What Is Poetry Quotes

OMG! I DESIGNED THIS NEW SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORM! IT'S CALLED "POETRY" - YOU HAVE TO READ AMY KING'S POEMS TO GET AN INVITE ~

SOME PEOPLE SIMPLY DO NOT EXIST ANYMORE. GET USED TO IT. QUESTION MARK.

WORDS SHLD BE FREE. RELEASE THEM FROM THEIR SENTENCES.

HER BARBED-WIRE SMILELIFTED YOU TO HEAVENBUT I HAVE TO ASKDID GOD LOOK LIKE HER VOICE

IT'S NOT THE HONEY WHISKEY IN A FRIDAY NIGHT - IT'S THE MANIC SHOW OF POETRY TWEETS THAT TURNS ME ON.

LIFE IS NEVER OVER.

ERRORS ARE WHAT MAKE US HUMAN. PLOT TWIST: I'M A HORSE.

YOU SAY "POET" LIKE THAT MEANS SOMETHING.

I WISH YOU ALL THE REALITY YOU COULD EVER WANT. HANDLE. WANT.

2 to 12 hearts 1 beat2 lips will meet2 birds 1 stone2 never b alone2 wills 1 goal2 haves 1 whole2 be in love2 be as One***©Clarissa O. ClemensThe Poetic Diary of Love and Change - Volume 1

I heard your whispered fantasies so clear Softly told in my earI opened my eyes you weren't thereSo real my dream, I was so awareBut we'll meet again so certainlyIn our whispered fantasy

I was born with my eyes turned inward.

Emerging from chaos, came Light, filling need.

Love crosses the sky on a peculiar disturbing night.

I negate this distance with / what it would be / to be shining you.

... this longing inside me that never goes away, must be a poem...must be you ...

When humankind cannot produce a philosopher to speak its mind, it longs for a poet to sing its heart

There's two ways to become a famous Poet, find that one person that knows somebody, that knows somebody, that knows somebody.Or die trying

What is this thing? trading passions for a tiny bit of acceptance.

why do people pour water on concrete expecting something to grow from it" AP

My writing, it’s my way of making sense of everything. My way to feel whole. May I never be complete and may I never feel content – please, let me always have the need, always have the urge to write.

poetry is not—except in a very limited sense—a form of self-expression. Who on earth supposes that the pearl expresses the oyster?

You may be ableto fly to heaven with my love.But for real, my love is onlya cheap wine.Seriously, Only God’s love is the precious wine.And She evengives it to everyone.For free!

What a cruel irony it is, that we get to choose our thoughts but not our feelings.

You are my drug of choiceI know you’re no good for meAnd though I swear my lipsWill never touch you againHere we are, here we are.

Sometimes it feels like even ifEvery inch of my skin was touching yoursI still wouldn’t be close enough to you.

Love gives the best of highsBut also the worst of hangovers.

The movementOf the body isWhere poetryBegins

Must I wonder if your thoughts are of me? If you are missing me, wanting me, creating heart beats and poet-less words for me? [ i do…]

Football is the poetry of a motion.

I’ll give you one chance to run, but may your shoulder always whisper in your ear…“It’s best to watch out for men, like me.

Kill the part of you that believes it can't survive without someone else.

...For I do now know that it is cowardly. We do not have the right to think only of poetry on this earth. It is magical, but utterly selfish.

No non-poetic account of reality can be complete.

Kiss the lips upon me once, and I shall never tell.

I may not always be with you But when we're far apartRemember you will be with meRight inside my heart

I don't care what you say to me. I care what you share with me.

I am no longer in love with her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Love one another, but make not a bond of love:Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

I would love to saythat youmake meweak in the kneesbutto be quite upfrontand completelytruthfulyoumake my bodyforgetit has kneesat all.

That night when you kissed me, I left a poem in your mouth, and you can hear some of the lines every time you breathe out.

Sometimes I sit alone under the stars and think of the galaxies inside my heart and truly wonder if anyone will ever want to make sense of all that I am

A truth should exist, it should not be usedlike this. If I love youis that a fact or a weapon?

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

When you leave, weary of me, without a word I shall gently let you go.

I haven’t been very impressed lately.By people, or places, or the way someone said he loved me and then slowly changed his mind.

People Die...Beauty Fades...Love Changes...And You Will Always Be Alone

After all, my erstwhile dear, My no longer cherished, Need we say it was not love, Just because it perished?

Love is a game of tic-tac-toe, constantly waitingfor the next x or o.

And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.