Poems Quotes - Page 12

If you wake with a change of direction, deciding you hate who you've been,Remember, I loved you every yesterday as I will continue to love you then.Whomever person you become I shall worship and whatever path you pave I will follow,Because I loved you every yesterday and I will love you every tomorrow.

Even lungs that are gasping are lungs that are trying.

There are no lungs like the ones that breathe poetry.

I started writing poetry and philosophy when I was 17 years old and my mind so was wild. Now I'm 56 and I often want to write like a child.

everything that is scatteredcomes together in wordseverything that is lostcomes back in poetry.

She leaves my side and heads deeper intothe apartment singing, “—if the spirit tries to hide, its temple far away… acopper for those they ask, a diamond for those who stay.

i am like a dead begoniahanging upside down because like a dead begonia I don't give a fuck

Some people make you want to be a better person, and that, for me, is the purest form of love.

I have you fast in my fortress,And will not let you depart,But put you down into the dungeon,In the round-tower of my heart,And there will I keep you forever,Yes, forever and a day,Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,And moulder in the dust away!

Es sind tausend Tropfenin einer Weltnur für uns gemachtTausend Tropfenwenn der Himmel weintund man dennoch lacht

I keep my kindness in my eyes Gently folded around my iris Like a velvety, brown blanket That warms my vision I keep my shyness in my hair Tucked away into a ponytail Looking for a chance to escape On a few loose strands in the air I keep my anger on my lips Just waiting to unleash into the world But trust me; it’s never in my heart It evaporates into words I keep my dignity upon my chin Like a torch held up high For those who have betrayed me Radiating a silent, strong message I keep my gratitude in my smileA glistening waterfall in the sun Gently splashing at that personWho made me happy for some reason I keep my sensitivity in my hands Reaching out for your wet cheek Holding you, with all the love The love I want to share, and feel I keep my passion in my writing My words breathing like fire Screeching against an endless road As I continue to be inspired I keep my simplicity in my soul Spread over me like a clear sky Reflecting all that I am And all that’s ever passed me by And I hope you will look Beyond my ordinary faceMy simple, tied hairMy ordinary tastes And I hope you will see me From everyone...apart As I keep my beauty in my heart.

In the hours waking,when we're still all still,and you can hear the floorboards creaking,and you can feel the shades blow in,the night we slept with,we'll never kiss like that again.Our lips, will sever, our memories, will dissipate,and our shadows will be swallowed by the sky.

She had more of me then I had of myself. We were both wild birds chasing the stars. We’d lose our way and find new places, close our eyes and fall back towards a constellation of dreams. We wrapped ourselves in a blanket of passion and each night we fell deeper without control, into this strange space called love.

She had the power to change the world but she couldn't save the one she loved.

You are afraid to let anyone in, but you still leave the door open, hoping someone good will shut the door behind him and throw away the keys.

Cold feet under a warm blanket, steam over an empty mug--rain splatters on dry window pane--open journals of closed memories... tears of laughter and joy of pain... schmaltz of diametric morning.

If lighthouse becomes a burning candle, flickered upon ocean's insanity.Your sailing heart there anchors to handle the obsessed breeze towards sand dune's vanity.

With the need for the self in the time of another / I left my seaport grim and dear / knowing good work could be made / in the state governed by both Hope and Despair.

My religion consists of a dwelling admiration of illimitable spirit, with no hate in place, a whole heart to Love and care about the human race. There is lust within each of us, it's sometimes self center, that we call our heart. We were born with it. It is never completely grace, but the state to Love others and appreciates the human race in a unique way is left to "question". I am convinced that it is a fundamental energy of the human spirit that can create diversity, and can also stop the caste system, racism, segregation and sexism

i feel everything.i do not know how to un-feeland to not feelis to stop the sun.

William tell, William tell,Take your arrow, grip it well,There’s the apple– – aim for the middle– –Oh well … you just missed by a little.

The fatal problem with poetry: poems.

stay curious and stay the brave, strong, unrelenting soldier of love that you are.

i am soft again.there is water and it surrounds me.there is feeling and i can feel it.i am awake and aliveand swollen and heavy with love.i am changingand i am loving change.

Not words. nor laughter. but rather someonewho will fall in lovewith your silence.

She got inside me with her story. I could feel her flowing in me and far, faraway I related in parallel. Her smile was a reflection of my own brokenness. It defined buried feelings that I could never ignore.

i sometimes think i'm too in love with alone.who could i love more than this peace?

We do not recognize that we are addicted to some negative psychological habit, some terribly self-destructive patterns of thinking...

While doing an enquiry on renowned horror author, “Edgar Allen Poe” I was astonished to notice how more successful his biographical books sold compared to his own books.

She winced and covered her ears as Eric,onstage, wrestled with his microphone."Sorry about that, guys!" he yelled. "All right. I'm Eric, and this is my homeboy Matt on the drums. My first poem is called 'Untitled.'" He screwed up his face as if in pain, and wailed into the mike. "Come my faux juggernaut, my nefarious loins! Slather every protuberance with arid zeal!"Simon slid down in his seat. "Please don't tell anyone I know him."Clary giggled. "Who uses the word 'loins'?""Eric," Simon said grimly. "All his poems have loins in them."'Turgid is my torment!" Eric wailed. "Agony swells within!""You bet it does," Clary said.

...I fell asleep and had a dream that a king was liquidated by a group of kind faces...

If I lived a million lives, I would've felt a million feelings and I still would've fallen a million times for you.

you need to be careful with me.i fall in loveand i fall in love forever.

I hate and love. And why, perhaps you’ll ask.I don’t know: but I feel, and I’m tormented.

Since it has quietly began to snow,new distances have awakened within me.

A Poet never denies creativity entrance.

The machines are too dull when weare lion-poems that move & breathe.

I build boxesand place them at your feet,to measure the distance between dreams and reality.

Don’t be afraid of failures it takes courage to try new things & only those who try create History.

It is strange how a scrap of poetry works in the mind and makes the legs move in time to it along the road.

love is myself in the mirror.i will see love every time.

In greatness, life and death merge.

Your greatest dreams will always slumber within the vicious depths of fear.

There’s a pressure at all hours of the day only a poem can assuage.

Call me crazy, but there is something terribly wrong with this city.

Here’s to the “so-so-ing” it.Here’s to the working since I was 14 in a smoke clouded day. Here’s to saying I could stay until the forms were faxed.Here’s to driving home past dark and dozing off the road.Here’s to no over time.Here’s to the long line to management.Here’s to ALREADY DONE THAT!Here’s to quitting, saying I’m through, saying I can’t compete for your leftover lean cuisine. Here’s to art. Here’s to freedom. Here’s to saying God gave me every penny and knowing it’s true. Here’s to the next 40 years with you.Here’s to the new.— Adrianna Stepiano

When she smiled at me, I felt unborn poems stirring within.

I've never seen beauty so devastatingas in the linesthat trace our hopeand fall from the stars.

Tip and Lulu shared a smile… and what can we say? Best friends were made that day. Marafiki milele was what they would stay. Their laughter could be heard for miles around. It truly was a wonderful sound.

i sometimes think i'm too in love with alone. who could i love more than this peace?

Love what is simple and beautiful. These are the essentials.

[Fiction and poetry] are medicines, they're doses, and they heal the rupture that reality makes on the imagination.

I find no peace, and all my war is done,I fear and hope; I burn and freeze like ice;I fly above the wind yet can I not arise;And naught I have and all the world I seize on.That looseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison,And holdeth me not, yet can I scape nowise;Nor letteth me live nor die at my devise,And yet of death it giveth none occasion.Without eyen I see, and without tongue I plain;I desire to perish, and yet I ask health;I love another, and thus I hate myself;I feed me in sorrow, and laugh in all my pain.Likewise displeaseth me both death and lifeAnd my delight is causer of this strife.

One hand I extend into myself, the other toward others.

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.

you'd take one look at me and whole pieces of the earth would break off and fall away finally leaving me alone with you.

I believe eros dwells in our innermost being as the spirit of creative expression. To me, eros is a great path that we must walk, a song we listen to, a game that we hunt and enjoy, a lesson to learn, a garden where flowers bloom, a prodigious puzzle to solve, a book to read, a chapter to write, and an ocean to swim in. That’s what eros is to me.

Everybody needs to be good-natured with a good heart, because in this way we can solve our own problems as well as those of others, and we can make our human life meaningful.

all the wordsall the poems know my warm, soft spots.

I have been so very, very fortunate in my life. I've met or been in contact with several of my childhood heroes. I've interacted with people all over this planet, and even though I couldn't possibly hope to remember all their names, I remember a photograph, a poem, a sound, a joke, kind words of encouragement. All is not lost.