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Poetry Quote of the day
Writing poetry and reading books causes brain damage.
A book of verses underneath the boughA flask of wine, a loaf of bread and thouBeside me singing in the wildernessAnd wilderness is paradise now.
We ran as if to meet the moon.
How can the bird that is born for joySit in a cage and sing?How can a child, when fears annoy, But droop his tender wing, And forget his youthful spring?
Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall.
One need not be a chamber to be haunted.
It is always fatal to have music or poetry interrupted.
It’s the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I’m a woman Phenomenally.
Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted
Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one's soul, and does not startle it or amaze it with itself, but with its subject.
Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry.
Besides, a long poem is a test of invention, which I take to be the Polar star of Poetry, as Fancy is the sails - and Imagination the rudder.
There's an old saying that applies to me: you can't lose a game if you don't play the game. (Act 1, scene 4)
One need not be a Chamber — to be Haunted — One need not be a House — The Brain has Corridors — surpassing Material Place —
the gods play nofavorites.
If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel.
Love's language is imprecise, fits more like mittens than gloves.
Never durst a poet touch a pen to writeUntil his ink was tempered with love's sighs.
the gods seldomgivebut so quicklytake.
A poem is never a put-up job, so to speak. It begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It is never a thought to begin with.
beware women grownoldwho were neveranything butyoung
Looks like what drives me crazyDon't have no effect on you--But I'm gonna keep on at itTill it drives you crazy, too.
So come to the pond, or the river of your imagination, or the harbor of your longing, and put your lips to the world.And live your life.
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art--Not in lone splendour hung aloft the nightAnd watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite.
The way a crowShook down on meThe dust of snowFrom a hemlock treeHas given my heartA change of moodAnd saved some partOf a day I had rued.
that your power of commandwith simple language wasone of the magnificent things ofour century.(from the poem: result)
Go to the poets, they will speak to theeMore perfectly of purer creatures--
If you want me again look for me under your boot soles.
When soul meets soul on lovers' lips.
Truth can never be told so as to be understood and not be believed.
I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
Oh let me live my own! and die so too! ("To live and die is all I have to do:") Maintain a poet's dignity and ease, And see what friends, and read what books I please.
Take the blinders from your visiontake the padding from your earsand confess you've heard me crying and admit you've seen my tears.
If poetry comes not as naturally as the leaves to a tree it had better not come at all.
I've given offense by saying I'd as soon write free verse as play tennis with the net down.
Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -whether it existed before or not
Sugar cane reach up to GodAnd every baby cryingShame the blanket of my nightAnd all my days are dying
Now the New Year reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires.
We both believe, and disbelieve a hundred times an hour, which keeps believing nimble.
We love the things we love for what they are.
What is a woman that you forsake herAnd the hearth fire and the home acreTo go with that old grey widow-maker?
Let me keep my distance, always, from those who think they have the answers.Let me keep company always with those who say "Look!" and laugh in astonishment, and bow their heads.
And I or you pocketless of a dime, may purchase the pick of the earth.
it does seemthe more we drinkthe better the wordsgo.
PoetTo mask the fiery thought, in simple words succeeds.For still the craft of genius is, To mask a king in weeds
Great poetry needs no interpreter other than a responsive heart.
when I am feelinglowall i have to do iswatch my catsand mycouragereturns
Two such as you with such a master speedCannot be parted nor be swept awayFrom one another once you are agreedThat life is only life forevermoreTogether wing to wing and oar to oar
The emmet's inch and eagle's mileMake lame philosophy to smile.He who doubts from what he seesWill ne'er believe, do what you please.- "Auguries of Innocence
It does not need that a poem should be long. Every word was once a poem.