Poems Quotes - Page 6

Mathematics doesn’t care about those beyond the numbers.

Suddenly I remembered that laugh, it told a different story, our story.

No matter how right or how beautiful your path is, never try to impose your path on others! Remember that flowers by no means pull bees by force to their world! Your path is your poem; if people like your poem, they will fondly join you in your path!

Where Do You Show Up to Share What You Have to Offer?When You Love What You Do-You Share It Daily

There is bad in all good authors: what a pity the converse isn't true!

Poems are surmountable. They have rhymes and rhythms to help you make meaning. They're short enough. . . to read and reread until you've made some sense of them. Short stories are a different ballgame. You read them and understand the words completely. You know what happens in each sentence. You follow the dialogue and action. at the end, you know exactly what's happened. And also you have no idea.

If I had to choose between all the books in the world and you, then I would choose to read your body for the rest of my life.

I wrote her story because she wanted to live forever and I loved her far more with every word, too much! Even in death her life sought out beauty, for her moments were consumed with love and I could never write such a story without her stars flaming in my heart.

Through the darkest hours of the nightand through the dreamers realm I seek,Far beyond the starry skyand beyond galaxies I am free.Through the grimmest memoriesand past a seasons air I cannot breathe,Far beyond this mortal worldin an afterlife we shall meet.

What else is a poem about?The rhythm and the images buried in the language. All the ways you can build an emotion with words, but you can't just write 'I feel sad.' I mean, you can, but it's not poetry... I think it has to be experienced instead of studied. You step into it.

Writing poems is simply an excuse to remember You.

That was her magic— she could still see the sunseteven on those darkest days.

Somewhere along the way we all go a bit mad. So burn, let go and dive into the horror, because maybe it’s the chaos which helps us find where we belong.

If you are depressed, you are living in the past. If you are anxious, you are living in the future

Two powerful factors which creates difference between destroying your relationship and deepening it are EGO and Attitude

THE WILD ROSE” – BY WENDELL BERRYSometimes, hidden from me in daily custom and in ritualI live by you unaware, as if by the beating of my heart.Suddenly you flare again in my sightA wild rose at the edge of the thicket where yesterday there was onlyshadeAnd I am blessed and choose again,That which I chose before.

let your love cover me like skin.i want the whole world to see.

To enjoy a peaceful & Beautiful Life We should open our 'EYE' and Close our 'I

i took it off.i did not want to carry it with me anymore.

the sapphire depthof my own love...startlesand warmsand wounds my soul.

It does not need that a poem should be long. Every word was once a poem.

All I need to dois place my pen against paperand your lovewrites for me.

Instead of imitating me, you simply loiter.

She was rare, few and far betweenShe suspected he would be as wellAnd the thought of two rare, few and far between individualsDoing all that was necessary for that rare, few and far between Meeting to occurDrove her to write

The Ph.D is one of the chosen who know that some things can never be fathomed, no matter how hard you try. What good are explanations? There is no possibility of explaining how such a work [Mozart's Requiem, in the instance] could ever have come into being. (The same holds true for certain poems, which should not be analyzed either.)

Gazing from the moon, we see one earth, without borders, Mother Earth, her embrace encircling one people, humankind.

everyone is in a hurry and things are always disappearing, and i am always left standing here--alone, waiting for the things that stay.

The poems are all wrong. It's a bang, a really big bang. Not a whimper. And sometimes gold can stay.

I'll gladly settle for amnesia if I had to live in a world where I couldn't remember how much you mean to me.

TO what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. The sun is hot on my neck as I observe The spikes of the crocus. The smell of the earth is good. It is apparent that there is no death. But what does that signify? Not only under ground are the brains of men Eaten by maggots. Life in itself Is nothing, An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs. It is not enough that yearly, down this hill, April Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

I travel, always arriving in the same place.

You deserve the love your soul craves for.Don't settle.

everything i know about loveis that it hurtsand is almost always never returnedthe way you want it to.but i have hopebecause i do not know everything.

No map to help us find the tranquil flat lands, clearings calm, fields without mean fences. Rolling down the other side of life our compass is the sureness of ourselves. Time may make us rugged, ragged round the edges, but know and understand that love is still the safest place to land.

I die a little,In the echo of your silence.

Poems should be like pins which prick the skin of boredom and leave a glow equal in its pride to the gate of the sadist who stuck the pin and walked away

[poems are] crystals deposited after the effervescent contact of the spirit with reality.(cristaux deposes apres l'effervescent contact de l'esprit avec la realite)

Is stuffed, de world, wif feeding girls.

Thinking of you is a poison I drink often. 

This heart is a hurricane, turbulent with ache screaming winds of grief waiting to make the skyfall, to pluck the cloudsfrom their beds with itswhipping winds

Live a life that leaves a memory, nobody can steal.

In the end, you will realize most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.

Was not writing poetry a secret transaction, a voice answering a voice?

in the endit is wordspoetry. sunsetssomeone’s deep blue silk voice.mountain scents.someone’s smile.eyes. that we haveno defenses against.

I found an empty chairand sat on itto find myself even emptier.I found a broken glassand looked at itto see my dissolved facea little prettierI found a steep doorwayand enteredin order to close my exit.From the poem 'Blue Stanzas

The shadow of a character is defined by its maker...while a heroine is personified by its actions and relatability. So writers can create a world with a heroine that has impact and finish with everessence lights at the dims of its shadows

A lot of pain that we are dealing with are really only THOUGHTS.

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

Every moment of the nightForever changing placesAnd they put out the star-lightWith the breath from their pale faces

Create your own path.Don't blindly follow the massess... because most of the time the "M" is silent.

But I have seen the best of you and the worst of you, and I choose both

Fear is the most prodigious enemy of our soul

Our CrossOur little circle hides in the mind,It's difficult to miss but hard to find,It goes unspoken but yet it speaks,From backward years to forward weeks,We can't forget but why even try,Two of a kind doesn't know goodbye,It's a silent question that God won't share,A breeze we feel but seems unfair,Distant, rare but only madness can see,It's something deeper than any infinity,Because we walk this parallel path up and down,There is no circle to hold us circus clowns,So let's give it a symbol and label it a loss,We will remember it always as we carry our cross.

Maybe I hope too much. Maybe I dream too much or maybe I love too much to just give up on you.

I enjoy it when the world smiles; the more smiles, the warmer I am.

I feel your words on my lipsand feel your mood in my hips

Poems are soft kitten furs. smoothing out the rough edges of my world.

keep following your heart.it won't always be easy, but it'll be the most important thing you'll do.

Master the art of selfloveand you will never have to seekvalidationever again.

Don't compare her to sunshine and roses when she's clearly orchids and moonlight.