Poems Quotes - Page 5

you have outgrown this skin.stop trying to hold it in.stop trying to hold it together.let yourself break.

How do poems grow? They begin deep down in the pit of the soul as a seedling of a thought …

i can't hold onto love.i'm not gentle enough.i always end upcrushing the thingin between my fingertips.

& love is an evil word. Turn it backwards/see, see what I mean? An evol word.

I balance you on the end of my pen.Teetering between loveand letting go.

There's a story behind every "I don't believe in love""Period

Love doesn't always mean rings and veils and walks down the aisle.Sometimes love means broken windows and broken hearts,and not being able to fix either. And sometimes love means telling you, there's no such thing as time in Heaven so don't rush to meet me. Stay a while, and pick, girl, the roses.

Don't be afraid of poetry.

A poem that is itself a name does not yearn for the name of its creator, but shines from its name alone.

You become a house where the wind blows straight through, because no one bothers the crack in the window or lock on the door, and you’re the house where people come and go as they please, because you’re simply too unimpressed to care. You let people in who you really shouldn’t let in, and you let them walk around for a while, use your bed and use your books, and await the day when they simply get bored and leave. You’re still not bothered, though you knew they shouldn’t have been let in in the first place, but still you just sit there, apathetic like a beggar in the desert.

EVERYTHINGWE LOVE ISWELL ARRANGED DUST. - ATTICUS

Aflame in black ecstasy, orders extinguished:after deathhow will I know my love was true,this sacrifice not an exercise in vanity?

t is silly to think they all achieved it "just like that". nothing in life is so easy, that is a fact.Behind the scenes were tears and pain,they stumbled and fell but got up again. They heard a voice, firm and true"Muster yourself you'll make it through"Steadied by a hand they arose to dancein the turmoil and storm with perseverance At the end, it came upon them; a light so brightsuccess was theirs: it was their right!

All is as if the world did cease to exist. The city's monuments go unseen, its past unheard, and its culture slowly fading in the dismal sea.

I arrived, I saw humans and I saw through their faces. Nothing ever changes but the light in their eyes. For I too have buried my demons today, without knowing what might remain beneath the face of tomorrow.

We are made of all those who have built and broken us.

It's physics. Pure physics,I'm falling fast and faster still.So fall with me. Fall down with me.And stay.

In The Shadow Of The NightAll the clouds are gray, and the sky is dark as night. Soft words are spoken, and there's a twinkle, of a flicker of light.The presence of a Man walks by, and Mighty and Powerful is He.Kneeling down to pray, He says a prayer for me.The sky becomes brighter, and the leaves of the trees turn green.The flowers begin to bloom, and there's a warm gentle breeze.Thank you Lord for setting me free...

A novel is a hearty meal, but poems are the Belgian chocolates of the bookshelf. You can pick one and linger over it. Savour the aroma, the taste, the melting texture, the sweet craving it leaves behind! Or you can scoff down as many as you can eat. It’s up to you.

IF you want to be a winner than follow one simple rule and feed it in your mind. Take each task and work as " Do it yourself project.

Every poet will forever try to write the greatest poem ever written, I have found that this kind of poem can be written with “One” word. And that word consists of a beauty beyond any measure to man and one of the most beauty creations to grace the presents of man. That one word poem is…….. “YOU

He thought of trying to explain something he had recently noticed about himself: that if anyone insulted him, or one of his friends, he didn't really mind--or not much, anyway. Whereas if anyone insulted a novel, a story, a poem that he loved, something visceral and volcanic occurred within him. He wasn't sure what this might mean--except perhaps that he had got life and art mixed up, back to front, upside down.

I always felt it wouldpass.I listened to the charges against meknowing some of them to be truebut certainly notimportant enoughto become the target ofviolence, envy,vengeance.I thought it would surelypass.

True poetry is embarrassing.

How long you will live in your dreams? The time is now, it's better to go and follow them..

I can't love anymore.Except for you...I love you so much it hurts to breathe.

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

i just want to be honest about my feelings without destroying everything.

do not let anyone inuntil they love you so fiercely,you have no defense against their love.

a flower knows, when its butterfly will return, and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand;but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon,when I don't know, if you will ever come back.

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

MISUNDERSTANDING" arises only when you see the things with Closed Eyes

I can’t help but ask, “Do you know where you are?”She turns to me with a foreboding glare. “Do you?

oh. she heard it too-no waters coursing, canyon empty, sun soundless- and the beast your life nowhere hiding (p. 103)

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.

When You See Millions of the Mouthless Dead"When you see millions of the mouthless deadAcross your dreams in pale battalions go,Say not soft things as other men have said,That you'll remember. For you need not so.Give them not praise. For, deaf, how should they knowIt is not curses heaped on each gashed head?Nor tears. Their blind eyes see not your tears flow.Nor honour. It is easy to be dead.Say only this, "They are dead." Then add thereto,"Yet many a better one has died before."Then, scanning all the o'ercrowded mass, should youPerceive one face that you loved heretofore,It is a spook. None wears the face you knew.Great death has made all his for evermore.

The greatest adventure is to have no fear for the blaze that lies ahead.

Have and show motivation to do and learn. That's the key for a good career. Everything else is an extrapolation of that.

We are all a little broken, looking for something whole to hang on to. But sometimes, what seems whole is even more broken than we are.

At the end of the day I went to this place where your memories left footsteps on my skin and the breath of your touch stained my desire. Yea, it was one of those nights where I needed you the most.

i am changingand i am loving change.

O Sailor!It’s the way I want to beIt’s beyond the pale for meIt’s what being unknown is all aboutIt’s the path I choose to takeIt’s the destiny I makeIt’s my life now – the only way outOut of circulation in another dimensionI carry you right inside my heartAs we’re one, moulded togetherAlways and forever, never apartIt’s a world where I’m aloneIt’s a place where I can atoneIt’s a severing of all ties I knowI feel so free and yet I’m boundI’m invisible and yet aroundI know I’ve got to go with the flowMy life now is like a sailboat ride,Destiny is the wind – with you by my side,I’m the sailor, who sets the course,Empowered by an incredible force.

Emotional pain was the price I paid on the path to becoming a woman. So excuse me if I’m not clueless like a little girl.

God would seem to indicate to us and not allow us to doubt that these beautiful poems are not human, or the work of man, but divine and the work of God; and that the poets are only the interpreters of the Gods...

i want so much to touch youwhere my hands cannot.

Our songslive longer thanour kingdoms.

I didn't come looking for you the day you uninvitedly appeared on my doorstepHow did we go from nonchalant conversation me waiting for you to turn me off with corny jokes and mind dumbing conversationto loveTo love and mind blowing chemistry that I've yet to make sense of What are you here to teach me?

The most important subject in the curriculum in the future years will be how to love ourselves and be content.

Some of us die long before our last breath. We perish in the fire of love, reduced to ashes in the consuming blaze. No, we do not die when our hearts cease to beat, but when they start beating the first timefor someone else.

No poet can stay alive solely in his/her poetry etched in papers, it is the reader audience in whom the poets breath forever.......

woman--another word for beginning.another word for revolution.another word for healing.another word for being.another word for me.

While gazing at myself from yourself, I was beautiful.

When Love Was NewWhen love was newand life was young,and once we walkedin gracious sun,I never dreamt of darker days,or feared that fate had cruel ways.When life was strongand love was free,and time was onceeternity -we never planned for more or less,nor stopped to think we should digress.When love was youngand life was new,and everythingwas once our due,I never doubted what I owned,nor knew the cost was merely loaned.Now love is triedand life is old,and still my feetdrag down the road -not knowing where it all has gone,nor how much more it still goes on.But life grows newand love gets old,and this tired heartstays off the cold -not caring it compares with fools,nor wise enough to fear the rules.-Drea Damara

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.

For all those who say its a Man world. Respect Women Its their World we are just guest here

Love's alchemical power is nevermore clear than in the moments when we least expect it to grace our lives; for love transforms, love transcends, love awakens.

The thing about our choices is that after we have made them, they turn around and make us.

Its all about perception in life, For some One minus One = One & for some its Zero.That's the only difference.

If the poets offered us nothing more than another make-believe world, they would be mere sellers of drugs or, at best, sweetmeats.

May the nights always be aglowwith the bliss of the daywith unharmed hands and feetand kissed cheeks.