Best 1 875 of Poem quotes - MyQuotes

By Anonym 20 Sep

A. Saleh

Whenever you touch a poem that caresses your soul, breathe it gently for it might be the wind that perfects your life's goal.

By Anonym 19 Sep

Tamara Rendell

We are all of life who stepped from the sea trading weightless journeys of the currents We are all of life who build and tear down and build again to find gold and silver to find scars that weep and bleed to step from the sea to stay with the sea

By Anonym 16 Sep

Connell

I notice you have the assault proof vest - So it's my fault I guess. So apparently I didn't say 'no' as loud as my clothes could say 'yes.' You see I didn't know that my ‘no’ wasn't enough - I didn't understand that my body became less precious because certain dresses make me look hot. And I guess if I'm wearing the wrong top then my ‘yes’ is the same as ‘stop.’ And you shouldn't have to, just because I begged you to. I'm begging you - Tell me the magic outfit and I'll buy it. Apparently my ‘no’ wasn't heard, even when I screamed. So I need my clothes to be quiet.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Emma Ghent Curtis

Behold yon rough and flinty road Where youth, now youth no more, Gropes whining, seeking crumbs of loaves He cast away of yore.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Michele Gentles Mcdaniel

She lay on the leaves Staring at the sky while her Bones decay and rot. 2-29-2016

By Anonym 19 Sep

Giovannie De Sadeleer

What equals infinity?' The girl asked. The boy grabbed her hand. 'You and me.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Hubert Martin

He gave up. No hint of ember behind his eyes nor life in his breath. He snipped the last, overstretched strand of hope, and nicked the strand of life by mistake. He did it with his hands.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Hubert Martin

As I watched the sky morph shades of amber and amethyst, of fiery orange and smoldering pink, I always wondered if colors and images like these once inspired the greats before us to construct their beauty and masterpieces.

By Anonym 17 Sep

Charles Baudelaire

¡No renuncies jamás a tus sueños, los cuerdos nada saben del sueño admirable de un loco!

By Anonym 19 Sep

William Wordsworth

The thought of our past years in me doth breed Perpetual benediction: not indeed For that which is most worthy to be blest— Delight and liberty, the simple creed Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest, With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast.

By Anonym 20 Sep

Munia Khan

Wind and breeze are separated today Crimson twilight denies to fade away Grass blades turn brown to match the soil We pretend to smile at every turmoil

By Anonym 16 Sep

Sarah Kay

I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. It can crumble so easily but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Giovannie De Sadeleer

In your eyes I found something that shines brighter than a thousand rays of sunshine.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Hubert Martin

She was a mimicry of a facade fashioned from the half-truths of her life. She was a beautiful abomination, patched together from the most pristine and terrible parts she could find. She was a black crystal of many cuts and facets whose dark glow suffocated and entranced those it washed over. There was a pointlessness in her eyes and apathy in her stature, and further in, past the symphonies of nightmarish screams was a blinding light. All the capability she could ever ask for kept in a place she would never reach. She chose the ice rather than the fire, shivering and hard with heat sparse, for while a flicker can exist in freeze's cold, it's heat will not radiate, no matter how bold. She took my face in hands that would make ice seem warm and whispered a blizzard into my ear, a cascading song of fear after fear. The lies she spilled, mixed with regrets and appeal, were cloaked in the inferno of her rage, the anger, the only thing that really made her real. This was her one semblance of life, a bottomless and endless void of proportions vast with a calamity of fusion and fission streaking through, a mindless hue, an emotion with a face, a darling of her race. The cracks spew darkness from within her ever so pale skin. They congregated on her curves and flesh in black and churning rivers and streams. They flooded every dip with blackness. They filled every hollow with unstable curiosity, this is her release, this is when she is free. The faces of deceit always laugh, they never wallow for their lies are a pleasure tool, her insides are contorted in laughter the same way, just as slick, just as cruel. A crude combination of fascination, of animation, of the darkest demons of them all. She was poetry written in pen, scratched and scribbled again and again. Ink splattered across the page, and within those scrawled words, those small, sharp incisions, an image can be seen, and you're left to wonder what, in the end, this all could mean...

By Anonym 18 Sep

Giovannie De Sadeleer

The loving boy took a picture of her with his eyes and he framed it with his heart.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Louise Hawes

Bearings You are my dear compass, who knows no way but true, so when I'm lost and drifting, I find myself in you. Yet when I ask you, fearful, if I should set you free, imagine my surprise to hear you take your north from me.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Donika Kelly

I am not land or timber nor are you ocean or celestial body, but rather we are the small animals we have always been.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Delicious David

Sitting on couch, lying legs apart Dark dirty naked. Smiling at me, Wicked lazy lusty eyes. I moaned, When saw movement inside his silent, The thick forest of pubic hair.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Fernando Pessoa

All letters of love are Ridiculous. They wouldn’t be love letters if they were not Ridiculous.

By Anonym 19 Sep

Rose J. Bell

The poem is called: The first glance. You were standing there Your presence changing the atmosphere. I can’t help to stare Your beauty is so rare. Watching you Is like the sunset on the ocean shore. Hearing your voice Left me wanting more. Oh, baby you’re giving me no choice. I beg you to fulfill my loneliness With your gracefulness. I beg you to give me a glimpse Of your pure soul. Baby, make me whole, Make me free And go out with me.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Anjum Choudhary

Take me to your darkest corners and watch your demons surrender to mine..

By Anonym 15 Sep

Beth Morey

absence looks like a lake bed flooded with sky sounds like cotton howling tastes like tear-stained pillows smells like churning bile and burnt hair feels like screaming agony, my heart dying and dying

By Anonym 19 Sep

Euginia Herlihy

The rainbow across the sky after a storm confirms Your kindness and Your forgiving heart.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Hubert Martin

She was starmetal bones with kaleidoscope eyes. A cracked framework of unique beauty, a patchwork portrait filled with swirling brush strokes, an amalgamation of delicate light and detailed shatter. I could write a novel about the way she breathes.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Altruistic

Feelings and emotion ran through my veins like a hurricane. And that's when everything began to look like poetry. —You look like poetry

By Anonym 16 Sep

Will Advise

Everything is like a wall. Said a scholar to the troll. Bang your head to go on through. Then you'll see, there is no queue.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Aditi Babel

as I'm bundled up in blankets and I begin to feel cold: will you keep my heart warm?

By Anonym 16 Sep

Tanzy Sayadi

I think can sit here for hours, Arguing with the world as to why I can't give up, Tell everyone around me what a blessing you are, Laugh at all the times that you've brought sun into my life, I can tell everyone how passionate you are and how much you bring into this world, But right now I'm sitting here for hours, Trying to keep myself together because I'm trying to figure out how to tell the world that the man I love, Is the reason why I'm so broken.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Christine Upton

If their tears could be read, as the blind can read braille Would your eyes then be opened to another & how they feel? Without condemnation or any aversions from within Could you set aside judgement while seeking total absolution?

By Anonym 18 Sep

Kamand Kojouri

O, weary angels, don’t look at me with those eyes. If that is your state then what of our cries? What can I tell you of goodness that you don’t already know? What can I tell you of faith, of hope and love that you yourselves bestow? O, angels, don’t pluck another feather, this isn’t the sky, it’s just the weather. Please, angels, try. We are one all together. Look up and listen, I’ll say it once and then put down my pen: We are sorry for our ignorance and even though we are worldly, it might happen again. We are sorry for your weariness and even though you aren’t worldly, we are no more than human.

By Anonym 17 Sep

Anne Bronte

Lines Composed in a Wood on a Windy Day My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring And carried aloft on the winds of the breeze; For above and around me the wild wind is roaring, Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas. The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing, The bare trees are tossing their branches on high; The dead leaves beneath them are merrily dancing, The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky. I wish I could see how the ocean is lashing The foam of its billows to whirlwinds of spray; I wish I could see how its proud waves are dashing, And hear the wild roar of their thunder to-day!

By Anonym 20 Sep

Frederick Espiritu

Where there is love, there is no need. Where there is need, there is suffering.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Carol Ann Duffy

At childhood’s end, the houses petered out into playing fields, the factory, allotments kept, like mistresses, by kneeling married men, the silent railway line, the hermit’s caravan, till you came at last to the edge of the woods. It was there that I first clapped eyes on the wolf. He stood in a clearing, reading his verse out loud in his wolfy drawl, a paperback in his hairy paw, red wine staining his bearded jaw. What big ears he had! What big eyes he had! What teeth! In the interval, I made quite sure he spotted me, sweet sixteen, never been, babe, waif, and bought me a drink, my first. You might ask why. Here’s why. Poetry. The wolf, I knew, would lead me deep into the woods, away from home, to a dark tangled thorny place lit by the eyes of owls. I crawled in his wake, my stockings ripped to shreds, scraps of red from my blazer snagged on twig and branch, murder clues. I lost both shoes but got there, wolf’s lair, better beware. Lesson one that night, breath of the wolf in my ear, was the love poem. I clung till dawn to his thrashing fur, for what little girl doesn’t dearly love a wolf? Then I slid from between his heavy matted paws and went in search of a living bird – white dove – which flew, straight, from my hands to his hope mouth. One bite, dead. How nice, breakfast in bed, he said, licking his chops. As soon as he slept, I crept to the back of the lair, where a whole wall was crimson, gold, aglow with books. Words, words were truly alive on the tongue, in the head, warm, beating, frantic, winged; music and blood. But then I was young – and it took ten years in the woods to tell that a mushroom stoppers the mouth of a buried corpse, that birds are the uttered thought of trees, that a greying wolf howls the same old song at the moon, year in, year out, season after season, same rhyme, same reason. I took an axe to a willow to see how it wept. I took an axe to a salmon to see how it leapt. I took an axe to the wolf as he slept, one chop, scrotum to throat, and saw the glistening, virgin white of my grandmother’s bones. I filled his old belly with stones. I stitched him up. Out of the forest I come with my flowers, singing, all alone. Little Red-Cap

By Anonym 16 Sep

Alexis Clare

every other time i have been cautious but this time, i didn’t stop myself from running into a hurricane

By Anonym 19 Sep

Susie Clevenger

There are no stones honeycombed into an abusive tongue strong enough to clip my wings.

By Anonym 19 Sep

Atticus Poetry

To a poet every curve of her was a well place word.

By Anonym 19 Sep

Marianne Moore

TO A GIRAFFE If it is unpermissible, in fact fatal to be personal and undesirable to be literal—detrimental as well if the eye is not innocent-does it mean that one can live only on top leaves that are small reachable only by a beast that is tall?— of which the giraffe is the best example— the unconversational animal. When plagued by the psychological, a creature can be unbearable that could have been irresistible; or to be exact, exceptional since less conversational than some emotionally-tied-in-knots animal. After all consolations of the metaphysical can be profound. In Homer, existence is flawed; transcendence, conditional; “the journey from sin to redemption, perpetual.

By Anonym 15 Sep

William Thomson Kelvin

… Fourier's great mathematical poem ... {Referring to Joseph Fourier's mathematical theory of the conduction of heat, one of the precursors to thermodynamics.}

By Anonym 15 Sep

Arthur Symons

As a perfume doth remain In the folds where it hath lain, So the thought of you, remaining Deeply folded in my brain, Will not leave me; all things leave me - You remain. Other thoughts may come and go, Other moments I may know That shall waft me, in their going, As a breath blown to and fro, Fragrant memories; fragrant memories Come and go. Only thoughts of you remain In my heart where they have lain, Perfumed thoughts of you, remaining, A hid sweetness, in my brain. Others leave me; all things leave me - You remain.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Euginia Herlihy

THE MASTER MIND OF KILLING You killed, you hid, you killed! So many innocent people all over the world, The mastermind of killing! You killed, you ran, you hid! You never thought this day would come Because it took a long ten years To actually be caught relaxing In your 'massive palace' The mastermind of killing! What were you thinking? You thought you were the ruler of this world, Remember! You sowed the master seed of killing Now you reap what you have sown, The mastermind of killing!

By Anonym 16 Sep

Hubert Martin

He spoke in polished honesty free of liar's filth. He said the hardest words with an unshakable voice, a wide smile, with fear and doubt freezing over his core. The truth was the best route, but the truth could always be costly... another truth. A sad truth.

By Anonym 17 Sep

Mathew Henderson

No mark survives this place: you too will yield to unmemory.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Emmanuelle Soni-dessaigne

So love me Like a rainbow (It's your rain due to my sun) Love me Between two seasons (It's like two bodies that collide) Love me with your lips and not with your mouth (Your fire is the only one that touches me) Love me With your fingers and not your hand (And open me like the morning Wakes up the flower from its sorrow) Love me When the day is discreet Drink my shyness like dew And devastate my burned earth When the day comes to decline Love me In this ephemeral What is to be, what is not yet All I have of solitary Only speaks about your arms Love me In this hollow Love me In this space Where we can still grow For you are all that I embrace. ( I hear of voice in all the noise of the world.)

By Anonym 19 Sep

Jyoti Patel

They say, The result of waiting would be great The result of patience would be great But, no one tells you About the pain it brings along No one talks about the pain Of a person Who waits for the entire life Only to die alone In the end With the questions unanswered Many have died alone With the unanswered questions

By Anonym 16 Sep

Euginia Herlihy

I HAVE A REASON TO SMILE Life is so interesting, I have a reason to smile, Life is so good for me, I have a reason to smile, Life is wonderful for me, I have a reason to smile, God is doing wonders for me, First He blessed me with a grandson, Now it's a double blessing The twins are on the way. I have a reason to smile Because my God is on my side. Thank you Jesus!!!

By Anonym 15 Sep

Munia Khan

All shadows of clouds the sun cannot hide like the moon cannot stop oceanic tide; but a hidden star can still be smiling at night's black spell on darkness, beguiling

By Anonym 15 Sep

Saurabh Sharma

A Strange Prayer: Dear Lord, I, the self searching illusion, has seen and experienced the outer world: relationships, success and failure, true friends, strangers and backbiters. I lived the different emotions during different seasons; I witnessed ups & downs, enjoyed love & hate, was good & bad, faced beauty & ugliness. There were times when I was brave, there were times when I was a coward. There were times when I was proactive, there were times when I was indecisive. After, flying high in the skies, and yet being a loser... After, being nothing & no one, and yet feeling content.. I have understood the difference between lust and love, happiness and sadness, selfishness and selflessness. One often leads to another; another secretly carries the one! Yet I am lost between being and becoming. An inner voice admits that my heart is an unexplored realm, my mind is a prisoner to my wishful thinking, and the soul is unknown to me. Setting that unknown free... now, this is my heartiest wish. As Saurabh Sharma, the human being, I always pray to thee, " O lord, set me free. I don't want love, I don't want to be loved; I want myself to be love itself now. That beautiful, silent and divine existence...! I want to get merged into that. Please give me wisdom and courage; Merge me into your supreme kingdom by setting my soul free.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Antonia Rapheal

I am the voice of reason of past of present and the future all at once. I am the voice of the dead the unborn and those that long to live all at once. I am the voice unheard untold unwanted all at once. I am the voice spoken and silent all at once. I am the voice between the pause inside the sigh all at once.

By Anonym 19 Sep

Stanley Kunitz

The poem in the head is always perfect. Resistance starts when you try to convert it into language. Language itself is a kind of resistance to the pure flow of self.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Kamand Kojouri

Take me when I'm wild. Take me when I'm free. Take me for me and I will take you as you want to be.