Poetry Quotes

Chaos, leave me never, keep me wildand keep me freeso that mybrokenness will be, the only beautythe world will see.

There is a warin your nameI have martyred yousold you to freedomoh, Freedom

If the colour of life turns grey turn the palette the other way

...methinks the older that one grows, Inclines us more to laugh the scold, though laughterLeaves us so doubly serious shortly after.

What does "poet laureate" mean? Nothing. It means a person with laurel branches twined around his head. Which is not something people do much now.

Had a cold hummus with pita bread, Under a delicious food, yellow or red. Might just have the appetite to cook Urgent dinner by hook or crook.So that's just a humus humor spread.

The U.K. should begin with an FAnd have a C after the U, And it should end in E DNow that we’ve left the E.U.

We danced with the devil with demons in our heart.

The night is the balm for the wounded soul!

I love the smell of coffee when I wake up in the morning. It gives me the awesome feeling of hope!

In our most vulnerable hour, it is helpful to remember our creative power.

...and when we die we die alone I cry, I cry aloneLike a piece of stone I am thrown into the wavy ocean of lifeto atone...to atoneOnly to atone...

Do you pray for our world or just your world? If all your prayers were answered, would it change our world or just your world?

Her stories were made of badass women teasing monsters and running wild with dragons.

I was painter staring at a canvas waiting for the forgotten visions of my new abstract piece to come to me. But I am the abstract piece and my mind cannot comprehend the work my heart has created.

Stranger inside me, when you are born, I will give youa closed book and ask you never to read it, never rest, never forgive a man who wants to save you.

a body betrayeda heart destroyeda mind in confusionand yet a womanis capable of taking painand transforming it into triumph

i act harder than i am.i am softer than i look.

i am a woman and a poem. – visceral

The window of her sadness was so vast that it almost opened a path to her soul.

don't think you can ever forget her don't even try she's not going to budgeno choice but to grant her spacecrown her with skyfor she is one of the manyand she is each of us

Since she's discoveredmen would rather drownthan nibble, she does just fine.

Women invented misery, but we don't understand it.

Let us remember to always rediscover one anotherbecause we are forever changing.

This poem was meant to be unwritten. But I am writing it now and have thereby changed destiny.

Towards these weeks of rain I give effusive praise. Let me always be reminded that there is time for change.

Think not of the fragility of life, but of the power of books, when mere words have the ability to change our lives simply by being next to each other.

Think not of the fragility of life, but of the power of books, when mere words can change our lives simply by being next to each other.

Before you, nothing.Now you, and everything

There is something perfect to be found in the imperfect: the law keeps balance through the juxtaposition of beauty, which gains perfection through nurtured imperfection.

Thanks to Karen Connelly who read earlier versions of this manuscript and to Ronald Hatch my editor and publisher.

She burns like the sunBeautiful when she comes undoneNo restraintsPure passion flowing through her veinsMadness refusing to be tamed.

My soulmust reachinto the cloudsand touch the beauty of madness.

Her skin smelled like the twilight moon and her eyes looked primal, like a hungry animal. She was darkness – dangerous, beautiful darkness.

There is a beastwithin my heart.She plays immaculately with the beauty in my soul.

It's her black wings that make her beautiful.

How can you love art, beauty, poetry, and hate life? That's like saying you love the ocean but hate water.

Always carry what is beautiful in your heart.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, I have placed you in my hallWhere I wander every day.Echo beauty, and you’ll stay.

Do not conceale thy heavenly voice, Which makes the hearts of Gods rejoyce, Least Musicke hearing no such thing, The Nightingale forget to sing.

I wish to offer the world more than just beauty and plastic moments. I wish to offer the world depth, conversation, poetry and wisdom. I hope you do not deny me when I open these doors.

Soulful love, is poetry in motion. A contemplation of beauty from the deep arises and the mere struggle to express the rapture of the soul.

Beauty becomes uglyunder the influence ofthe demons inside the mind.

I keep breaking things, as if to see what's going on inside of me.

A beautiful poem is nothing but a mirror of philosophy through which we can see life’s pure beauty.

So beautiful but so bountiful.So delicate but so fresh.So magical but so simple.So much to say but yet so silent.So loving and so pleasant.Oh, flowers of charming love, You are life’s joy and present.

Let your life be a vivacious poetry of love, compassion, kindness, and beauty.

Mist lies over the river like the icy breath of winter angels. Darkness gathers round... and it is beautiful.Thank you for this life, this death, whatever it is you arethat makes us finally see.

The problem in this world is that we have poetry but insist on living in prose.

It takes courage to share your gifting, but when you do, you have authority and a life changing attitude