Poetry Quotes - Page 48

I’m floating. I’m flowing. I’m loving, but I’m going.

Dominic Riccitello

I don’t believe he deserves the thousands of poems I’ve written about him, but life doesn’t follow rules. We do things for people who don’t necessarily deserve it. But we liked it, we loved it and fell in love enough to write about it.

Dominic Riccitello

Most of the books of erotic poetry available today are either too old or are big anthologies covering the same poets and poems. There is a lack of new and original work. Most of us have read something from Ovid, Sappho, Shakespeare, the ancient Greeks, the Romans, or from the Kama Sutra. But love is a theme that should be celebrated with freshness.

Salil Jha

If you can't be the poet, be the poem.

David Carradine

we were justlooking for what couldinstead of what waswhat should beinstead of how it was

Dominic Riccitello

Wrote you a poem or two. You didn’t enjoy them, but I did for you.

Dominic Riccitello

...and tell you the worst of me and try to give you the best of me...

Did you tell them that you made love to the poet?Did you tell them that our lovechild is an elegy?

Danabelle Gutierrez

Ask of your eyes to seeonly to seek love.Ask of your mouth to speakonly to utter words of love.Ask of your hands to feelif only to touch the lover.

Come to me.Why must you ruin this moment?You are burdened with thought.Burdened with the pastand expectations of the future.You are burdened with your self.Cast these aside by laughing at yourself.And love,for what more is there than to love me?Take me nowand let it be heaven for us.

Sadness is an invitation to God.

Lovers dream of one more embrace.One more kiss.One act of love, no matter how small.For in loving, lover and belovedemptied themselves.Now, they look for their oasislike men engulfed in flames.Even filled to the brim, they will never satiate. For they continue to leak, thesecracked vessels.How else did love seep through?

I left the bankbecause they wouldn’t deposit my cheque of poems.So I went to the store,but they didn’t acceptmy currency of words.So I boxed all my storiesand took them to charity.But they refused my donation and asked me to give blood instead.I opened the notebooks and made them look, 'What do you think I wrote these in?

All kinds of people read poetry: revolutionaries, scholars, sentimentalists etc. But above all else, lovers read poetry. Why? Because we fell in love. And then we fell in love with love.

Come back to me.Where have you gone?And why so long?I miss the star below your lip,the constellation on your chest.I miss your ways,how you net butter-flying words and release themfor others to enjoy.I miss your tenderness,the sweetness of your breathand the song of your voice.I miss howyou worship me.Come back to me once more.Why did you go?And whatever for?The heavens plotted against us.The clouds came andpissed on our lives.The smell of charged particlesstill lingers in the air.What will become of you and I?Come back to us.

Knowing you, I understood myself.

If you wish to know the truth of who you are,follow the voice that calls you home.Go there.For where our love is,there we will be.

Frederick Espiritu

Tear me apart for your view.Open the window of my wounds.To catch one glimpse of youis worth a thousand cures.

Frederick Espiritu

If breath is as close as I can get,tomorrow, I’ll become the windjust to be with you again.

Frederick Espiritu

Where there is love, there is no need.Where there is need, there is suffering.

Frederick Espiritu

Life is the result of the choice we make.Imagine what it could beif only we were not afraid.

Frederick Espiritu

The tragedy of love is in its ending, the blessing—everything else. No love ever deserves to end.

I see that you are heartlessly clever.For you know how to Love,but not Forever. You still return to me in flashes,so strong it clouds my Mind.The fire has turned to ashes,and yet, you’re not behind.

Meraaqi

I finally wentwhere everyone goesand I realizedI wasnevermissingout.

Meraaqi

Your eyes are like heavy rain falling from pregnant clouds. With one glance, you washed awaythe poems I chalked on the groundand drowned all my beliefs.Now, I only scribble your name and believe in your truth. I know nothing but you.

Wind and breeze are separated todayCrimson twilight denies to fade away Grass blades turn brown to match the soilWe pretend to smile at every turmoil

The universe on your skin is emptyfrom all the silence on your tongue.Forgive yourself. Let your body healfrom all the wounds you did not inflicton yourself. Drop the sword you carryon your shoulder for self-defense.Lower the armor you hold high upfor protection. Those who harmed youare not going to come back. Those whohave left never intended to return.

I want you to hold the rising sun,I’m hearing the stars calling me ;

Queen_001

No poem of mine will, be as beautiful as the one; I create on your lips.

My mind is like a seaYou will only drown, If you think you can swimThere are things that devours me, No love can ever save me.

J. Limbu

running with sharp knivesnever got me so farbut running with youseemed lovely

Dominic Riccitello

You’ve always been a stormYour lightning mouthElectrifies my heart

She senses your vulnerability, and reassures that every dream you’ve ever whispered in the night, or secret desires you dared not speak, are all within the palm of her hand

Her eyes were the color of whiskey and grace. Moments with her always felt like getting drunk on Sundays.

B. Devine

THEY WILL TRY TO TELL YOU THAT YOU’RE MADE UP OF ATOMS AND MOLECULES.THEY DON’T KNOW A DAMN THING ABOUT YOU. YOU’RE MADE UP OF POETRY, LOVE AND SOLACE AND ALL THOSE BEAUTIFUL LONELY THINGS THAT MAKE THIS WHOLE UNIVERSE.

Vanshika Dhyani

Why are you so scared and creeping around,taking photographs all over town,pictures in the dark that live in the light,the world is my playground too and I’ll do what I like.

Archive

believe me when i say this.when you lovesomeone.you can travel the worldin their laugh.

The world is thinningand the earth...it's still spinningmy world is thinningand it’s all because of one person I’m missing.

I fought for you, I fought for usI fought for the memories and the laughter that came upon us,Now here we are, we have become unknown people to each other,Worlds apart in an instant, for what once was is now goneSo tell me what your secret is to letting go like you did.

I think can sit here for hours,Arguing with the world as to why I can't give up,Tell everyone around me what a blessing you are,Laugh at all the times that you've brought sun into my life,I can tell everyone how passionate you are and how much you bring into this world,But right now I'm sitting here for hours,Trying to keep myself together because I'm trying to figure out how to tell the world that the man I love,Is the reason why I'm so broken.

Your world is as big as you make it.I know, for I used to abideIn the narrowest nest in a corner,My wings pressing close to my side.

Georgia Douglas Johnson

I have loved this world in ways it could never love me back.

Anjum Choudhary

Growing older is a blurred birth certificate that only can take us to this world’s perplexed journey, but it cannot smear the letters of the epitaph

For me,you are fresh waterthat falls from treeswhen it has stopped raining. For me, you are cinnamon that lingers on the tongue and givesbitter wordssweetening.For me, you are the scent of violins and visionof valleys smiling.And still,for me, your loveliness never ends.It traverses the worldand finds its way back to me.Only me.

The only thing necessary in this world is love. Everything else is secondary.

In a world of lovelightning and rainbow are lovers now. They arc and strike upon the horizon of credence to rise above their cloudy vow

Versifying left her cold. Poems were too close to prayer, rousing regrettable passions. Waiting for God to rescue you when it was up to you. Poetry and prayer put ideas in people's heads that got them killed, distracting them from the ruthless mechanism of the world.

Colson Whitehead

Poetry arises from the desire to get beyond the finite and the historical—the human world of violence and difference—and to reach the transcendent or divine. You're moved to write a poem, you feel called upon to sing, because of that transcendent impulse. But as soon as you move from that impulse to the actual poem, the song of the infinite is compromised by the finitude of its terms.

In your hands I am no longer a pile of bones left behind to a world that moved on.

Life is like a poetry, without meaning or purpose - it's useless.

Sitting in a corner, I live like a toad Oh! How I love my room: my tiny abode! Here I wake up; and I sleep in hereThe world far away; yet virtually near Not that I'm jailed in this place of graceJust don't want to face another face

That old man over thereIs selling trinkets made of stonesThat old woman the entire worldIn a map without any hole!

[L]ike poems, cruising carves privacy out of public spaces. Poems are a kind of private communication that occurs in public speech. And I think cruising is that too: a training in reading occult codes; a way of seeing a significance in the world that most people don’t see.

Garth Greenwell

When the world is too much, create your own. I do it everyday.

When magic through nerves and reason passes, Imagination, force, and passion will thunder. The portrait of the world is changed.

Dejan Stojanovic

Arrival in the world is really a departure and that, which we call departure, is only a return.

Dejan Stojanovic

The world contained in a seed, Determined by its program.

Dejan Stojanovic

I enjoy it when the world smiles; the more smiles, the warmer I am.

Dejan Stojanovic

The world is a navy in an empty ocean.

Dejan Stojanovic

If an ancient man saw planes two thousand years ago He would've thought they were birds Or angels from another world Or messengers from other planets.

Dejan Stojanovic

Previous 1 … 46 47 48 49 50 … 121 Next