68 Quotes About Poetry Life

Maybe you could be mine / or maybe we’ll be entwined / aimless in this sexless foreplay. Jess C. Scott

The day came when she discovered sex, sensuality, and literature; she said, 'I submit! Let my life be henceforth ruled by poetry. Let me reign as the queen of my dreams until I become nothing less than the heroine of God. Roman Payne

I love being able to see an un-written future. Unknown

I will never take what is never given, but I will receive to what is given. Unknown

In an age when nations and individuals routinely exchange murder for murder, when the healing grace of authentic spirituality is usurped by the divisive politics of religious organizations, and when broken hearts bleed pain in darkness without the relief of compassion, the voice of an exceptional poet producing exceptional work is not something the world can afford to dismiss. Aberjhani

After a TimeAfter a time, all losses are the same. One more thing lost is one thing less to lose; And we go stripped at last the way we came. Though we shall probe, time and again, our shame, Who lack the wit to keep or to refuse, After a time, all losses are the same. No wit, no luck can beat a losing game; Good fortune is a reassuring ruse: And we go stripped at last the way we came. Rage as we will for what we think to claim, Nothing so much as this bare thought subdues: After a time, all losses are the same. The sense of treachery--the want, the blame-- Goes in the end, whether or not we choose, And we go stripped at last the way we came. So we, who would go raging, will go tame When what we have we can no longer use: After a time, all losses are the same; And we go stripped at last the way we came. . Catherine Davis

Yes! all is past–swift time has fled away, Yet its swell pauses on my sickening mind; How long will horror nerve this frame of clay? I'm dead, and lingers yet my soul behind. Oh! powerful Fate, revoke thy deadly spell, And yet that may not ever, ever be, Heaven will not smile upon the work of Hell;Ah! no, for Heaven cannot smile on me; Fate, envious Fate, has sealed my wayward destiny. Percy Bysshe Shelley

KUNDALINI DANCEDark and cold and wet were Her hands I felt Her chilly breath inside my throat Her claws deep inside trying to find traces of Fear within me I stayed still Accepting Opening ReceivingWithin a moment She was inside Two fingers below My belly button In there She found no traces of shiversno traces of resistance, no traces of weaknessjust clear pure Passage-WayThen She grew into Her most powerful SelfShe stood undisturbed, unmoved, unchanged Totally free and She screamed A A A A A U U U U U U M M M From the centre of the earth, Through the tunnels of the caves, To the surface of the volcanoes A A A A U U U U U U M M M M To open: Mountain tops untouched by clouds and rain Cherry fields in their full blossom A dog running after a train filled with the excitement A witch laughing at passers-by mirroring their paranoia Death looking us in the eyes searching for the chosen Few Capable to see the Key behind Her magic veil . Unknown

Lark’s SongThat child who from Diana’s thought is born A huntress swift, who doth the world adorn With strength and passion worthy of the GreenMay wax, and one day rise to be a queen. That child who in the eye of Phoebus grows Of visage fair, that none would dare oppose May in her hand hold light and glory too, And to the Light hold sternly staunch and true. That child who with the face of Venus smiles, Will bear a heart of mischief and of wiles, And may in time love’s faithful bonds fulfil While bending lesser hearts unto her will. That child who with Athena’s grace doth move May to all eyes her worldly wisdom prove And make right wise and fulsome use thereof To measure all who seek to win her love. That child who with grim Circe’s tongue foretells Enmeshing faithful hearts within her spells By dint of sly mendacity and guile, All innocence and virtue may defile. That child who by her cunning doth connive May by fair Tyche’s fortune wax and thrive And come in time to sit upon a throne; Or fail and fall, forsaken and alone. That child may choose to hark to glory’s call And shine in splendour, loved by one and all; Or cleave to darkness, hated and reviled: Chance crafts the fate of every fate-touched child. . D. Alexander Neill

The beautiful you is not the color of your skin Or the texture of your hair. The beautiful you is not how tall or short you are The beautiful you is not rather you’re skinny or overweight by society standards The beautiful you is not the degrees you have obtain Or the size of your bank accounts. The beautiful you, has nothing to do with where you’re from, or religious beliefs Nor the car you drive or the house you live in. The beautiful you is not the price tag of what you wear The beautiful you has nothing do with how eloquent you speak The beautiful you is your kindness and compassion toward others The beautiful you is your tolerance and patience The beautiful you is your ability to love and forgive The beautiful you don’t rush to judge what you don’t understand The beautiful you is always seeking to evolve into its higher self That is the beautiful you and that is what the world needs The beautiful you is what defines our HumanityThe Beautiful you, Be that Always!. Micheline Jean Louis

My words are my children. I am eternally grateful to the womb of my mind for conceiving them. Munia Khan

Do not judge a woman on her knees_you never know how tall she is when she stands! Mie Hansson

I think poetry without metaphor is like husband and wife living in separate bedrooms. Munia Khan

In this life at least, Our fate is rarely epic. Maybe just as well, Impervious heroes we are not… Scott Hastie

Perfection"Every oak will lose a leaf to the wind. Every star-thistle has a thorn. Every flower has a blemish. Every wave washes back upon itself. Every ocean embraces a storm. Every raindrop falls with precision. Every slithering snail leaves its silver trail. Every butterfly flies until its wings are torn. Every tree-frog is obligated to sing. Every sound has an echo in the canyon. Every pine drops its needles to the forest floor. Creation's whispered breath at dusk comeswith a frost and leaves within dawn's faint mist, for all of existence remains perfect, adorned, with a dead sparrow on the ground.( Poem titled : 'Perfection' by R.H.Peat) . R.H. Peat

You exalt me Bati, This is the message to the society, Brightest day demands struggling, suffering and sacrifice, heroic labor would suffice. Ankita Singhal

The searing light of morning Asks unwelcome questions, Fragile hopes soon blistered by daylight. Scott Hastie

And in the ocean I will fly to the bottomless pit of darkness Ellena Fedora

Imperfection is my ticket, perfection is my pursuit Paul Travis

What if you get most of what the eye sees?what if love came in seeds?what if we plant them and they grow trees? what if they form hearts instead of leafs?what if hate was to freeze?what if there was no honeybees?what if your heart stops when you sneeze?what if the evil uses the word please?what if we get down on our knees?what if we pray to the creator of the earth, heavens , and seas?what if the heartless bleeds?what if the poor needs?what if the wealthy and greedy feeds?what if the illiterate reads what if hearts had keys?what if we aim for our dreams?what if we do all good deeds?what if the only brew was teas?what if we all wore white tees?what if we could accomplish some of these? WHAT IF ? . Youns Hussein

Keep Moving...Move forward Let go Give in Decideand just DoProgress every day And make one step forward no matter what's in your way Keep moving, till one day you wake up and you're there. Emma Daley

We had the experience but missed the meaning, an approach to the meaning restores the experience T. S. Elliot

Nothing is lifelesswhen the moon writes its screedon the silvern sand silence- From the poem:" The Universe In Blossom Munia Khan

On Paper*some call it poetrybut it is just painon paper_____________________rassool jibraeel snyman (c) 2015"The Poetic Assassin Rassool Jibraeel Snyman

Yes, it is true that beauty is only skin deep, and internal loveliness resonates to the outside; but deep down inside every woman secretly longs to possess the allure of a royal queen. Terry A. ONeal

The work of great poetry is to aid us to become free artists ourselves... The art of reading poetry is an authentic training in the augmentation of consciousness, perhaps the most authentic of healthy modes. Harold Bloom

Don’t you dare say these times are hollow Just because there are storms raging by. Just lay low on your pillow, Close your eyes and say goodbye To the world that you lived in today. Let your dreams carry you away; You lived a nightmare all through the day, It is time to dream, so don’t delay. You searched for a reason to live, Yes darling, you searched everywhere. You had to push, you had to strive, It is time now to get some air. You searched in all that is outside, It is time now to look inside, Cause that is where you’ll find A reason worth keeping in your mind. These dreams are not an escape, darling, You need time to see past the lies that blind you. It is time for you to start running To those things that are true. So, don’t you dare say these nights are hollow, Just because there are storms raging by. Just lay low on your pillow And lose yourself in this lullaby. . Melita Tessy

Do tears not yet spilledwait in small lakes? Or are they invisible riversthat run toward sadness? Pablo Neruda

God’s justice in the one, and his goodness in the other, is exercised for evermore, as the everlasting subjects of his reward and punishment. Sir Walter Raleigh.

As a way of getting in touch with my originsevery night I set the alarm clockfor the time I was born so that waking upbecomes a historical reenactment... David Berman

Don't be afraid of Pain. Pain only comes down to a certain point... beyond that, it can't reach you and the love you have inside. Eeva Lancaster

Poetry, playing with your words until you breathe life into them. Morgan Dragonwillow

I was born with my eyes turned inward. David Joseph Cribbin

Poems are small moments of enlightenment Natalie Goldberg

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 Stanley Victor Paskavich

A hallowed frequency within That, even in your darkest hour, You can always turn to. Scott Hastie

Through windows, in wishing wells, whispering in the wind...that's where I find you. Jessica Kristie

In that wounded place, buried betweenmy ribs and letting go, I miss you. Jessica Kristie

I die a little, In the echo of your silence. Jessica Kristie

I was just an option. Blown easily to piecesand offered to the skyby the sweet laced painupon your lips. Jessica Kristie

I can't love anymore. Except for you... I love you so much it hurts to breathe. Jessica Kristie

Bridge burned from end to end, and I don't miss you anymore. You delivered silence I've birthed freedom. Jessica Kristie

You are the poemthat sticks in my throatteaching me to whisperwith the voice of my heart. Jessica Kristie

I've never seen beauty so devastatingas in the linesthat trace our hopeand fall from the stars. Jessica Kristie

Steep fall to the groundshatteringlike clay pigeons missed by bad shotsand unsteady hands. Jessica Kristie

Broken.As I search for hope, In the same eyes I lost it. Jessica Kristie

I build boxesand place them at your feet, to measure the distance between dreams and reality. Jessica Kristie

I bleed to un-break you, un-mending me. I fall to save you...now who will save me. Jessica Kristie

I balance you on the end of my pen. Teetering between loveand letting go. Jessica Kristie

Careful.The fall is quick, steep, and permanent. Jessica Kristie

I need to work on me. The mewithout you. Jessica Kristie

Birthing hope from the madnessthat perches on the fenceof our once perfectdreams. Jessica Kristie

We will read books together inside the blanket and stay warm. And keep writing poetry in our respective journals. Time will fly but we will still remain inside the blanket forever. Avijeet Das

What do you do when the alienating silence deafens your 'bootless cries'? Solange Nicole

It is something to have gazed on the constellated white, felt it running from the eyes and the pores: the salt of love. It is something to have whispered wild thank-yous in the only ways we know how. Bryana Johnson

We had scar-tissueromance and ours wasa relationship of sayinggoodbye–every timewe fought, every timewe fucked, and every timewe called it quits, beforepicking up our knivesagain Phil Volatile