Poetry Quotes

whatever you dobe gentle with yourself.you don’t just livein this worldor your homeor your skin.you also livein someone’s eyes.

Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough, A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse - and ThouBeside me singing in the Wilderness -And Wilderness is Paradise enow.

Look deeper through the telescopeand do not be afraid when the starscollide towards the darkness, because sometimes the most beautifulthings begin in chaos.

You are that one breath. that puts all the remaining breaths. back into my body.

Clear, unscalable, aheadRise the Mountains of Instead, From whose cold, cascading streamsNone may drink except in dreams.

Silver hidden in the gold, Young man hidden in the old, Laughing lord with weeping eyes, Bring king and ring before sunrise! -Hilarion, The Great and Terrible Quest

How weightlesswords are when nothing will do.

In visions of the night, like dropping rain, Descend the many memories of pain

I have been here before, But when or how I cannot tell: I know the grass beyond the door, The sweet keen smell, The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.

Welcome, thou kind deceiver!Thou best of thieves: who, with an easy key, Dost open life, and, unperceived by us, Even steal us from ourselves.

Fascists always attack minorities, Which is an irony, 'Cos fascists are a minority.

Otter! Otter! Otter!Don’t lead cows to slaughter!I love you, and I knowI should’ve told you soon-aBut you didn’t buy the dolphin-safe tuna!

Hay menos tiempo que lugar, no obstante, hay lugares que duran un minuto y para cierto tiempo no ha lugar.

A book, a book fullof human touches, of shirts, a bookwithout loneliness, with menand tools, a bookis victory.

hate blows a bubble of despair intohugeness world system universe and bang-fear buries a tomorrow under woeand up comes yesterday most green and young

I sit in my treeI sing like the birdsMy beak is my penMy songs are my poems.

I don't love her anymoreSoWhy should I walkNightsBy the tavernWhere I drankEvery nightThinking of her?

Soy el desesperado, la palabra sin ecos, el que lo perdiò todo, y el que todo lo tuvo.

I offer you what I have myPoverty

There's in my mind a...turbulent moon-ridden girlor old woman, or both, dressed in opals and rags, feathersand torn taffeta, who knows strange songsbut she is not kind.

I have no words — alas! — to tellThe loveliness of loving well!

Oh I know it's cliché but yeah they say that great men make it in-To places few others who even do take the risk've ever been

Άλλα ζητεί η ψυχή σου, γι’ άλλα κλαίει·

a woman will tell youevery home she has ever inhabitedhas been broken intostarting with her body

¡Los suspiros son aire y van al aire!¡Las lágrimas son agua y van al mar!Dime, mujer, cuando el amor se olvida¿sabes tú adónde va?

Let's get loosewith compassion.Let's drown in the deliciousambiance oflove.

Don't sign your namebetween worlds, surmountthe manifold of meanings, trust the tearstain, learn to live.

Open the fridge and putMy heart on a plate.I'm just as you leftme, and I taste even betterleftover.

Unless you call attentionto your presencewho will know you're there?Even a countryhas to weave and wave a flagas proof of its existence.

Art too is just a way of living.

I'm going to do something bigger and better, bigger and betterand bolder, but first, I'm going to do somethingsmaller and worse.

My Personalityunfolding before youlike a Swiss Army knife.

I've written some poetry I don't understand myself

Ξέρω: κηρύγματα καὶ ρητορεῖες πάλι, θὰ πεῖς.Ἔ ναὶ λοιπόν! Κηρύγματα καὶ ρητορεῖες.Σὰν πρόκες πρέπει νὰ καρφώνονται οἱ λέξειςΝὰ μὴν τὶς παίρνει ὁ ἄνεμος.

For our generation walks as in Hades, without the divine.

Il pleure dans mon coeur Comme il pleut sur la ville.

You are only as free as you think you are and freedom will always be as real as you believe it to be.

Whatever you get out of poetry - take it. take it. take it. Words are better off felt than understood.

Ah! well a-day! what evil looks Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung.

from what we cannot hold the stars are made

Know that we have met before and that we will meet again. I will find my way to you in the next life, and every life after that.

I spit into the face of Time That has transfigured me.

Dancing is like poetry written by our bodies: our outstretched arms our words of longing.

My tongue remembers your wounded flavor.The vein in my neckadores you. A swordstands up between my hips, my hidden fleece sends forth its scent of human oil.

In the great green room, there was a telephoneAnd a red balloonAnd a picture of a cat jumping over the moon...

But now, you are twain, you are cloven apartFlesh of his flesh, but heart of my heart.

the flames are silent, Peace is violent, Tears are frozen’cause massacre was chosen.~~ 26/11– Mumbai terror attack memories

We walked through night until there was a poem.

Honest criticism and sensible appreciation are directed not upon the poet but upon the poetry.

Two girls discover the secret of lifein a sudden line of poetry.