What Is A Poem Quotes

Parting is all we know of Heaven, and all we need of Hell.

there's no clarity.there was never meant to be clarity.

There is a blue bird in my heart that wants to get out.

The time has come, " the walrus said, "to talk of many things: Of shoes and ships - and sealing wax - of cabbages and kings

But how conceive a God supremely good/ Who heaps his favours on the sons he loves, / Yet scatters evil with as large a hand?[Written after an earthquake in Lisbon killed over 15, 000 people]

Those who glitter with the glory of the hummingbird meaning death

Inside my head / or in a distant / Galaxy / Soft I hear it / Calling me." from the song "In the Blackness" in the poetry collection "Terra Affirmative".

In all the flames of fire fume’s left the traceInto the bluest sea the sky is drownedThe miracles of life can you embraceFrom the poem 'Can You Embrace?

i have taken life as its came to me first time i wanted to go to life .

Be nothing which thou art not

Understand the poem not the poet.

The other day I chanced to meet An angry man upon the street — A man of wrath, a man of war, A man who truculently bore Over his shoulder, like a lance, A banner labeled “Tolerance.

All that is gold does not glitterNot all those who wander are lostThe old that is strong does not witherDeep roots are not reached by the frost

Pure is honourable.Honourable is right.Right is lovely.Lovely is admirable.Admirable is excellent.Excellent is prasie worthy.Praise worthy is peace.

Love is a poem that keeps on writing itself, sweeping us along.

But the rare herb, Forgetfulness, / It hides away from me.

so the poem hurt you.it was supposed to.

They say Night is all black in the faceAll that glitters only adds to the graceNo attempt to success ever succeedsWithout one slogging through the blackened days"- Poem "The Beauty of Night

STATISTICSPack of Lucky Strikes.A lottery ticket

Persephone had it right.If you must go, might as welltake all of spring with you—

Sometimes my helpless blood runs numb and, if only for a second, I forget how frail bones can be.

Dissociated, I follow this body in its reckless haste.

Leave the hush to those who love like apes because together, you and I make vulgar sounds like a fervent sojourn in paradise.

Doubt quit stopping by when I started staying out late, dancing in a flood of self assurance discovered when holding your hand.

I am foolish in the way distance makes me feel partial.

Even lungs that are gasping are lungs that are trying.

3 A.M. isn't a time for sleep when the silhouette of you is breathing next to me.

Nostalgia dies in the pit of my throat from lack of exercise and I buried the word six feet under the pronunciation of hopeful tomorrows.

If I was asked to write a poem about her. Every word I use would end up, being her name. And it would still sound so beautiful and breathtaking to me in the end.

Sitting makes us think of standingOur current stance keeps on demanding We wish to fly without the wings Puppets move before pulling the strings

To write you into poems, and make you unerasable.

#Ola MusingsHer brow's penciled bowEyes tinged with kohl wowA mere passing shadow of hersCauses dust dry bloom wow!By nCr

...you hold a poemthat functions half as personalnote and half as telescopeto the heightsawaiting us all.

I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee—

A poem is about something the way a cat is about the house.

When all that's left mediocrity and each day just bleeds into the next.

Everything is blood and vines. The mark of another day of revolving the body exact And the sky is ours our hope our blue our silence our throat of burning wildflowers.

Blank pages are cruelPure torture in white or beigeBut how else to start

My life was a blank paper, until you came to rhyme with words & make it a poetry book. ❤ ❤

If I knew what safety looked like, I would have spent less time falling into arms that were not

Never on painter's canvas livesThe charm of his fancy's dream.

You do not see the painting in the attic The maggots on skin that tear. The beauty is a trick. Narcissus - promise naught but air...'' ~ Dorian Gray

Linear’s defeated form The intangible reality rise.'' ~ Wanderer

They tended to look at his lips, for his transient gaze was dizzying, though the mouth, you see, the mouth was also a danger, for the teeth would do the unraveling.

Life writes the poetry, but it will always call for witnesses and scribes alike to tattoo its echoes upon the ghosts of trees.

Dancing to the sounds of trees and stones and slow minutes ticking in our hearts and bones.

Eagle's flight of loneliness soars so high Around its sigh, no more alone the sky Other birds remain away, clouds pass byBetween shrouds of life and haze sun rays die

… and I’ll be happy here and happy there, fullof tea and tears

Oh, you cherry petals, On this calm and balmy day, Why are you so restless, So keen to fly away? / ひさかたの 光のどけき 春の日に しづ心なく 花の散るらむ

Impassionate gods have never seen the red that is the Tatsuta River. /ちはやぶる 神代も聞かず 竜田川 からくれなゐに 水くくるとは