Poetry Love Quotes - Page 2

Kill the part of you that believes it can't survive without someone else.

Careful.The fall is quick,steep,and permanent.

Wipe those tears, as they have cleansed your soul.

We have conversations most nights, Sylvia Plath and me. On these cold wintry nights with our coffee mugs in hand, we talk for hours and hours, Sylvia Plath and me!

I see the beauty in you, and the darkness. Both are brilliant.

We simply can’t feel fulfilled by love we pay for.

how these words, wait to diein the arms of all the poetry..yet to be written.

I am a wildflower in your perfect bed of roses.

Creation of a pregnant imagination.

I wait on my fix:I am a poetry junkie.

Must I wonder if your thoughts are of me? If you are missing me, wanting me, creating heart beats and poet-less words for me? [ i do…]

all the parts of mei did not show youwere the onesi wanted you to notice.

all my lifei have looked for poemsto elope with.

But then you left exactly how all the sad songs said you would

Frequent friction when love becomes political.

I close my eyes to indulge and reminisce of a sunset that never existed.

Honor a good woman because she is virtuous and honorable.

Kiss the lips upon me once, and I shall never tell.

Where will I find you now that my heart is yours?Where should I search? I don’t know where to look.You fill my heart with desire and love,The perfume of the lotus, the grace of a dove.But then the dove flies far, far away,All that is left is a song for my harp strings to play.A voice in my memories like an angel of grace,Where can I find you? Do you know how I pray?Where will I find you now that my love belongs to you?Wherever your heart beats, I’m dreaming of you.Now and forever my love belongs to you…Now and forever my love belongs to you…

In this storyI am the poetYou're the poetry.

Written soul is called poetry

My Love wakes in a puddle of sunlight.Her hands asleep beside her.Her hair draped on the lawnlike a mantle of cloth.I give her my lifefor our love is wholeI sing her beauty in my soul.

I bleed to un-break you,un-mending me.I fall to save you...now who will save me.

I must find you. So I travel to the depths of hell and conquer perverse monsters and repulsive demons and the deceitful vicious devil himself to find the truth.

You are the poemthat sticks in my throatteaching me to whisperwith the voice of my heart.

After all these years, all I know is, I need not to do anything as a part of remorse.All I need is to write.Because,'Poetry forgives.

You are a fantastic scheme of captivating ecstasy.

Love will find you when you least expect it to. It will come unannounced and find you in an unusual moment on the strangest of days!

I was just an option.Blown easily to piecesand offered to the skyby the sweet laced painupon your lips.

Did you know that Bharatiyar used the pen name “Shelley-dasan”? He admired the poems of Shelley so deeply that he wrote under the name “Shelley’s servant”. Wasn’t that a wonderful gesture of humility by someonewho was such a great poet himself? And later, Bharatiyar had his own dasan, the poet Subburathinam, who tookthe pen name Bharathidasan. Subburathinam’s poetry inspired yet another poet who wrote as Surada, short for Subburathina-dasan. And to think this long chain of inspiration spans centuries, going back to the poets who inspired Wordsworth, who inspired Shelley, who inspired our own Bharati.

Decades from now, my grandchild is going to be a poet... And she's going to write about how she's a living testament to how her grandmother made love to hurricane and calmed the storm.

some words bring warmthjust bybeing next to each other.

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

The beauty of words will forever be stronger than the silence of tears.

Reminiscent of a diamond, she is gifted, privileged, and positioned to glisten.

In you I see an immaculate woman full of feminine grace and untarnished beauty.

There is a tender breeze Wafting around hereFeel it from your Soul You will see Magic over hereDid I just now hear a beautiful symphony over here ?Or is it just your soothing words murmuring in my ear?Is it the cute mynah bird on my shoulder?Or is it your soft head nestling that I feel so tender? There is a tender breeze Wafting around hereFeel it from your SoulYou will see Magic over here...Did I just now hear the nightingale sing around here?Or is it the breeze whispering softly to the trees near?Is that you giggling away to glory? Or is that just the flowers mingling with the bees and telling their story?There is a tender breeze Wafting around hereFeel it from your SoulYou will see Magic over here..

You should be more carefulwhen you move, my dearwhat with you...spilling moonlightinto my poem, with a mereflick of your hand.

You read my words and instantly we are both connected

why do people pour water on concrete expecting something to grow from it" AP

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

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

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

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

Don't be afraid of Pain. Pain only comes down to a certain point... beyond that, it can't reach you and the love you have inside.

Love did not die. I still create your image to my heart every solitary night.

Moments caught in time. Simple memories spread out before me. Timeless reminders of how life goes on, even when it feels as if you cannot.

Why do I love poetry? It's more than word play, less about the pay. Let's just say that for the first time in along while I stopped running, stared back at my darkest worst and said, 'Come here, you belong with me

It was her laughter that made me love her. Her shy inappropriate madness is what made her beautiful.

And you’re a tall drink of water because we’re so fucking thirsty

She gave me hugs that were like oxygen to a dying man and uplifted my soul!

All beautiful distractions, ignites from you.

I asked of the limitless sunshineHow to shine with the dawn's glowing light;No answer came back from the sunshine, But my soul heard a whisper, "Burn bright!

I promised her that I would never kiss and tell, but I have to tell someone about my dreams and fairytales. So I’m telling you that I kissed her.

Romance her, enhance her, desire her, put her first.

Why do I love poetry? It's more than word play, less about the pay. Let's just say that for the first time in a long while I stopped running, stared back at my darkest worst and said, 'Come here, you belong with me

My emotions have already spilled out on a canvas; I need you my king, to rescue me from the madness!

I looked at an angel today, but the angel could not see me. The angel was more amazing than beautiful, like the best forgotten dream.

You can run from the truth. You can run and hide from the truth.You can deny and avoid the truth. But you cannot destroy the truth. Nor can you make the lie true. You must know that love will always uncover the truth.