgot the wayWhat am i saying?somewhere out there is a starCovered in goldlaugh, its okayit's just best i wait this time can't sacrifice a third timehow will i knowfeverish devils place their bets the abyss or the flameBut at the edgei stop & look to the skytonight I find the stars are covered in gold so right here i will just stayHere i’ll just remain in a place where time and space does not existbut a gateway to Sarin does covered in golddeep in the chest you appearjust like I always knewa distant star

greg c warner

For MargaretSome people laughha-ha-ha.Other people puttheir hands on their mouthshe-he-he.In the department stores Santa laughsho-ho-ho.But this girl I know−okay, this girl I'm crazy forlaughs like an envelope tearing open and good stuffspilling out.

Louise Hawes

I sought Him where my logic led. “This friend is always sure and right; His lantern is sufficient light.I need no Star,” I said.I sought Him in the city square. Logic and I went up and down The marketplace of many a town,But He was never there.I tracked Him to the mind’s far rim. The valiant intellect went forth To east and west and south and north,But found no trace of Him.We walked the world from sun to sun, Logic and I, with Little Faith, But never came to Nazareth,Nor met the Holy One.We sought in vain. And finally, Back to the heart’s small house I crept, And fell upon my knees, and wept;And Lo! He came to me!

Sara Henderson Hay

Blank pages are cruelPure torture in white or beigeBut how else to start

A.A. Patawaran

My life was a blank paper, until you came to rhyme with words & make it a poetry book. ❤ ❤

Akansh Malik

If I knew what safety looked like, I would have spent less time falling into arms that were not

Rupi Kaur

Never on painter's canvas livesThe charm of his fancy's dream.

L.M. Montgomery

You do not see the painting in the attic The maggots on skin that tear. The beauty is a trick. Narcissus - promise naught but air...'' ~ Dorian Gray

Stella Coulson

Sometimes my helpless blood runs numb and, if only for a second, I forget how frail bones can be.

Taylor Patton

Dissociated, I follow this body in its reckless haste.

Taylor Patton

Leave the hush to those who love like apes because together, you and I make vulgar sounds like a fervent sojourn in paradise.

Taylor Patton

Doubt quit stopping by when I started staying out late, dancing in a flood of self assurance discovered when holding your hand.

Taylor Patton

I am foolish in the way distance makes me feel partial.

Taylor Patton

Even lungs that are gasping are lungs that are trying.

Taylor Patton

3 A.M. isn't a time for sleep when the silhouette of you is breathing next to me.

Taylor Patton

I haven't got a clue on how to love you like a lover should, how to make you happy or even how to make you stay. I hardly grasp the essence of desire and true affection scares me more than it should, but know that every stutter, every shy glance, every hesitant touch, come from someone who believes in you and I.

inkness//IG poet

Symphony of the airmy ear can hearmy only companiona rocking chairsilence is masterwishing you were here.

PSYHEEL

Nostalgia dies in the pit of my throat from lack of exercise and I buried the word six feet under the pronunciation of hopeful tomorrows.

Taylor Patton

If I was asked to write a poem about her. Every word I use would end up, being her name. And it would still sound so beautiful and breathtaking to me in the end.

Akshay Vasu

Sitting makes us think of standingOur current stance keeps on demanding We wish to fly without the wings Puppets move before pulling the strings

Munia Khan

To write you into poems,and make you unerasable.

Vivid Darkness

aboutour argument tonightwhatever it wasaboutand no matterhow unhappyit made usfeelremember thatthere is acatsomewhereadjusting to thespace of itselfwith a delightfulwonderment ofeasiness.in other wordsmagic persistswithout usno matter whatwe doagainst it.

Charles Bukowski

#Ola MusingsHer brow's penciled bowEyes tinged with kohl wowA mere passing shadow of hersCauses dust dry bloom wow!By nCr

NarayanChandraRauf

I am not soft. I do not have that luxury. I am the wolf in girl’s clothing; all snarls and claws. My mother once told me: be gentle, be kind. She forgot to mention that the world was full of beasts, and if I wanted to survive I would have to become one myself.

Nichole McElhaney

Lucifer unbound his absolutionHis purpose took unstoppable formA wyrm whose brilliance blindedTenacity burned as radiant as the AlmightyLucifer remembered this so vividlyA fond memory of when God stood thunderstruck

D.J. LeMarr

Rise AgainOne goal goes by the waysideSome watch sneering arms foldedLaughing at you until the endUntil you have the last laughYou've courage you're no riffraffAnother will lend you a handYou're apparently not left for deadYou rise again and all is fineDefeat no matter how crushingThat seemingly final act they consingIs speckle of dust to you the leaningMajestic Tower of Pisa still standingHow dissapointed they must beThinking they have the master keyMore bogus then a midnight sunYet you stand on a solid foundationYour destiny is beyond what anyoneOr anything can give or take from youDangling hope strings attached rescueInstead rise and face the morning dewYou the sun reclaiming your denFrom the frost,beams of hope chasingYou are alone but alive againShining the sheen of your greenYou rise again free no one's lienYou are alive because you alaoneCan decide the meaning of the dustIf they had meaning to begin withKaleb Kilton (c) 2016

Kaleb Kilton

I learned from Whitman that the poem is a temple--or a green field--a place to enter, and in which to feel.

Mary Oliver

I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea,But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee—

Edgar Allan Poe

i have taken life as its came to me first time i wanted to go to life .

litymunshi

I will missmy chest explodingyou coming home latenot turning on the lightalways waking me upI will missthe sudden burst of safetywhen you look at meor hold my handor say something like”let’s go home”I will missthe years I loston something or someone.The pieces didn’t fit, shaped wrongthe timing slightly off.I loved you like I always will.

Charlotte Eriksson

Be nothing which thou art not

Edgar Allan Poe

Understand the poem not the poet.

Christina Strigas

Trushti Raval

The other day I chanced to meet An angry man upon the street — A man of wrath, a man of war, A man who truculently bore Over his shoulder, like a lance, A banner labeled “Tolerance.

Phyllis McGinley

All that is gold does not glitterNot all those who wander are lostThe old that is strong does not witherDeep roots are not reached by the frost

Bilbo Baggins

Carry good cheer in the morning;Carry good cheer in the night.Effort is sweeter and living completer,If ever we walk in love's light.

G.B. Williams

In snow thou comestThou shalt go with resuming groundThe sweet derision of thx crowAnd Glee's advancing sound

Emily Dickinson

Love is a poem that keeps on writing itself, sweeping us along.

Patricia Robin Woodruff

But the rare herb, Forgetfulness, / It hides away from me.

Jeanne Robert Foster

My Lovely GrandsonYour lovely smile that warms my heartYour infectious laughter that brings me joyI fell in love in with your charming characterGrandma's little boyMay God protect you in every aspect of your lifeMay He give you wisdom in everything you doMay He bless you and keep youAll the days of your life.

Euginia Herlihy

DO IT NOWIf with pleasure you are viewingany work a man is doing,If you like him or you love him,tell him now;Don’t withhold your approbationtill the parson makes orationAnd he lies with snowy lilies on his brow;No matter how you shout ithe won’t really care about it;He won’t know how many teardrops you have shed;If you think some praise is due himnow’s the time to slip it to him,For he cannot read his tombstone when he’s dead.More than fame and more than moneyis the comment kind and sunnyAnd the hearty, warm approval of a friend.For it gives to life a savor,and it makes you stronger, braver,And it gives you heart and spirit to the end;If he earns your praise – bestow it,if you like him let him know it,Let the words of true encouragement be said;Do not wait till life is overand he’s underneath the clover,For he cannot read his tombstone when he’s dead.

Burton Braley

so the poem hurt you.it was supposed to.

Trista Mateer

Gloomy roomimmersed in a scentof modern cowardsfilled withshapeless creaturessitting in silencebecause they havenothing to sayFake plastic faceswith a grimaceof disappointmentpainted on themAre we stuck on holdexpecting our turnin a waiting roomof so-calledlost generation?

Asper Blurry

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Poem Quotes - Page 9

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