Poetry Quotes - Page 53

I have these knives in my chest that can't become words.

From attraction and affectionCover of perfectionFailure beyond texture to a painful lessonEverything that was from the start wasn't from the heart

Criss Jami

MOTHER IS WATERI wish I couldShower your head with flowersAnd anoint your feet with my tears,For I know I have caused youSo much heartache, frustration and despair –Throughout my youthful years.I wish I could give youThe remainder of my lifeTo add to yours,Or simply eraseThe lines on your face,And mend all that has been torn.For next to God,You are the fireThat has given lightTo the flame in each of my eyes.You are the fountainThat nourished my growth,And from your chalice –Gave me life.Without the wetness of your love,The fragrance of your water,Or the trickling sounds ofYour voice,I shall always feelthirsty.

Suzy Kassem

She wore her scarsas her best attire.A stunning dressmade of hellfire.

Daniel Saint

Soaked in painmy suits remain standingwhen I take them off - hollow men beside the closet,a museum of days.

Chad Sweeney

You see herand ascend into love. You become enchanted, a found madman. In your love,you lose yourself and become her. You were once without her, now with her. You still feel her and descend into love. You become enraptured, a lost madman. In your love,you lost yourself and her. You were once with her, nowwithout her.

Kamand Kojouri

This empty shell holds nothing but the echoes of what was.

Jenim Dibie

To make love is to give birth to death.

Stephanie M. Wytovich

You didn’t understand the poem, but that was because it wasn’t for you. It was for me to understand the pain you put me through.

Dominic Riccitello

I do not just want you at your best.I almost do not carewhere your Happiness lives,but please,let me visit your pain?Take me to the placewhere your sadness goes,and show me the tragedythat no one knows.

Meraaqi

He thought of what his mother always said whenever he cut himself, “Dimka, scars are time’s alphabet.” If so, his body was covered in poetry, his soul contained an entire encyclopedia of pain and loss..." Kelly Oliver, WOLF: A Jessica James Mystery

Kelly Oliver

Abolish these categories of pain(or is it love)Let it all be one painPain swallows itself, dies like a star.

Alice Notley

Why can't we breathe now, In this moment we have breath?

Jenim Dibie

Maybe I should stop while I'm aheadNay, I swim with sea-demons no sweet summer tuned radioover my sunless desertscapehow does it burn without the sun?

Moonshine Noire

I’ve reached the vanishing point without you.Here my heartache begins with your paintrying to find an unborn startin this fatal disappearanceFrom the poem ‘Me with the Vanishing Point

Munia Khan

Night never needs a shade but it requires to fade into the grin of twinkling stars where light is just a glint of scars

Munia Khan

The mind, at length bereftOf thinking and its pain,Will soon disperse again,And nothing will remain:No, not a thing be left.Only the ardent eye,Only the listening earCan say, "The thrush was here!"Can say, "His song was clear!"Can live, before it die.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

A thing about poetry is, It takes cuts and pain to bleed words. The deeper the wound is, the more you bleed. And eventually, you will start falling in love with it. But the saddest part is, sometimes there comes a moment when you start to feel that all those wounds on your soul are not enough. And you start cutting yourself deeper, forgetting when to stop.

Akshay Vasu

A thing is never untold, It is always misperceived.

Nishikant

The dark, cold grasp you took on me, has tangled me completely

Victoria Manning

Maybe that's what writers do-Maybe they exaggerate pain just so that you feel okay about what you're feeling.

Sanhita Baruah

I was born into this torrid world a degenerate, eternally condemned a vessel of belligerency, destined to one day end. But despite my mortal disposition, I possess my voice. I have that which is gifted to me from the bosom of the gods. The beauty of self-expression. And through this gift I will come to know and share the true nature of reality

Evan Guerra

Depression is like waking up and opening the blinds because your plants need sunlight, but it's 8p.m. It's always 8p.m and you keep apologizing for it.

Jenim Dibie

A writer tears open their soul for youWe lay bare our fears and woes for youWe pour our heart onto the page for youWe unleash our demons for youLetters like blood smear the page for youThe world's pain we absorb for youA delicate path of sanity walked for youOnly for you to -Crumple the page in disdainYou will not abdicate your reignIn the oblivion of life, you’ll remainAs I continue to write for you

Theresa Jacobs

We swam deep in the waves, a wild chase ..Stained with memories and pain.Who knew a gulf would lay between?Who knew loving someone, would ache?

honeste_

Poetry without truth, is like a rose without thorns.Still pretty,But sometime the real beauty comes from the things that can make us bleed.

Cody Edward Lee Miller

Oh the beauty of nature! Oh the magical heart touching flower.My heart wants to bloom like you with love, joy, and laughter.

Debasish Mridha

Feel the kiss of ocean breeze,Hear the song of dancing waveLet your soul fly away with seagullsTo fill the heart with the joy of life.

Debasish Mridha

A blooming flower pleads, oh thee! Look at me, to see the beauty, Kiss me like a bee, To feel the bliss, To taste the nectar of life And just to feel and be. Kiss me like a wave kisses the shore In an endless dancing sea, again and again, just to be.

Debasish Mridha

I dream like a dew drop in the nightThen glitter in the morning sunlightThen it evaporates to embrace the sky

Debasish Mridha

In your sky, you are the brightest star.Without you light, it’s dark like tar.So love yourself to enlighten others.

Debasish Mridha

Poetry is an art that uses words to paint vivid pictures of perceptions and emotions.

Debasish Mridha

For a poet reality is mysterious, imaginations are magical, and perceptions are magnificent.

Debasish Mridha

Dance with the waves of sea and sing with the sky,touch the sands with love and let your mind fly high.

Debasish Mridha

Now you may hear songs of kindness From every singing bird And from every dancing heart Let kindness be the part of your being

Debasish Mridha

Poetry, will you show me where your words find peace?

Delano Johnson

There is still peace left in the world,and only those with beauty in their soul,care enough to be it.

Jenim Dibie

Come, Sleep; O Sleep! the certain knot of peace,The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe,The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release,Th' indifferent judge between the high and low;With shield of proof shield me from out the preaseOf those fierce darts Despair at me doth throw.

Philip Sidney

THE OLD MAN IN THE CORNERThe man in the cornerIs dying with wordsHe's crying to be heardHis days are markedAnd his only ears are birdsHe knows the secret to peaceAnd his experience bleeds and hurtsSomebody stop and listenBefore he departs the earth!Somebody write his thoughtsBefore he hits the turf!His eyes are closing their shuttersAnd he just dropped hisBeads and stick.His breath is leaving us.Please!Somebody hear him out quick!A little girl rushes to him andPicks up his cane of wood.The old man then turns to herAnd faintly whispers,"The key to peace isTo always stay fairAnd be good.

Suzy Kassem

Poetry keeps my heart neat, even when incomplete, I find peace.

Delano Johnson

Believe God for something today. Prayer is the key to connecting with God and allowing Him to speak to your spirit. Open your heart and free your mind.

Amaka Imani Nkosazana

My mind is an instrument of peaceI am the peaceMy heart sing the song of peaceMy mind dances with peaceI laugh with peaceMy soul is longing for peaceMy spirit is the source of peace.

Debasish Mridha

Today and every day: I offer the universe my love I offer the universe my peace I offer the universe my beauty of hope I offer the universe my deepest gratitude for her hospitality and generosity

Debasish Mridha

WHO AM I?I have seven heavenly panelsLeading up to a pointed sphereI’m multidimensional like a crystalAnd my center is never clear.I’m an inventor and pioneer.A mentor to my peers.But I'm not as sound as my shell reveals,Because I’m tormented by my fears -That may appear to be groundedBut my insides are filled with tears.And the sadness is well-founded,From years and yearsOf traumatic experiencesCompoundedIn the most dementedAtmospheres.I talk but feel like nobody hears.Has reason disappeared?And, God, are you near?This is Giza’s 7th light forceAnd I'm asking you to interfere.I can no longer walk amongst the blind and deadWith open eyes and ears.I’m trying to maintain my sanityAnd to straighten up my veneerAs I roll amongst the growing calamitiesFlowing on Earth’s severely trashedFrontier.Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun (2010)

Suzy Kassem

In a dark placein a dark timestart with black.Stop. Soak up its energy.Remember the circlehowever bent and broken.Prize balance. Seek Pleasure.Allow surprise. Let musicguide your every impulse.Support those who falter.Steer by our fixed star:No Justice, No Peace.

Jim Haba

Soft sunlight tall treeswoodsmoke impressions summery cuestossed onthis dainty patch of my recluse.~ Poem Title VERS LIBÉRÉ, Tara Estacaan

Tara Estacaan

The day arrived,when myriad teary rivers flow and the muted wind faintly died in his tears—an altar for the beloved one's departure,for sister-hood is no more,for her to adore!while pangs the beating world in a lamenting voice;their remembering loss of the 'one' they embrace most and when the crepuscule came like a phantom,the mournful,gathered birds swiftly flew in gloom.

Nithin Purple

Since nothing is absolute There is no absolute silence, Only an appearance Of temporary peace.

Dejan Stojanovic

Ere long this golden light shall pass and fadeExcept all cherish'd mem'ries ye have made.

Timothy Salter

The one red leaf, the last of its clan,That dances as often as dance it can,Hanging so light, and hanging so high,On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Does not heed to the darkWith its shimmering light,Moon quietly bathes the ocean

Somali K Chakrabarti

I come into the peace of wild thingswho do not tax their lives with forethoughtof grief. I come into the presence of still water.And I feel above me the day-blind starswaiting with their light. For a timeI rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Wendell Berry

O, to take what we love inside,to carry within us an orchard, to eatnot only the skin, but the shade,not only the sugar, but the days, to holdthe fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite intothe round jubilance of peach. There are days we liveas if death were nowherein the background; from joyto joy to joy, from wing to wing,from blossom to blossom toimpossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

Li-Young Lee

Not knowing the name of the tree,I stood in the floodof its sweet scent.

Bashō Matsuo

This choreography of ruin, the world breakinglike glass under a microscope,the way it doesn’t crack all at once,but spreads out from the damaged cavities.Still for a moment it all recedes.The backyard potatoes swell quietlyburied beneath their canopy of leaves.The wind rubs its hands through the trees.

Ellen Bass

Ripe summer's sweetness drippedin pearls from every treeand into my opened hearta little drop ran down.

Edith Södergran

The planet, saved for another day, stokes upits slow-burning gases and toxic dust, gold rift and scarletgash that take our breath away; a world at its interminableshow of holy dying. And we go with it, the oldgatherer and hunter. To its gaudy-day, though the contributionis small, adding our handsel of warm clay.

David Malouf

with each measured step,we knowthis earth is only as solidas we are.

Sheniz Janmohamed

Life without love is like a bird without feathers. Life without love is like a butterfly without wings it's the saddest of things."In this life I can live without many things love is not on that list

Charles W. Warner

...O if we but knew what to do When we delve or hew— Hack and rack the growing green! Since country is so tender To touch, her being só slender,

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Previous 1 … 51 52 53 54 55 … 121 Next

Poetry Quotes - Page 53

Related Topics