Poetry Quotes - Page 55

If what you create seems to turn out much stranger than who you are as a person, it's probably because your heart is talking.

Criss Jami

These Hoes Just Gon Fuck Who Ever Poppin , You Better Be Careful, When you fuck em' Raw!

Genereux Philip

BLACK IS SO FUCKIN' BEAUTIFUL

Genereux Philip

We didn't do anything illegal, All we ever did was be black.. #BlackLivesMatter

Genereux Philip

Fake is the new real,You gotta keep a lot a shit to yourself.

Genereux Philip

If an Artist falls in love with you, you will live forever.

Genereux Philip

If I was meant to be controlled, I would have come with a remote.

Genereux Philip

If ur laptop doesnt smell like fire then ur losing.

Genereux Philip

Don't fuckin' sleep on yourself

Genereux Philip

Bitch, if I ain't a G, I'm an OG

Genereux Philip

I'm the G when you spell OG

Genereux Philip

The hardest part about walking away from someone is the part where you realize that, no matter how slowly you go, they will never run after you.

Genereux Philip

A panther poised in the cypress tree about to jump is apanther poised in a cypress tree about to jump.The panther is a poem of fire green eyes and a heart chargedby four winds of four directions.The panther hears everything in the dark: the unspokentears of a few hundred human years, storms that will breakwhat has broken his world, a bluebird swaying on a branch afew miles away.He hears the death song of his approaching

Joy Harjo

Your spiritual heart imbibes in the primordial light and, as you dance towards infinity, you begin to see all things are held together by the power of love.

Earthschool Harmony

With all control look for the hole, your mind gets weak, unless it’s truth you seek. Swirled and twirled into another world, into the smog, a doorway within the fog.” Deetkatu, The Little People Journey into the Mystic Sea

Chris DiSano Davenport

With natural law there is no flaw, we must act in truth and be smart.”Grampa Foster, Meet the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

Chris DiSano Davenport

Protect me from the fairies wild, Or exchange thee for a stolen child. A debt be paid more than a few, Tempting hunger with fairy stew. A mother’s distraction used as bait, To steal unchristen babes in wait. Malevolent fairies will deceive, Of lower nature and unbelief. An act to reflect the human soul, Will light the darkness of shadow. By living life of higher mind, A changeling thee will never find. In thy cradle a bundle of love, Your child protected by God above." Changelings, Meet the Little People...An Enchanting Adventure

Chris DiSano Davenport

I want topeel away all the labelsI had once given to othersand place themupon the fabricof my own identity.They have reflected back to me,everything that I refuseto See in myself.

Meraaqi

Did I Not Say To YouDid I not say to you, “Go not there, for I am your friend; in this mirage of annihilation I am the fountain of life?” Even though in anger you depart a hundred thousand years from me, in the end you will come to me, for I am your goal. Did I not say to you, “Be not content with worldly forms, for I am the fashioner of the tabernacle of your contentment?” Did I not say to you, “I am the sea and you are a single fish; go not to dry land, for I am your crystal sea?” Did I not say to you, “ Go not like birds to the snare; come, for I am the power of flight and your wings and feet?” Did I not say to you, “ They will waylay you and make you cold, for I am the fire and warmth and heat of your desire?” Did I not say to you, “ They will implant in you ugly qualities so that you will forget that I am the source of purity to you?” Did I not say to you, “Do not say from what direction the ser- vant’s affairs come into order?” I am the Creator without directions. If you are the lamp of the heart, know where the road is to the house; and if you are godlike of attribute, know that I am your Maser.

Jalaluddin Rumi

Tempestuous plains tell the tale,Windswept wastes do bewail,Haunting Spirit of the land,Seeks the living, seeks the damned.Horizoned edge sheared with grass,tttDark Storm Rising in the pass,Ageless Spirit seeks the path,To torment souls to the last.Brooding Spirit upon the plain,Thunderhead gathers for the rain.ttttLight grows dim then bolts with pain,On dry Earth her sin is stained.(Frightened creatures do stampede,Into night, they do recede).Ungodded hand on seasoned blade,Reaps the harvest of the Age.Released from her eternal din,Spirit of the Age rises again.Seeking to plunder and consume,ttThose who were proud, those who presumed.Spirits rage while storm draws nigh,Upon burning plain and emblazoned sky.It is said giants grapple in the Earth so deep,To contend for souls that they might keep.ttThe Storm spirit now searches the high and the low,To seek her manchild victim in the fields below.Leaves bad wasteland to claim but a fallen man,Denying it Heaven, crowning it, ‘Son of the Damned.’Treacherous Spirit of the far lost night,tttTramples souls down denying them light.Storm seethes with furious hiss,Leads men on to bottomless pit.This most ancient of foes has come from her den,To seek the living, to make ready those dead.tA living sacrifice is her soul desire,To snatch the soul for black funeral pyre.A double-damned devil, that is she,This one who lies, who claims to make free.A lying spirit, that is her domain,tttttA storm-wracked Fury of self-proclaim.Onward she seeks, this bleak Northern wind,Searching for naught but for a soul akin.Amidst the howling and the rage,To murder again, that is her trade.ttttAs this spirit of graves left the plain,She left a wake of dead in shrouded train.tttNow down from the plain Storm did come,Unto those cities wherein was no sun.There with whirlwind she did rip and scour,ttFor those souls of whom she could tear and devour.She comes to seek the living and the dead,Those who were frightened, those with no dread.Thus upon those she did acclaim,“I am the Mistress of the living and the slain.”ttO’ haunting Spirit of this land,Taker of life, maker of the damned. --On Villainess Storm, Ch. One Valley of the Damned

douglas m laurent

This is love: to fly toward a secret sky,to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment.First, to let go of life.In the end, to take a step without feet;to regard this world as invisible,and to disregard what appears to be the self.Heart, I said, what a gift it has beento enter this circle of lovers,to see beyond seeing itself,to reach and feel within the breast.

Jalaluddin Rumi

KUNDALINI DANCEDark and cold and wet were Her handsI felt Her chilly breath inside my throatHer claws deep inside trying to find traces ofFear within meI stayed still Accepting Opening ReceivingWithin a moment She was insideTwo fingers below My belly buttonIn there She found no traces of shiversno traces of resistance, no traces of weaknessjust clear pure Passage-WayThen She grew into Her most powerful SelfShe stood undisturbed, unmoved, unchangedTotally free and She screamedAAAAAUUUUUUMMMFrom the centre of the earth, Through the tunnels of the caves, To the surface of the volcanoesAAAAUUUUUUMMMMTo open: Mountain tops untouched by clouds and rainCherry fields in their full blossomA dog running after a train filled with the excitementA witch laughing at passers-by mirroring their paranoiaDeath looking us in the eyes searching for the chosen Few Capable to see the Key behind Her magic veil

Nataša Nuit Pantović

I will use my special sight! I will quiet myself right here and now and I will get the answer on what to do to and create my own way out of here!” Arthur, See the Little People…An Enchanting Adventure

Chris DiSano Davenport

Let the wet earth embrace you firmly, soundly. She needs to be revived, she needs to beat like a heart full of adrenaline inside a chest.

V.S.Atbay

at home the bookshelves connected heaven and earth.

Lisel Mueller

Watch, how the sunslowly risesfrom behind my earnew lines, new countriesspring up in my palmsmy rough hairbecome swaying silkand all the leavesin my bodybecome lusher than fruits.

Sanober Khan

A single poem, alonecan turn tidesscatter galaxiesand burst forth with riversfrom paradise.

Sanober Khan

Leave me alone,Do me a favor, abandon me,I want to think about,You me and the idea of forever.

Rohit Hora

I can't remember the poemThat pierced through my heartIt was the saddest I heardOf all truths ever spokenIt left a scar in meA wound that doesn't healBut the words are forgottenSo is a big part of me

A.A. Patawaran

I read for pleasureIn search of fictional worldsTo enrich my truths

A.A. Patawaran

To read a poemIs to see light where there is darknessIs to hear silence where there is noiseIs to dance where there is no musicIs to sing where the only instrument is wordsAnd the stirring, impassioned pauses

A.A. Patawaran

Is the healing process the writing or the reading of that writing?What are we all healing from? Ourselves?What are we all healing towards? Ourselves?

Michal Coret

We were not meant to read stories anymore. We were too busy writing our own.

Maria Elena

So when people say that poetry is a luxury, or an option, or for the educated middle classes, or that it shouldn't be read in school because it is irrelevant, or any of the strange and stupid things that are said about poetry and its place in our lives, I suspect that the people doing the saying have had things pretty easy. A tough life needs a tough language - and that is what poetry is. That is what literature offers - a language powerful enough to to say how it is. It isn't a hiding place. It is a finding place.

Jeanette Winterson

Sit here, so I may writeyou into a poem and make you eternal.

Kamand Kojouri

I am the girl who spends hours huddled in a corner of a library, trying to find what you love the most about Marlowe, just so I can write you a poem worthy of Shakespeare. I've made books my lovers, hours my enemies and you the only story.

Nikita Gill

I love the pleasure of reading poetry.

Lailah Gifty Akita

I love the writers of my thousand books. It pleases me to think how astonished old Homer, whoever he was, would be to find his epics on the shelf of such an unimaginable being as myself, in the middle of an unrumored continent. I love the large minority of the writers on my shelves who have struggled with words and thoughts and, by my lights, have lost the struggle. All together they are my community, the creators of the very idea of books, poetry, and extended narratives, and of the amazing human conversation that has taken place across the millennia, through weal and woe, over the heads of interest and utility.

Marilynne Robinson

The extent of creativity to which I admire in an individual is his ability to be richly creative while still, in a way, telling the truth. It is the fool who creates only his own lies, and the bore who simply repeats what he is told.

Criss Jami

Poetry is a storm asking peace to dance with her.

Jenim Dibie

The power of the artform is stronger than stone, the poet says, and chooses the sonnet, a form concerned with argument and persuasion, to say so. This sonnet, he says, will last longer than any gravestone-and you'll be made shinier, brighter, by it. In this form it will-and therefore you will-avoid destruction by war, history, time generally; it'll even keep you alive after death; in fact it'll form a place for you to live, not die, where you'll be seen in the eyes of and the context of this love right to the end of time.

Ali Smith

Many years before, Ka had explained to me that when a good poet is confronted with difficult facts that he knows to be true but also inimical to poetry, he has no choice but to feel to the margins; it was, he said, this very retreat that allowed him to hear the hidden music that is the source of all art.

Orhan Pamuk

LEFTISTS EAT THEIR CHILDREN: The poets, artists, and radicals are murdered first once the "revolution" actually comes about.

A.E. Samaan

The spoken word is ephemeral. The written word, eternal. A symphony, timeless.

A.E. Samaan

We are all of lifewho stepped from the seatrading weightless journeys of the currentsWe are all of lifewho build and tear down and build againto find gold and silverto find scars that weep and bleedto step from the seato stay with the sea

Tamara Rendell

It is man who has introduced a little grace, beauty, unknown charm and mystery into creation by singing about it, interpreting it, by admiring it as a poet, idealizing it as an artist and by explaining it through science, doubtless making mistakes, but finding ingenious reasons, hidden grace and beauty, unknown charm and mystery in the various phenomena of Nature. God created only coarse beings, full of the germs of disease, who, after a few years of bestial enjoyment, grow old and infirm, with all the ugliness and all the want of power of human decrepitude.

Guy de Maupassant

In addition, I think religion has a chance of a look-in whenever the mind craves solace in music or poetry-- in any form of art at all. Personally, I think it is an art, the greatest one; an extension of the communication all the other arts attempt.

Dodie Smith

And someday,when the partiesdon’t dazzle you anymore,and when the alcohol failsto amuse your senses,come to me.We’ll lie on the grass,stare at the stars,and talk about Life.Maybe I will become the Momentyou rediscover yourself again.

Meraaqi

Feel My Heart: A Collection of Poem and Art WWW( DOT)amazon(DOT)in/Feel-My-Heart-Collection-Poem/dp/1535431601

sandeep kumar mishra

Some thoughts you underestimate but may be capable of energizing the world. Never delay to put your thoughts into words.

Bikash Bhandari

If God could transcribe my heart, it'd still read "I love you".

Jenim Dibie

The arts that have escaped [uniformity] best are the arts in which the public take no interest. Poetry is an instance of what I mean. We have been able to have fine poetry in England because the public do not read it, and consequently do not influence it.

Oscar Wilde

Because at nightwhen others are sleeping, I drown myself in poetry.

Kamand Kojouri

A chord that becomes a melodious delusion,In polar discrepancy from blue to yellow painted,In yellow I existed, with digoxin’s deadly illusion,Like Van Gogh’s stars in a bright night untainted.

Selina A. Mahmood

You'll live through my words and my pictures, and I'll live somewhere the skies are blue.

Maria Elena

that willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

These poems are cupsthat I pour my life into.Here, Drink!

Kamand Kojouri

How lucky I am to lose sleep over such a work of art.

Taylor Patton

Tweets are not diseased rings of glitchy minds. They’re epigrams, aphorisms, maxims, dictums, taglines, captions, slogans, and adages. Some are art, some are commercial; these are forms with integrity.

Virginia Heffernan

To see things as the poet sees them I must share his consciousness and not attend to it; I must look where he looks and not turn round to face him; I must make of him not a spectacle but a pair of spectacles; in fine, as Professor Alexander would say, I must enjoy him and not contemplate him.

C.S. Lewis

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Poetry Quotes - Page 55

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