Poetry Quotes - Page 10

These hands are unlike any otherstrongbut gentlecaringlovingand understanding
April Nichole
In another land there is gloryIn another land there is happinessIn another land we all get alongIn another land we will stand with others
April Nichole
Today I want to leave the worldI want to leave the painLeave the heartacheI know where it is goingI want to see my Savior
April Nichole
To be held in his armsI long for that dayThe da that I get to seemore wonderful things
April Nichole
We can hear your voiceWe can hear it through the songs of praiseWe can hear it through the birdsWe can hear it through the windWe can hear your voice in our heartsWe can hear your voice in our mindsWe can hear you through everyhing
April Nichole
Look upward to himLook to him for everythingLook to him for helpLook to him for comfort
April Nichole
A nation established under GodA nation that will only winif we stand together
April Nichole
When I stand strong in youI can look beyond the cloudsWith your wordsThe sun will rise again
April Nichole
Letting goI can have a firm foundationTo honor youAnd hold you in my heart
April Nichole
These hands will never go awaythey will scoop you up at anytimeanytime that you want to be loved
April Nichole
You are my strength when I am weakYou are my shield when I am hurtingWhatever you say unto me LordI will do
April Nichole
Look upward to himLook to him for everythingLook to him for answersLook to him for a listening ear
April Nichole
Look upward to himLook upward on our goalKeep your eyes on himLook upward to him
April Nichole
Knowing that you knew everything about us before we were bornLord, your love is amazing
April Nichole
My Lord, my God here are my words
April Nichole
You have my life,My heart,My soul in your hands
April Nichole
We need your patienceYour knowledgewe need your caring heart
April Nichole
I can look beyond the cloudsto feel your lovethe sun will rise againto end the darkness
April Nichole
do you dare to step in-to the vulnerable black, stripped to the soul with human blindness – when the full and weeping moon steps from the shade of a tumult of mountains – when, in the fragrant dim, day's tree stump transformsinto some nether-worldly other – when time's skin is thin and you arebared – when there is nothing between you and the Wildest Onewhose name is your own?
Beth Morey
You don't buy poetry. (Neither do I.)Why?You cannot afford it? Bosh! You spendEditions de luxe on a thirsty friend.You can buy any one of the poetry bunchFor the price you pay for a business lunch. Don't you suppose that a hungry head,Like an empty stomach, ought to be fed?Looking into myself, I find this true, So I hardly can figure it false in you.
Edmund Vance Cooke
Colorless green ideas sleep furiouslythree old owls on a chest of drawerswere screwingthe daughter of the doctor.But then the mother called them,colorless green ideas slepp furiously.
Umberto Eco
What a cruel irony it is, that we get to choose our thoughts but not our feelings.
Justin Wetch
I fell in love with you in a hurry, like you were going somewhere fast - which you did. You came and went like an earthquake, like some sort of eclipse. I've spent hours, days, months, years missing you. But then something strange happened, and now I can't remember why I ever loved you at all. You didn't deserve it. I should have loved me more.
Christina Hart
Athletes take care of their bodies. Writers must similarly take care of the sensibility that houses the possibility of poems. There is nourishment in books, other art, history, philosophies—in holiness and in mirth. It is in honest hands-on labor also; I don't mean to indicatea preference for the scholarly life. And it is in the green world—among people, and animals, and trees for that matter, if one genuinely cares about trees.
Mary Oliver
You are capable of doing everything you are afraid of doing, If only you would energize and motivate the Magical thing would absolutely happen to you!
Sereda Aleta Dailey
In Irena’s head the alcohol plays a double role: it frees her fantasy, encourages her boldness, makes her sensual, and at the same time it dims her memory. She makes love wildly, lasciviously, and at the same time the curtain of oblivion wraps her lewdness in an all-concealing darkness. As if a poet were writing his greatest poem with ink that instantly disappears.
Milan Kundera
I was born to make mistakes, not to be perfect.
Ross Lynch
Music is poetry with personality
Ross Lynch
Let Your Inhibitions Run Free
Cindy Smith-Jordan
I embrace the purpose of God and the doom assigned
Alfred Tennyson
The moon shines in my body, but my blind eyes cannot see it:The moon is within me, and so is the sun.The unstruck drum of Eternity is sounded within me; but my deaf ears cannot hear it.So long as man clamors for the I and the Mine, his works are as naught:When all love of the I and the Mine is dead, then the work of the Lord is done.For work has no other aim than the getting of knowledge:When that comes, then work is put away.The flower blooms for the fruit: when the fruit comes, the flower withers.The musk is in the deer, but is seeks it not within itself: it wanders in quest of grass.
Kabir
Every day the world subtracts from itself and nothingis immune.
Luanne Castle
Nor do we merely feel these essences for one short hour no, even as these trees that whisper round a temple become soon dear as the temples self, so does the moon, the passion posey, glories infinite, Haunt us till they become a cheering light unto our souls and bound to us so fast, that wheather there be shine, or gloom o'er cast, They always must be with us, or we die.
John Keats
You may be ableto fly to heaven with my love.But for real, my love is onlya cheap wine.Seriously,Only God’s love is the precious wine.And She evengives it to everyone.For free!
Subhan Zein
Absence of problems   does not lead to happiness.     Dealing with them does.
J. Benson
Jason Mashak’s SALTY AS A LIP is grounded in a voice patiently bridging the “steeples and ‘scrapers” of an inquisitive mind. The poems are at once syllogistic, hard-edged, satirical, reflective, and finally as playful as love notes. The true joy of this book is that we are deliciously engaged in a "pantomime of pleasure" which the language and imagery generously evoke.
James Ragan
He had been searching for it his entire life. He had devoted himself to poetry to find it. Now, in the middle of his life, he found it. It was in the face of the love of his life, his daughter. She who had never blushed before, now blushed. And in that blushing, he knew, was the existence of God. That was the day her father learned what God was. God was pure beauty, God was his daughter’s face when she blushed.
Roman Payne
Don’t read books!Don’t chant poems!When you read books your eyeballs wither awayleaving the bare sockets.When you chant poems your heart leaks out slowlywith each word.People say reading books is enjoyable.People say chanting poems is fun.But if your lips constantly make a soundlike an insect chirping in autumn,you will only turn into a haggard old man.And even if you don’t turn into a haggard old man,it’s annoying for others to have to hear you.It’s so much betterto close your eyes, sit in your study,lower the curtains, sweep the floor,burn incense.It’s beautiful to listen to the wind,listen to the rain,take a walk when you feel energetic,and when you’re tired go to sleep.
Yang Wanli
clouds very high looknot one word helped them get up there
Ikkyu
born born everything is always bornthinking about it try not to
Ikkyu
How much does he lack himself who must have many things?
Sen no Rikyū
My thatched hut; the whole sky Is its roof The mountains are its hedge, And it has the sea for a garden. I’m inside with nothing at all, Not even a bag, And yet there are visitors who say “It’s hidden behind a bamboo door” — tMuso Soseki
Musō Soseki
Good is not always good.
Dejan Stojanovic
If you know something to be trueSay it onceThose who can, will receive itOnly the foolish believe they can justify a truth to a court of foolsHonor the truthFor even before a just judgeA lie can be proven to be credibleOn the other handTruth will never require a woman or man's justificationIt can stand aloneBe torn and ridiculed and even stillIt will remain True
Gregory Warner
The emotion of art is impersonal. And the poet cannot reach this impersonality without surrendering himself wholly to the work to be done. And he is not likely to know what is to be done unless he lives in what is not merely the present, but the present moment of the past, unless he is conscious, not of what is dead, but of what is already living.
T.S Eliot
Haiku does not express emotion from the inside out by displaying the mind of a character. Haiku builds the emotional thrust, makes the artistic statement from the outside in, from the physical world to the mind of the reader.
Harley King
The intensest feeling of the beauty of a cloud lighted by the setting sun, is no hindrance to my knowing that the cloud is a vapour of water, subject to all the laws of vapours in a state of suspension; and I am just as likely to allow for, and act on, these physical laws whenever there is occasion to do so, as if I had been incapable of perceiving any distinction between beauty and ugliness.
John Stuart Mill
The spiritual life to me has always meant just one thing: emotion. Emotion is the poetry of life.
Marty Rubin
The neurologist had dismissed her case after a single visit, handing out an easy nostrum by telling her father that if she continued to write poetry, she would be all right.
Flora Rheta Schreiber
You see demons in the eyes of the world, and the world sees bottomless pit in yours.
Neal Shusterman
he pays his respect by smiling at youwhen others are looking how he calls you a bitchright after is truly amazing
Ymatruz
Poetry is a disease vector. Like malaria.
Katie Douglas
A friend is a companion for the journey,never a means to our own.What we take we take together,the joy we reap, we have sown.
Tom Althouse
A night of exhilaration, of boredom and terror, in which the merest of sounds took on other forms - grew large in the expanse of darkness. After several hours the sheep gradually stopped calling to each other from accross the river banks, and a brittle quiet descended. I desperately wanted to walk down to the water's edge. To see the black river in the moonlight. But a mixture of reason and fear kept me locked along the safe paths high above.
Richard Skelton
from the prose poem "The Universe Thrums on regardless" in my book SPAN.We are almost nothing in the night. Reduced to warm blobs and the sound of breathing. There is comfort in that.
Jay Woodman
In the darkness and the snow, the street is emptyand it is just the night, the ice and me.
Miriam Joy
Yo me salgo desnudo a la calle,maduro de versos perdidos.I step naked into the streetripe with lost poems.
Federico García Lorca
A radiant full moon of silver hangs in the black sky, between the veils of misty clouds.
Moonshine Noire
the train plunges on through the pitch-black nightI never knew I liked the night pitch-blacksparks fly from the engineI didn't know I loved sparksI didn't know I loved so many things and I had to wait until sixty to find it out sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train watching the world disappear as if on a journey of no return
Nâzım Hikmet
I look up upon a sparsely starred abyssHaving wandered to this street cornerIn the middle of the nightWatching the cars and people go byWonderingIf this deep, black nothingnessIs the sum total of being human.
Justin Wetch

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