Poetry Quotes

He smelled like a wolf and I knew I should run, instead I opened my heart and invited him in for a bite.

Don't analyze her love. Just turn the green light on and move into her soul.

I loved you unabashedly in the rain, you were real, raw, accustomed to pain. I loved you mostly in the rain, where you exposed your broken soul, unashamed, dancing despite it all.

We didn't just bump into each other or randomly meet. It was more like a soul collision, meant to be.

When it comes to matters of the heart and soul, I'm not a falling kind of girl. I'm more of a slamming, crashing, erupting...

Accidental, unintended connections are the best concocted by the universe long before realizing the moon's heartbeat was waiting for you.

Sometimes, the only things in this world that make sense are the moon, my madness and your hands messing up my hair, while your teeth sink into my soul.

Trying not to let your lack of depth bring out the irritable in me-- there is only so much shallow an ocean can handle.

Kiss with your soul, where lips can never reach. Touch with your eyes, penetrate deep. Love every part, fully, complete.

You are the calmest, fiercest person I know, and that is enough to draw me into your world and woo me into your heart. I've always enjoyed a good paradox and puzzle. You are no exception.

You have that faraway look in your eyes that makes me want to pull you into my dreams, bring you to your knees worshiping me - desperately. You, the nectar and the muse of my poetry.

You carry stories under your bright sad eyes, bag loads and I wish to god I could help you unload.

I could make love with you until the mood decides to never glow again.

Promise me you'll stay and I promise to haunt you in the most heavenly way - with dark devotion and deep emotion.

You will be my thunder. I'll be your lightning. Even the heavens will rage with jealousy.

Take me to that special place where you kiss me and the world forgets to exist.

I thought you might supply some tendernessI lackedBut out of all the things I offered you took mybreath awayand now I want it back

The sun still lives his silent vows to the moon, by bowing to kiss her feet whenever she walks in the room.

You play me with your jazz & leave me with the blues.

Sometimes we find the sweetest solidarity in the midst of solitude.

You can't rock the boat & act like you were just trying to put a baby to sleep.

Do you see how the sky holds the sun?In a powerful but effortless way that shows off her beauty and strength?That's how a King holds his Queen.

There’s a universalunderstanding betweenmen of the silent sorrowa man endures whenhe loses a woman heloves

and tonight we held each other, one last time, like a dance to aslow songon an empty floor, underneath a singledisco ballin front of no oneat all

Two kinds ofpeople will love you:those who confessit, and those whoshow you, likecards on a table, because love isa gamble

AdiosHer pretty picturelying on theground was likethe topplingof somefascistregimeAnd burningthe photograph, was thecelebration

You've got a lot to say for the one who walked away.

But he knew she was a star, and he, only human. He was never meant to reach the stars - he could only admire them from afar.

loveis giving everything too easilythen staying to try and claw it back

I wonderif you ever read my poemsand wish they were writtenfor you.

You are the illness I will never cure. You are the poem I will never write. You are the thought I will never finish. You are the text I will never read.

Inside a home you left me, a blue orphanage. Inside a bluish mosaic, space to live.

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

‪You collide with destiny caught up in the mystery of walking the halls of a mind that's only inclined to recognize & expect victory.‬

Does poem also walk through the valleys seeking tongues from dandelions?

Thoughts are ideas scattered in your head. When written forms a sentence. When rhymed, it forms a phrase and singing it blooms a beautiful poem.

What if the poem loses?What if it never tastes victory like the intent it was written with?

One may never get to know how fast the time travels till the one gets in that position to race against the time.

Go for it because for all those moments that you would make up your mind the other might have already rushed for it.

You may follow the footstepsThe whole day will passWith you going around in circlesYet not reaching anywhere at last!

Time is the real emperor and there is no space for any pride since time flies and blows away anything.

Till the time you realize your conquest you already reach that stage when you start losing the grip.

Sometimes life requires more of you than you have to give & demands you plunge into the reinvention of yourself if you truly wanna live.

A poet is someone whose words can grasp & pull the thread of a person's soul & make them unravel with delight.

Sometimes we need a wise guide to peel back the ceiling of our lives to remind us that infinity never places any limits on our skies.

Develop distinct habits of wreaking havoc on any stinking thinking addicted to launching mental missiles aimed at sinking your unique magic.

We're only lucky enough to see the wonders of nature's canyons because they're gracious enough to show us the places they've been damaged.

Sometimes we must gravitate towards madness before we can levitate on greatness.

Cold feet under a warm blanket, steam over an empty mug--rain splatters on dry window pane--open journals of closed memories... tears of laughter and joy of pain... schmaltz of diametric morning.

From all my dreams where you felt everlastingto all my clothes your words used to wear, to the old end, to the new beginning, you have lost me everywhere.