Poems Quotes
I’m a man of integrity. My heart is locked and I have given you the only key.
...and I laugh and I spin and dance and frolic in ecstasy and I... I hurt no more, while you...you petrified little man, are left to wonder if it's you I speak of.
Rain's pouring and it's too cold. All people bored and I even accord What to do but spell a tale told: So once upon a time a land in the shore...
I heard the breeze whisper your name to the trees. And the flowers giggled smiling at the leaves. I and my loneliness keep talking about you.
At times poems can be like riddles, too difficult to decipher or comprehend. But how else does one come to understand what can only be felt but not said?
I'm two days away from day after tomorrowCounting the hours to my upcoming sorrow Suddenly I lookinto the eyes of my childThen all sadness goneas I smile the way she smiled
I exaggerateThere is a lie in my truthLook! My soul is blue
May the nights always be aglowwith the bliss of the daywith unharmed hands and feetand kissed cheeks.
The poet drafts his work as a writer but edits it as a sculptor, with his pen as a chisel and his mind a hammer.
Like a speeding trainI am passing by...I don’t knowwhere I’m headingwith whom or whyall I know is thatI will never, everpass from here againall I know is I’m skidding forwardon this track of life.
I live there...Far above the song-filled clouds, where the dewdrops touch my skin so bareI live there.
let me diefrom having being drunk onindigo skies, my liver...overflowing with stars.
the ocean mist engulfs me, like a lifetime’s friendship honored.
some poems frothand foam and rise...out of my morning cup ofmist-sweetened coffee.
To truly understand poetry one must understand themselves from within one’s self.
If the poets offered us nothing more than another make-believe world, they would be mere sellers of drugs or, at best, sweetmeats.
It must have been an endless breathing in: between the wish to know and the wish to praise there was no seam.
The sea waves stirred before methey dashed against the rocksLike a mermaid rising from its depthscurled white sea foam were her locks...
The words we construct, the poems we write and the songs we sing, become the love story of a stranger we have never seen.
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.
I never wanted to be saved, just loved in ways that would make the Gods jealous.
I cast my eyes out to the seaAnd gaze at all eternity.until forever turns to night.My eyes then lift to catch starlight.
A pumpkin lives but once a year when someone sets its soul afire and on that night it stirs up fear until its flame is snuffed.But e'en one night of eerie light is fright enough.
We do not admire their president.We know why the White House is white.We do not find their children irresistible
Long have I dwelt forgotten hereIn pining woe and dull despair
You listen to people, you listen so deeply that you can hear their past lives, The crackle of their funeral pyres,
Technology is grey. More technology, less colors. We're building a world with colors only in poems.
I touched curiosity, I kissed sin, I felt regret, And I was forgiven.But life won't let me forget.
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.
Every moment of the nightForever changing placesAnd they put out the star-lightWith the breath from their pale faces
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.
But who are we, where do we come fromWhen all those yearsNothing but idle talk is leftAnd we are nowhere in the world?"= MEETING =
only kindness that raises its headfrom the crowd of the world to sayit is I you have been looking for, and then goes with you everywherelike a shadow or a friend.
Good folk, I have no coin, To take were to purloin:I have no copper in my purse, I have no silver either, And all my gold is on the furzeThat shakes in windy weatherAbove the rusy heather.
Beer bottles, whiskey bottles, brown glass, green. They fell to the lawn and I'd feel serene. Adam was king to my stilted queen.