Poems Quotes - Page 4

Birthing hope from the madnessthat perches on the fenceof our once perfectdreams.

PeterSwirling dreamsDragons knewTouching life to winDeep inside many other worldsWhere should we begin?

Daddy-by Nancy B. BrewerWhen I used to say, speak up you are as good as they, You would just smile and say, let them have their way. When in my foolish youth, I so often disobeyed,He would just smile and say, let her have her way. When summer passed and winter overcame. He was not afraid, never once did he say. When in the moonlight his final hour came, He just smiled and said Lord I'll go your way.

My atoms love you atoms, it’s chemistry. 

Sometimes life is like living in a chamber of Liquid Oxygen. Liquid don't allow you to live and Oxygen don't let you die.

Her breast is fit for pearls,But I was not a "Diver" - Her brow is fit for thronesBut I have not a crest,Her heart is fit for home-I- a Sparrow- build thereSweet of twigs and twineMy perennial nest.

Strong people don't put others down. They lift them up and slam them on the ground for maximum damage.

Inside a home you left me, a blue orphanage. Inside a bluish mosaic, space to live.

She sat in her perfect house, with her perfect husband, wishing that her perfect life would end.

I could simply kill you now, get it over with, who would know the difference? I could easily kick you in, stove you under, for all those times, mean on gin, you rammed words into my belly. (p. 52)

The prettiest girls shine brightest in the dark. 

i am permanentlytannedin the summer of poetry.

Blankly expressing oneself can be stronger than words.

To write good poems is the secret of brevity.

If I were to sit on the ocean floor and look toward the sky,I might see a whale or electric eel or octopus pass by.And if I decided to jump straight up and reach with open arms,I might feel the pleasure of ocean flight propel me ’mid their swarms.But if I were seated upon the shore and looking toward the stars,I might see a comet or falling star near Mercury or Mars.Then if I decided to jump straight up and reach with open hands,I might feel despair when my feet refused to leave the shoreline sand.And so I return to the ocean depths where swimming creatures fly,For there I can soar with the whales and fish that daily touch the sky.

How could I live above the water or breathe under it. How could I swim in darkness consumed in an ocean of you? Falling or flying towards you, losing or finding myself in you and beauty was never the word to catch all that you are. For now I know the means of the infinite and it all starts and ends with you.

I'm sick of the images trapped in my headI'm sick of being preoccupied with the dead

The gray sea and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low: And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow,And quench its speed i’ the slushy sand.

Nails that claw by a beautiful mind.A pretty face can leave you blind - Poem 'Small Pain' from 'The B Word: The B in LBGTQ Poetry'.

A touch so tenderBliss of sweet words fills of desire Open Hearts of sweet surrender Nightly poison gas the fire. A quite place to romance Touches as we held hands. No loud words spoken, but whispers Just Heart, promises to be kept No tales being told tonight. No looking back ­ no regrets. Longing for this momentSuch complacent little time. We vowed to another. Being lonely is the only hate within my heart. Tomorrow bringing sorrow. A smoke of Marlboro to release myself. A brief moment of blame with shame With memories reflecting back to those nights. A release from compassion's flames.

You kissed me that morning as if you’d never done it before and never would again and now I write another letter that I will never dare to send, collecting memories of loss like chains tight around my chest,and if you see a fire from the shore tonightit’s my chains going up in flames.

it is to be savored like a seabreeze-whispereddream...in the mysteriousblue minutesbefore dawnlike a secretinfatuation.... like slowlanguorous sipsof green tea... like a lingeringglimpsea self-wrappedparadiselike his name upon my lips.

A sacred soul Thus, within the cosmic creation proceed Life is precious as gold Death will come In a better place, where there’s no earthly lifeEternity exist...God..... Judgement falls upon usNothing to minus and nothing to plus Only the truthIn a better place where there’s no cuss They say tranquility exist hereNo fussNo sorrowA better place with great yarrow It will come in the morrowIn present times Life is but a Dream

Bridge burned from end to end,and I don't miss you anymore.You delivered silenceI've birthed freedom.

LIFE - Death's Very Emissary

Listen.Do you see that you can’t hear snowfall?Look.Do you sensethat you can’t see love?Touch.Do you graspthat you can’t catch poems?Try.Smell this glass. Go on taste this cloud.These material senses won’t get you far untilyou feelthe velvet glove caress your soul.

I love being able to see an un-written future.

We are all born free and spend a lifetime becoming slaves to our own false truths.

i am like the moon--sometimes, full.sometimes, black.sometimes,forever and ever alone.

My demons creep like a pedo in a park full of kids. Each one reminding me of the consequences, what I didn’t do, or did.

While he sweated out a story she bled put a poem. (Dark City Lights)

be good to yourselfyou're the only youyou'll ever get

Through windows,in wishing wells,whispering in the wind...that's where I find you.

If water won't smother the blazeFather, take my tears and bestow them on the firesee if the fires will wither.

Beer bottles, whiskey bottles, brown glass, green. They fell to the lawn and I'd feel serene. Adam was king to my stilted queen.

Some people like me, some don't. I don't understand, Where the difference comes from. My heart like them all. For a simple childish reason. We all are created equal, we all are humans.

Said the Sun to the Moon-'When you are but a lonely white crone,And I, a dead King in my golden armour somewhere in a dark wood,Remember only this of our hopeless loveThat never till Time is doneWill the fire of the heart and the fire of the mind be one

A poem in the heart is worthmore than a million dollarsin the bank account.

Sealing your lips makes your eyes talk Truth creeps beneath your lame feet’s walk Knees stiffen when blood vessels stalk A pounding heart’s lies hard as rock

THE RIGHTPOEM FINDS US EXACTLY WHEN IT NEEDS TO.—ATTICUS

She awaits the rain like a writer embraces metaphors,A drizzle isn't for the child who dances in the storm.Of rain that washes away the petrichor it brings,A downpour of a hail of bullets, and she calls it spring.

Between the MileI have always counted the miles.Sometimes they came quick,Other times slow.The distance between things,The way I could know.Close could feel far,And far could feel near.The miles that passed too quickly,The ones I ran out of fear.They weren’t all the same,So I had been told,The unmarked trails,And the days I was bold.Some miles went down,Spiraling so low,When I was afraid to look forward,There was nowhere to go.The sunset came fast,And the day turned to night,But the trails could be endless,If I looked at them right.Everything I knew,All I was told,The conversations left behind,The people who grew old.When the miles stretched out before me,I wanted to sew them at the seam,Looking forward and then back,Holding everything in between.

You hid in my ink and guided my hand. You stained the pages with your silence as God wrote the words, "Be still." Yet, my heart's blindness could only write in loud hues of red, "I love you.

Devil’s WishA bowl of spellsSwirls a mixSmoke and bubblesSeek the fixYoung boy's eyeAnd fever fewWitches grassSome mandrake root

Find answers in your weakness and surprise in your strength and always remember the golden rule every failure has HOPES

It's a lonelything, protecting a breakable heart

I finally wentwhere everyone goesand I realizedI wasnevermissingout.

Ill love you with every little bit of everything that has ever consumed me and I will forever love you and forever find you in every life time and so on. Until the stars die out and the universe leaps but even then, my love will remain.

You should gofrom place to placerecovering the poemsthat have been written for youto which you can affix your signature.Don't discuss these matterswith anyone.Retrieve. Retrieve.When the basket is fullsomeone will appearto whom you can present it.

In Flanders fields the poppies blowBetween the crosses, row on rowThat mark our place; and in the skyThe larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns belowWe are the DeadShort days agoWe lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow/Loved, and were loved, and now we lieIn Flanders FieldsTake up our quarrel with the foeTo you from failing hands we throw The torchbe yours to hold it highIf ye break faith with us who dieWe shall not sleep/though poppies growIn Flanders Fields

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.

a politician is an arse uponwhich everyone has sat except a man

The attention was flattering. For the first five minutes. Now I know how poems feel.

I am not sad anymore. I am not weak or tender or quiet like you remember because the second you said those words and closed that door, I sold my soul to the part of myself I had buried in order to love you, to let you touch every inch of my rotten body, for I wanted to be touchable and not so strange. Not so sad and tender, like I’ve always been, they say, so I changed. And then your glances and words throwing knives with no return about my change of habits and ways of living, being, and I nodded and smiled, dying silently a little bit inside.

..Breaking yet budding,dying yet living - standingamongst ruins and rage,reaching for possibilitiesplaying hard to get.

I love you in my very own way.Like a stone loves the mosses around itLike a sea loves the pebbles in itLike a coincidence...Taking you as the way you are,With all the bruises, scars and broken parts all around you and your heart.I love you in my very own wayBy throwing the stone, the mosses, the sea and the pebbles to your headLike i want to kill you.Just because of envying the love That my heart spend on you.

And then, as I got older,I left the woods and lookedat fading stars, dying stars,eternal stars in their heavens,with lips that would kiss and wordsshaped through love songs,a life of journeys to some placefar from home, unfamiliar,(a wild weird western shore)until sunset across limestoneprompts us to make these,our plagiarised prayersto broken stone.

Of everythingI have ever endured,YOUareMy Favourite Tragedy.

you came in slowly like the fog and consumed me.

There are no barriers to poetry or prophecy; by their nature they are barrier-breakers, bursts of perceptions, lines into infinity. If the poet lies about his vision he lies about himself and in himself; this produces a true barrier.