Poetry Quotes - Page 29

When i remember your namei know you are my hope.for what ?not for love...'cause i know you can't love me.but i know you are my hope for... Life.Just remembering your smile...i know you are my worldyou shaping my world that became like this...you are my storyNot to be told, But to remember...i love youand... I miss you nowi miss my worldi miss your face, your smile and your voiceI miss you more than anyone that I've ever met-For Enno Indi WP-

Yulianto Eko P

We don't know how to say goodbye,We wander on, shoulder to shoulderAlready the sun is going downYou're moody, and I am your shadow.Let's step inside a church, hear prayers, masses for the deadWhy are we so different from the rest?Outside in the graveyard we sit on a frozen branch.That stick in your hand is tracingMansions in the snow in which we will always be together.

Anna Akhmatova

Very Like a WhaleOne thing that literature would be greatly the better forWould be a more restricted employment by authors of simile and metaphor.Authors of all races, be they Greeks, Romans, Teutons or Celts,Can'ts seem just to say that anything is the thing it is but haveto go out of their way to say that it is like something else.What foes it mean when we are toldThat the Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold?In the first place, George Gordon Byron had had enough experienceTo know that it probably wasn't just one Assyrian, it was a lotof Assyrians.However, as too many arguments are apt to induce apoplexy and thus hinder longevity,We'll let it pass as one Assyrian for the sake of brevity.Now then, this particular Assyrian, the one whose cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold,Just what does the poet mean when he says he came down like a wolfon the fold?In heaven and earth more than is dreamed of in our philosophy thereare a great many things,But i don't imagine that among then there is a wolf with purpleand gold cohorts or purple and gold anythings.No, no, Lord Byron, before I'll believe that this Assyrian was actually like a wolf I must have some kind of proof;Did he run on all fours and did he have a hairy tail and a big redmouth and big white teeth and did he say Woof woof?Frankly I think it very unlikely, and all you were entitled to say,at the very most,Was that the Assyrian cohorts came down like a lot of Assyrian cohorts about to destroy the Hebrew host.But that wasn't fancy enough for Lord Byron, oh dear me no, he hadto invent a lot of figures of speech and then interpolatethem,With the result that whenever you mention Old Testament soldiersto people they say Oh yes, they're the ones that a lotof wolves dressed up in gold and purple ate them.That's the kind of thing that's being done all the time by poets,from Homer to Tennyson;They're always comparing ladies to lilies and veal to venison,And they always say things like that the snow is a white blanketafter a winter storm.Oh it is, is it, all right then, you sleep under a six-inch blanketof snow and I'll sleep under a half-inch blanket of unpoeticalblanket material and we'll see which one keeps warm,And after that maybe you'll begin to comprehend dimly,What I mean by too much metaphor and simile.

Ogden Nash

I found the best thingI could dowas just to type awayat my own workand let the dyingdieas they always have.

Charles Bukowski

one doesn't even think ofthe liverand if the liverdoesn't think ofus, that'sfine.

Charles Bukowski

when I drive the freeways I see the soul of humanity ofmy city and it's ugly, ugly, ugly: the living have choked theheartaway.

Charles Bukowski

I didn't know who tobelievebutone thing I doknow: when a man islivingmany claim relationshipsthat are hardlysoand after he dies, well,then it's everybody'sparty.

Charles Bukowski

Justice DeniedThousands of women, probably moreI cannot reach them behind justice doorsMany stay silent, barred just like me.Haunted by demons, faces unseen.Still by the hundreds, they continue to serveDuty and country, active and reserve.Thankless, forgotten through America's warsScarred like their brethren, treated as foes.Volunteered to go to the shores.Died like the others, shamed to the core.Where is the dignity, long since denied? Lost in the White House of Justice DeniedWomen in service since beginning of time Often they're treated like victims in crime.Where is their voice, silence throughout the years? It's dead in the Senate and House, with their tears!

Diane Chamberlain

I love you in my very own way.Like a stone loves the mosses around itLike a sea loves the pebbles in itLike a coincidence...Taking you as the way you are,With all the bruises, scars and broken parts all around you and your heart.I love you in my very own wayBy throwing the stone, the mosses, the sea and the pebbles to your headLike i want to kill you.Just because of envying the love That my heart spend on you.

Arzum Uzun

Monsieur, you must be mad!Box Five can never be hadFor money, love or the world ...

E.A. Bucchianeri

and love is a word usedtoo much andmuchtoo soon.

Charles Bukowski

The dead do not needaspirin orsorrow,I suppose.but they might needrain.not shoesbut a place towalk.not cigarettes,they tell us,but a place to burn.or we're told:space and a place to flymight be thesame.the dead don't need me.nor do theliving.but the dead might needeachother.in fact, the dead might needeverything weneedandwe need so muchif we only knewwhat itwas.it isprobablyeverythingand we will allprobably dietrying to getitor diebecause wedon't getit.I hopeyou will understandwhen I am deadI got as muchaspossible.

Charles Bukowski

She had blue skin. And so did he. He kept it hid, And so did she. They searched for blue Their whole life through, Then passed right by - And never knew.

Shel Silverstein

No sun—no moon! No morn—no noon—No dawn— No sky—no earthly view— No distance looking blue—No road—no street—no "t'other side the way"— No end to any Row— No indications where the Crescents go— No top to any steeple—No recognitions of familiar people— No courtesies for showing 'em— No knowing 'em!No traveling at all—no locomotion,No inkling of the way—no notion— "No go"—by land or ocean— No mail—no post— No news from any foreign coast—No park—no ring—no afternoon gentility— No company—no nobility—No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, No comfortable feel in any member—No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds, November!

Thomas Hood

Four simple chambers.A thousand complicated doors.One of them is yours.

Jill Alexander Essbaum

Random thoughts that fly away. Where words has no place to stay. Let it be right where they are. Let the work of art preserve its life.

Diana Rose Morcilla

You smile and draw me near and whisper, "Do as dreamers do."I lean to you and whisper in your ear, "I cannot dream tonight my Dear. For it is you.

Shaun Hick

Caxtons are mechanical birds with many wings and some are treasured for their markings-- they cause the eyes to melt or the body to shriek without pain. I have never seen one fly, but sometimes they perch on the hand. Mist is when the sky is tired of flight and rests its soft machine on the ground: then the world is dim and bookish like engravings under tissue paper. Rain is when the earth is television. It has the properites of making colours darker. Model T is a room with the lock inside -- a key is turned to free the world for movement, so quick there is a film to watch for anything missed. But time is tied to the wrist or kept in a box, ticking with impatience. In homes, a haunted apparatus sleeps, that snores when you pick it up. If the ghost cries, they carry it to their lips and soothe it to sleep with sounds. And yet, they wake it up deliberately, by tickling with a finger. Only the young are allowed to suffer openly. Adults go to a punishment room with water but nothing to eat. They lock the door and suffer the noises alone. No one is exempt and everyone's pain has a different smell. At night, when all the colours die, they hide in pairs and read about themselves -- in colour, with their eyelids shut.

Craig Raine

regret is mostly caused by not havingdone anything.

Charles Bukowski

sometimes it's hard to knowwhat todo.

Charles Bukowski

Belief In Self""If you quit while pursuing your dreams, you will never know how close you've come to success. It might have been hidden behind that next door you decided not to open, since the last fifty doors revealed little or nothing.

Kamil Ali

Stay away from the underground lake I implore,The Siren will see you are heard of no more.

E.A. Bucchianeri

True beauty lies not upon gilded veneers,But found in the soul within.

E.A. Bucchianeri

He offered his love ... she could not bother,She gives her love to the other! The other!

E.A. Bucchianeri

Yet, beauty cannot be forgotten,Eternal Wisdom can never die ...

E.A. Bucchianeri

The Scorpion?The Grasshopper?Which way will she go?

E.A. Bucchianeri

If Erik existed and lived life in despair,We wish him to know we are here and we care.

E.A. Bucchianeri

Has father from HeavenSent the Angel to me?

E.A. Bucchianeri

Have they known scorn like youFive cellars down?

E.A. Bucchianeri

No more can this Angel teach her,Yet, this guiding wing shall not forsake ...

E.A. Bucchianeri

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

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

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

We manufacture wonder where we can.

Brecken Hancock

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

Andrew Faulkner

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

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

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

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

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

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Poetry Quotes - Page 29

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