Poetry Quotes - Page 49

This dwarf still observes the world from his own self-imposed height.

Dejan Stojanovic

The world is always open, Waiting to be discovered.

Dejan Stojanovic

My feelings are too loud for words and too shy for the world.

Dejan Stojanovic

How would it alter Juliet’s love perception to learn the sea is but a rounded jug of water? Would her sensuous analogy turned simple simile unveil to her the limits of herself? Or would she forget the ocean, that deplorable casket, and turn on the true bottomless tumbler, the only running tap: the sky? It may have lost the title ‘heavens’ when its gods were dethroned, but its infinity reigns. So long as you walk, it reigns. So long as I talk and you listen, there’s a voice and ears to keep it active, moving, and reason to say: look! infinity lives. And when we and the other consciousnesses pass, though it in part dies with us, still it reigns. It will, in a sense, plod on, like a lifeless coffin through its own space, sails set for nothing, unstoppable when trailing its fabric.

Richard Ronald Allan

RebukeObstinate regressionbringing untold pathsof deep dark forebodingdepression...

Muse

Depths of Friendship...under fathoms deepof dark and bitter coldan eerie oscillationreverberated brash and bold...

Muse

Bring Down The WallsI will bring down the wallsthat surround me today.I will no longer be kept quietMeek enough to drown today....

Muse

She captured the spot of my world’s centre and sent me in elliptic rings about it, causing the ground beneath me to vanish and the breath of my lungs to disperse. I was a rock locked in helpless orbit.

Richard Ronald Allan

If I could make people feel, just for a day or an hour, what it’s like to love with infiniteness, then they would be animals no longer, but some greater creature, deserving of that title human. I’ve bettered a day though. On earth, they will have it thus: from birth to unavoidable death, a man is pumped so full of love that his eyes bleed rainbows and his mouth a barrel of miracles. His hands will heal then make monuments to commemorate it; they’ll press tight and pray for no man, no god but himself; and his mind… his mind will shower like spring rains. He will steal away from the shadow of ambition. He’ll be his own sun and light up the world with new marvels – be they art, philosophies, science – and in his brightness put the mundane, not himself, in shadows, and how rightfully. Each a captain and a maker, a mark-setter and stealer of shows... Earth’s skies will clap with the thunder of our majesty, not with violence, doubt, confusion, futility, and monotony; anything – anything – but the dull drone of duplication and robo-behaviour.

Richard Ronald Allan

I am inclined to trust you. You shouldn’t be like that with another man, not ever; but I can’t help it. I felt it strongly from the instant I heard your voice; and though I thought momentarily that it would falter, it didn’t. It’s still here. You see, the essence of trust is not knowing a person’s motive; it’s knowing what isn’t. It’s a simple process of trial and error that gets you to the heart of a man; and once that soft voice and those light feet of yours got to moving I saw in you no measure of ill intent.

Richard Ronald Allan

This is almost always the case: A piece of art receives its f(r)ame when found offensive.

Poetry, above all, is a series of intense moments - its power is not in narrative. I'm not dealing with facts, I'm dealing with emotion.

Carol Ann Duffy

I seek no favor untouched by blood.

It’s just another stop on the curvy roadthe final encounterfor the man who has liveddeath is the answer.

Break out to go out___________________The birds dare to break the egg shellIt does so in order to get out of that HellWhen it finally succeeds, it’ll then flyTo its comfort zone it’ll say byeAre you being confined in a small spaceHow long will you remain at that place?Before you can explore more territories,Break away from the former glories.Yesterday’s excellence is today’s averageYou must strive to be better age after ageNever accept the available mediocrityAs the only preferable opportunityDecide to grow from below to heroAnd make it a point to vacate level zeroReach out and arise with powerGod’s blessings on you, will showerAgree to grow, never attempt to be slowBe not afraid. Never doubt. You’ll flowThe grace of God will be your guideTaking you along, side by side.

Israelmore Ayivor

When thinking is overrated And friends are easy to make, Check if it's too complicated Knowing yourself somehow... Inner peace's not hard to take, Never lost or underestimated. Get out of social media... NOW!

Ana Claudia Antunes

Pretense cannot sustain blind power.

Dejan Stojanovic

When he is most powerful, nothing does he become.

Dejan Stojanovic

This wobbly worldhost to insects and lintand a thousand pithy waysto feel unserious each minuteIt brings abouta great softening of the mind, likethe clouded edges of sea glass (thisfilter you could download and apply)A poultice or an opiate,rigidly individual. Aloneand erasing sentences to splinters.(Poem No. 5)

Butterfly upon my hand, A voice of wonder within my mind, not my own but the butterfly's.

Imagination makes the worldand all the wonders in it.The seed of every dream unfurlsas you with love begin it!

Eric Micha'el Leventhal

Change happens for youthe moment you want somethingmore than you fear it.

Eric Micha'el Leventhal

Have you ever plunged into the immensity of space and time by reading the geological treatises of Cuvier? Borne away on the wings of his genius, have you hovered over the illimitable abyss of the past as if a magician's hand were holding you aloft? As one penetrates from seam to seam, from stratum to stratum and discovers, under the quarries of Montmartre or in the schists of the Urals, those animals whose fossilized remains belong to antediluvian civilizations, the mind is startled to catch a vista of the milliards of years and the millions of peoples which the feeble memory of man and an indestructible divine tradition have forgotten and whose ashes heaped on the surface of our globe, form the two feet of earth which furnish us with bread and flowers. Is not Cuvier the greatest poet of our century? Certainly Lord Byron has expressed in words some aspects of spiritual turmoil; but our immortal natural historian has reconstructed worlds from bleached bones.

Honoré de Balzac

At any time, and under any circumstances of human interest, is it not strange to see how little real hold the objects of the natural world amid which we live can gain on our hearts and minds? We go to Nature for comfort in trouble, and sympathy in joy, only in books. Admiration of those beauties of the inanimate world, which modern poetry so largely and so eloquently describes, is not, even in the best of us, one of the original instincts of our nature.

If the sun rolled back like an eye,it would see the mind of God.

Cecilia Llompart

We can burst the bonds which chain us,Which cold human hands have wrought,And where none shall dare restrain usWe can meet again, in thought.

Charlotte Brontë

No matter how busy we may believe we are, we have the wonderful opportunity presently of investing time with loved ones. For those are the great investments we will be glad we made, when time begins to slow and the ability to tend turns tender.

Some people spend their whole lives seeking heaven, when all they needed to do was look about them, and embrace that which was already there.

There is beauty all around us, and the light finds us when we realize, we are all part of that beauty and worth the cherishing. If we despise any, we journey to despise ourselves. See all as beautiful, even if they choose to see themselves through you, as being less than so. We have the power to see for each, and be the reflection of what they may yet see.

Living in this skin is hard and painful, most of the times, because I never volunteered to take this on. The daily sacrifice of heart over mind,the forever ongoing task of explaining this and that,and why I don’t want to look like this and be like thatbut still here I am and if this is the body I’ve been given I’m sure as hell gonna make it work.

Charlotte Eriksson

The world of light and starry grace;within your mind I live to trace.Your thought’s speed in thunder’s glory,lightening my being with dream’s story.I embrace the tree carrying your nameYour unspoken wish : the heart of fame.

The world of light and starry grace;within your mind I live to trace.Your thought’s speed in thunder’s glory,lightening my being with dream’s story.I embrace the tree carrying your nameYour unspoken wish : the heart of fame.

When you become a raindrop in your mind Thunder is the closest friend you may find Wind lashed trees, dark clouds, lightning or the dust Everything you will bear once you adjust

May youalways haveopenbreezy spacesin your mind.

Between the poles of the conscious and the unconscious, there has the mind made a swing:Thereon hang all beings and all worlds, and that swing never ceases its sway. (pg. 16)

Kabir

And when they dusted my mind for your fingerprints they found yours.

Shannon L. Alder

the mind is a treasuretrove, an almanac, a tomb.

It has the elegance of a sword The might of a shield,How you chose to fight or yieldIts your to wield.Identify your mind.Poem: The Beautiful Mindin ‘Chameleon Lights

Ayushman Jamwal

My words are my children. I am eternally grateful to the womb of my mind for conceiving them.

...now open your mind by closing your eyessee the unseen world within you which liesFrom the poem 'The Unseen World

To storm, a mind, it must be balanced,by what can't be it must be challenged...

you clutter my mindthoughts of you, thoughts of me with youthoughts that keep me from restthat ull me to sleep at nightyour words are like butterthey're smooth and they're richand they make the bitter bits better

i love good cries,loud sobs that soak your pillowthat kind that come at the endof a perfect bookyou're gasping for airas droplets of salt water trickle down your cheeksinto the corners of your mouthas your chest rises and fallsand your vision is blurredby the tearsbut your mind is so clear and your every thoughtin that moment feels so meaningfuland important and rightit feels okay to justlet it all outit makes you feel likeyou are free

Silent our body is a sacred temple, A place to connect with other people. Can't we just stay any younger? Really, we might keep it stronger, Elated, rather than so tilted or feeble!!

Ana Claudia Antunes

Her mind is a mess, and she has no intention of cleaning today.

Alfa H

Soul SisterEvoking all my inner goodnesswith bastions of timeI cradle your heartsisterly into mine...

Muse

may my touchalways...be tenderas i would strokemother's cheekswhen she cried.

Butterfly KissesAged imperfectionsstitched upon my faceyears and years of wisdomearned by His holy grace.Quiet solitude in a humble homeall the family scattered nowlike nomads do they roam.Then a giftsent from abovea memorypure and tangiblewrapped in innocence andunquestioning love.A butterfly kisslands gently upon my cheekfrom an unseen childa kiss most sweet.Heaven grants graceand tears followas youth revisitsthis empty hollow.

Muse

PartingOne is strong, a child now grownThe other weak, a parent aged-The strong once feebleThe weak once mighty-Time, the infinityhas marked them...

Muse

we always knewthat good times camewith termination contractseven if we weren't quite readyto sign it.

That night, when the creature sleeps, when he sleeps, the mother escapes into her daughters’ room. She tells her daughter that the creature’s afraid of her having too much love, too much heart. She takes a tube of lipstick and drags it across her finger like a knife, marking it across her daughter’s cheeks, red, blood, war paint.

Elijah Noble El

Reflections they give meThat my mirror does notThey know the new meNot the old meThat I am not

You are nothing like my father. And like my father you are nothing.

Eduardo C. Corral

Listen.I will lose myselfif it means I can find you.

Scenes from the PlayroomNow Lucy with her family of dolls Disfigures Mother with an emery board, While Charles, with match and rubbing alcohol, Readies the struggling cat, for Chuck is bored. The young ones pour more ink into the water Through which the latest goldfish gamely swims, Laughing, pointing at naked, neutered Father. The toy chest is a Buchenwald of limbs. Mother is so lovely; Father, so late. The cook is off, yet dinner must go on With onions as her only cause for tears She hacks the red meat from the slippery bone, Setting the table, where the children wait, Her grinning babies, clean behind the ears.

In this space,We do rawWe do loud hearts& truthful artWe do open arms& unfettered forgivenessWe do realWe do vulnerableWe do wildIn this space,We do loveIn all the shapes& formsThat we come inWe do love

How rarely these few years, as work keeps up aloof,Or fares, or one thing or another,How we had days to spend under our parents' roof;Myself, my sister, and my brother.All five of us will die; to reckon from the pastThis flesh and blood is unforgiving.What's hard is that just one of us will be the lastTo bear it all and go on living.

A short poem from my new book, The Lost Journal of my Second Trip to Pergatory, Thorny CrownsOf course the gold one was for special occasions, weddings, etc,silver for family reunions, office-casual type affairs.Bronze was a everyday choice; during yard work its burnished surface shone in sunlight.There were various colors and holiday appropriate ones.I could never find the hatboxes they were stored in.But the wooden one was reserved for the long suffering caused by family.Stevie’s funeral, my hospital trips and sister’s rebellion rated real wood. One tip filed extra sharp produced a fine and dramatic line of blood droplets on her brow.

Michelle Hartman

Friday night's alright for fightingSaturday, Sunday, Monday tooEvery night is a night of fightingWith family and friends like you

Jessica-Lynn Barbour

There is a voice in my head that is only silenced by the scratching of my pen

Jessica-Lynn Barbour

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