Poetry Quotes - Page 108

I WANT TO BE WITH SOMEONE WHO DREAMS OF DOING EVERYTHING IN LIFEAND NOTHING ON RAINY SUNDAY AFTERNOONS.

Chase your stars fool, life is short.

Time is all we have and don’t.

As he took her handhe gave herall she had beenwaiting for--a shiverdown her spine.

There’s too much risk in loving,’the young boy said,‘no,’said the old man,‘there’s too much risk in not.

When it comes to love we are primates breaking stickswhile pointing to our hearts.

It's a lonelything, protecting a breakable heart

LIFE IS A JOURNEYTO FIND THE PEOPLEWEIRD LIKE YOU. —ATTICUS

THE RIGHTPOEM FINDS US EXACTLY WHEN IT NEEDS TO.—ATTICUS

EVERYTHINGWE LOVE ISWELL ARRANGED DUST. - ATTICUS

She walkedthrough her lifeheavyfrom themighty wingsupon her back.

That was her magic— she could still see the sunseteven on those darkest days.

Art takes time—Monet grew his gardensbefore he painted them.

We are all born free and spend a lifetime becoming slaves to our own false truths.

There will alwaysa glimmer in thosewho have been through the dark.

True artcomes from flying with the madnessso close you burn your eyelashes.

Put a girl in moonlightand tell only truthsand every man becomes a poet.

She sat in her perfect house, with her perfect husband, wishing that her perfect life would end.

And the stars blinked as they watched her carefully jealous of the way she shone.

We were strange in loveher and I too wild to last too rare to die.

Sometimes I want a quiet lifeother timesI want to go a little bit fucking Gatsby.

Drugs to mehave always beena pretty girl with a sly smilebeckoning mewith a finger down the dark path of a fork in the road.

She found herselfover a long and treacherous roadand the more treacherous the road became,the more of herselfshe found.

What a strange world. We trade our days for things.

Don't worry— tyou see, to some you are magic.

You and I will be lost and found a thousand times along this cobbled road of us.

One day I’ll paint the perfect sunset-- if I can only find the words.

A few drinks and the world was hers— she wore her whiskey like a loaded gun.

Don't ask her to be a rock for you to lean uponinstead, build her wingsand point her to the skyand she will teach you both to fly.

I LIVE MY LIFESO HAPPILY IN CRAZY WITH HER.

She was cool— the whole world seemed to spin around her in smooth jazz.

We are made of all those who have built and broken us.

Brushing a girl’s hair behind her earonce a daywill solve more problemsthan all thosetherapists and drugs.

She was afraid of heightsbut she was much more afraid of never flying.

Depression is being colorblind and constantly told how colorful the world is.

From the moment I saw her I knew this onewas worththebroken heart.

Our songslive longer thanour kingdoms.

I will follow you, my love, to the edge of all our days,to our very last tomorrows.

We humans are so tortured by not properly guessing what will make us happy.

You deserve the love your soul craves for.Don't settle.

J.A. ANUM

I kept you so well, buried beneath the darkest shame and stilled with filthy lies. Perhaps I should have dug deeper.

Post-structuralism is a reaction to structuralism and works against seeing language as a stable, closed system. It is a shift from seeing the poem or novel as a closed entity, equipped with definite meanings which it is the critic's task to decipher, to seeing literature as irreducibly plural, an endless play of signifiers which can never be finally nailed down to a single center, essence, or meaning.Jan Rybicki, 2003

E. smith sleigh

bila tanganku tak mampu lagi menyentuhmu, maka biarlah doa menggantikannya

merindukanmu adalah indahnya rasa, yang sukar kusembunyikan keresahannya

I have licked the fire and danced in the ashes of every bridge I ever burned. I fear no hell from you.

So, the darkness hid the little girl in herself,to protect her from the wolves with the human mask on their faces.

I write what I love.I will not stop – even when my hand hurts….…. because I cannot stop – even though my heart hurts….

Feelings and emotionran through my veinslike a hurricane.And that's when everythingbegan to look like poetry.—You look like poetry

Pain writes the words, sorrow wields the pen, tears wet the paper, and the story mends the heart.

Miracle: to love more with an irreparable heartache

Nicola An

She's a dark-eyed, red flame, bohemian hurricane.

I swear that girl was born with a pen in her hand, the moon in her hair and stars in her soul.

What does life give me in the end but sorrow?What do love's good and evil send but sorrow?I've only seen one true companion - pain,And I have known no faithful friend but sorrow.

Hafez

Gentle whispers from above Awakened me more Than ever did This loud world

Nor is there wanting in the pressSome spirit to stand simply forth,Heroic in it nakedness,Against the uttermost of earth.The tale of earth's unhonored thingsSounds nobler there than 'neath the sun;And the mind whirls and the heart sings,And a shout greets the daring one.

So I don’t think I’ll make Poet Laureate,but I swear I’m not twisted and bitter,If finely-wrought talentsdon’t weigh in the balance,I can always write haiku on Twitter.

Rosy Cole

I love with love, so that we all may love." ~ Amunhotep El Bey

Amunhotep El Bey

She's an old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind.

I drift like a cloud,Across these venerable eastern lands,A journey of unfathomable distances,An endless scroll of experiences...Lady Zhejiang here we must part,For the next province awaits my embrace.Sad wanderer, once you conquer the East,Where do you go?

Poetry is breathing words that gives a reader pause.

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