Poems Quotes

And this that you call solitude is in fact a big crowd.

Through everything I have passed but nowhere I have been.

We will go far away, to nowhere, to conquer, to fertilize until we become tired. Then we will stop and there will be our home.

Blankly expressing oneself can be stronger than words.

I travel, always arriving in the same place.

One hand I extend into myself, the other toward others.

Long ago an uncalled rain fell and a called-upon God stayed equally distant.

From one bell all the bells toll.

In greatness, life and death merge.

Long ago we conquered our passions looking at ourselves in the mirror of eternity.

What you gain here, you lose on the other side.

He will understand when it is too late that it is easier to love.

The kind of poetry to avoid in the pretty-pretty kind that pleased our grandmothers, the kind that Longfellow and Tennyson, good poets at their best, wrote at their worst.

In a myriad of ways you tell one truth.

The poems are all wrong. It's a bang, a really big bang. Not a whimper. And sometimes gold can stay.

You are the hybrids of golden worlds and ages splendidly conceived.

I'm not religious. I love what Clive James said the other day. James is a brilliant writer, but he keeps on writing poems on stuff. And he said, "God doesn't have a leg to stand on."

She could become a spinster, like Emily Dickinson, writing poems full of dashes and brilliance, and never gaining weight.

Actually, my first literary heroes were the Romantic poets, so I began to get serious by writing poems. I have notebooks full of them that I cherish but am afraid to look at.

For children: I'm writing a picture book about the Big Dipper and a novel about a cricket, a firefly and a vole. For grownups: I'm writing poems.

I began just writing poems and then fell in love with the form.

I was writing poems when I was young, you know, because my father was a poet, so it was absolutely normal to follow my father.

One of the remarkable things about love is that, despite very irritating people writing poems and songs about how pleasant it is, it really is quite pleasant.

Someone Should Write Me a Love Poem but I'm Stuck Doing It Myself

My days are filled with work I love - reading poems, writing poems, talking with people about poems, teaching, directing a writing program, hosting readings, etc.

I think if you put something in a file that says "war poems" or "love poems" that you already restrict the way in which the poem might move.

I've been writing poems and stories since I was about 13.

There is a specific kind of day when I feel like writing poems. My senses become really sharp. This day is when I feel as if I am drowning into the abandonment of death.

I didn't sit down then and start writing poems, but it was in the back of my mind.

A lot of people are writing poems and don't realize it. They have this limited idea of how the poem should sound or what subjects it should address.

The number of people writing poems is vast, and their reasons for doing so are many, that much can be surmised from the stacks of submissions.

my poems are only bits of scratchingon the floor of acage.

When once we are buried you think we are gone. But behold me immortal!

He moves in darkness as it seems to meNot of woods only and the shade of trees.

Love what is simple and beautiful. These are the essentials.

all people start tocome apart finallyand there it is:just empty ashtrays in a roomor wisps of hair on a combin the dissolving moonlight.

beware women grownoldwho were neveranything butyoung

Remembrance and reflection how allied!What thin partitions Sense from Thought divide!

A single poemis worth a hundredcozy winter nightskind wordsand healed wounds.

One clear moment, one of trance One missed step, one perfect dance One missed shot, one and only chance Life is all...but one fleeting glance.

I sat in a boxWith walls on each side.Not too tall.Not too wide.To think.To ponder.To pray.To hide.I sat in a box and cried.

Scatter as a prayerescaping my lips...as orchidsblooming in clouds.

It...whatever 'it' is, has swallowed me and I lie here in the pit of its cold dark stomach being eaten alive by its bile and I...I don't even know if I want to be saved.

Traveling down a road of self-destructionWith no room for any reconstruction

Poetry is one of my guilty pleasures and I want to thank you poets for providing me with beautiful words that I can devour and selfishly indulge in any time I want. ♥-Nina Jean Slack

My heart's scripture tastes foreign in the mouths of cowards and on the tongues of those who have never breathed inthe moon and breathed out the world.

I love the way he says my name. With the elegance and utmost respect of a King, just before he bows to his Queen.

To enjoy a peaceful & Beautiful Life We should open our 'EYE' and Close our 'I

Theres no competition in DESTINY. Run your own RACE and wish others WELL!!!

Have and show motivation to do and learn. That's the key for a good career. Everything else is an extrapolation of that.