Poems Quotes - Page 11

i am a womanand i am alone,and i cannot tellwhich one of the twoi love being more.

I tasted danger on his lips and became an addict.A slave to adrenaline and irrational behaviour.We lived recklessly in a dramatic whirl;Clubbing and Cutting,Drinking and Driving,Fighting and Fucking,Smoking and Snorting,Overdoing and Overdosing. I tasted danger on his lips and lost my way.

A poem is an event, like a wedding or birth.

What I want to know is how you go on when you look aroundand don’t see anywhere you want to go without the only personyou can’t have.

It was more than a string of letters put togetherit was a thick cloak in the coldand a strong defense against an enemyIt was more than the naked heart on paperit was a way to undress sadness … and sinsand an olive branch for the desperateWriting was her prayer and the words were felt.

Don’t keep those people in your life who are completely negative in approach. Eventually these people will stress you out and be the source of your downfall.

blue-gold sky, fresh cloud, emerald-black mountain, trees on rocky ledges, on the summit, the tiny pin of a telephone tower-all brilliantly clear, in shadow and out. and on and through everything everywhere the sun shines without reservation (p. 97)

The sea waves stirred before methey dashed against the rocksLike a mermaid rising from its depthscurled white sea foam were her locks...

It is so hard to stay afloat in a world that just wants to drown you.

An envy of that one consummate partSwept me, who mock. Whether I laugh or weep, Some inner silences are at my heart.

A lie near to truth is always difficult to catch

You deserve to be the person you were meant to be. 

Life's too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, So ... Love the people who treat you right and pray for the ones who don't. Life is 10% what you make it 90% how you take it.

In all the flames of fire fume’s left the traceInto the bluest sea the sky is drownedThe miracles of life can you embraceFrom the poem 'Can You Embrace?

Love is the reflection of a broken heart in a shattered mirror...

A single poemis worth a hundredcozy winter nightskind wordsand healed wounds.

Roses have thorns,’ we whine. When thorns of life entwine. Simple things can bring solace to heart-Things everyone take for granted-Like tending beds of fragile roses-with heart full of scars

When They Die We Change Our Minds About Them When they die we change our minds about them. While they live we see the plenty hard they’re trying,to be a star, or nice, or wise, and so we do not quite believe them. When they die, suddenly they are what they claimed. Turns out, that’s what one of those looks like. The cold war over manner of manly or mission is over. Same person, same facts and acts, just now a quiet brain stem. We no longer begrudge his or her stupid luck.When they die we change our minds about them. I will try to believe while you yet breathe.

hough we travel the whole over to find the perfect match,we must carry it with us a light or it's playing hard to catch.

The beautiful thing about young love is the truth in our hearts that it will last forever.

That’s a stupid name! Whirly-gig is much better, I think. Who in their rightmind would point at this thing and say, ‘I’m going to fly in my Model-A1’.People would much rather say, ‘Get in my whirly-gig’. And that’s what youshould name it.

No matter how many romantic poems you recite, no matter how many glorious tales of love you read, how can you really understand the condition if you've never found yourself in it?

Trying to build myself up with the fact that I have done things right that were even good and have had moments that were excellent but the bad is heavier to carry around and feel have no confidence.

She was not for everyone but she was for me. 

He walked out the door and with each step my heart breaks.He'd be gone for days with long silences between each breath.I know I'm his one of many and he knows he's my one of one. The only one who holds him down.Yet, he still leaves.He walks through the door and with each step my heart leaps.He crumbles to the ground in tears telling me he's sorry.He says he needs me and he's nothing without me.How can he be so attached and detached at the same time?I swear, this man loves to see me in pain.

and sadness clung to mebecause she did not knowhow to be alone.

Life is about the moments you create, that you can keep it with you FOREVER. After everything is over,That is what we have or what we are left with.

Love- if not reciprocated, comes with an expiry date, no matter how strongly we beg to differ.

A few drinks and the world was hers— she wore her whiskey like a loaded gun.

Come, my darling,it is never too late to begin our love again.

for those memories are nowjust like these little kittensI hold in my handsthose can be kissedand treasuredbut not held too tightly.

Great literature makes a great life.

Sometimes even a "Yes" can be fatal for our Souls

I'll stop loving you the day my shadow stops following me around. Because on that day, nothing will make sense.

I've been writing poems since I was sixteen. Back then, poems were an obvious release for all the frustrations and anxieties associated with adolescence. Mostly, they were a way for me to impress girls, even though I never remember any girls being impressed.

She wore his love like a loaded gun. 

Depression is being colorblind and constantly told how colorful the world is.

3 A.M. isn't a time for sleep when the silhouette of you is breathing next to me.

Maybe what this is. What we have, is something that will save us from ourselves.

That's what I love about poetry. The more abstract, the better. The stuff where you're not sure what the poet's talking about. You may have an idea, but you can't be sure. Not a hundred percent. Each word, specifically chosen, could have a million different meanings.

I loved you for a thousand years and missed you in all of them.

She was another broken doll dreaming of a boy with glue. 

I have never cared for castles or a crown that grips too tight,Let the night sky be my starry roof and the moon my only light,My heart was born a Hero,My storm-bound sword won't rest,I left this harbour long ago on a never-ending quest.I am off to the horizon,Where the wild wind blows the foam,Come get lost with me, love,And the sea shall be our home.

i'm so hookedon how your mind works,on what you notice,on everything that excites you.i'm so caught up inhow you see the world,how you see everythingand still offer up your lovefor all to take it.you give me a glimpse of your heartand i can't tell youhow much you turn me on.

the poem doesn’t have stanzas, it has a body, the poem doesn’t have lines,/ it has blood, the poem is not written with letters, it’s written/ with grains of sand and kisses, petals and moments, shouts and/ uncertainties.

A sky full of starsand he was staring at her. —ATTICUS

The townspeople took the prince for deadWhen he never returned with the dragon’s headWhen with her, he stayedShe thought he’d be too afraidBut he loved her too much instead.

Broken.As I search for hope,In the same eyesI lost it.

TAKE Risk because you never know how absolutely perfect something could turn out to be..

some people are so deepyou fall into themand you never stop falling.

Turning and turning in the widening gyreThe falcon cannot hear the falconer;Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhereThe ceremony of innocence is drowned;The best lack all conviction, while the worstAre full of passionate intensity.

When once we are buried you think we are gone. But behold me immortal!

I WANT TO BE WITH SOMEONE WHO DREAMS OF DOING EVERYTHING IN LIFEAND NOTHING ON RAINY SUNDAY AFTERNOONS.

the woman is rain,and when she falls,she is a monsoon.to love her is to drown.

There is a poem at the heart of things and a mythic story in the heart of each of us. At certain times it is the poetry of life and the mythic imagination of the soul that become necessary in order to heal the wounds inflicted by an excess of reason or an overuse of force.

through the rose glass window in their beautiful new home, you stare at the love you gave away.

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

2.07 WALK OF LIFELife but like a cycle that you be riding,You will fall if you ever stop peddling,Life not of good cards you be holding,But those held and how you be playing.[68]t- 4

Some plant lips on Mother Earth in a display of gratitude.Meanwhile, she is kissing the soles of your feet, recognizing the one to be worshiped is you.

Stop explaining to others, people will only understand from their level of discernment.