Poetic Quotes

It's better to have nothing, ' the children were saying.

a single poemthe thing that can keep melight on my feet, when my soul isheavy with sorrow.

Words do not always need a destination.We can leave them behind us at the borders of feelings.Running around headless in the vague zone.And that is the privilege of artists: to live in confusion.

if nothing endswhere do we begin?

that willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith

Watch, how the sunslowly risesfrom behind my earnew lines, new countriesspring up in my palmsmy rough hairbecome swaying silkand all the leavesin my bodybecome lusher than fruits.

I want topeel away all the labelsI had once given to othersand place themupon the fabricof my own identity.They have reflected back to me, everything that I refuseto See in myself.

And stay, my dearstay...forever, as my quiet song, in my lilac dawn.

I make sacrifices in reward of trinkets for my gilded cage.

The dust of thirty years hung lifeless in shafts of morning light, the gilding of perfectly prim pages shone incanescent, the shriek of rolling ladders mourned in perennial soliloquy.

I finally wentwhere everyone goesand I realizedI wasnevermissingout.

Since the age of fifteen poetry has been my ruling passion and I have never intentionally undertaken any task or performed any relationship that seemed inconsistent with poetic principles

Since the age of fifteen poetry has been my ruling passion and I have never intentionally undertaken any task or formed any relationship that seemed inconsistent with poetic principles

Your personality should be described in poem not in paragraph.

What would your shoes say about the things you do everyday?

One's freedom is one's love and one's love is one's undoing, it's all in the dictionary...

Of everythingI have ever endured, YOUareMy Favourite Tragedy.

in the endit is wordspoetry. sunsetssomeone’s deep blue silk voice.mountain scents.someone’s smile.eyes. that we haveno defenses against.

The two of us snuggled like quotation marks in his room full of words.

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

Love is the intoxication of God.

Like blood out of a wound, a keening wail rose from the bottom of my heart and ripped through the graveyard. I lowered my face to Hadassah's shoulder and went quietly and thoroughly to pieces.

I am a daydreamer.. I daydream a lot, and thus is when my wicked imagination emerges to bleed upon my paper...

Let your life be joyful, mystical, everlasting blossoms of poetic ecstasy.

You are the song of my mind, melody of my soul, dance of my spirit, and the indescribable ecstasy of my life.

Poetry is inspired by the elements of random thoughts, an overflow of gazing at the unseen.

Markings in dry clay disappearOnly when the clay is soft again.Scars upon the self disappearOnly when one becomes soft within.

a young man was hung by a rope made of Stalingrad snow

When I couldn't speak I was not drawn into silence, silence captured me.

I can taste the good-bye on his lips.

One has to abandon altogether the search for security, and reach out to the risk of living with both arms. One has to court doubt and darkness as the cost of knowing.

Writing should beguile us, not just take us from A to B to Zzzzz

Do not wander in the deeps, Where the Shriker's shadow creeps.When he rises from beneath, Beware the Sharpness of his teeth.

A rain like melting pillows…a rain so beautifulI could neverhave let go ofif not certainthat someday...it would find its wayinto my poem.

Parched by the deprivation of your love for so long made me forget what a cup brimming with love, on my lips, felt like. Everything that now wets it, only wrinkles it with a bland taste.

Because we were not in our country, we could not use our own languages, and so when we spoke our voices came out bruised.

And after that, I watched our house collapse in on itself and I spent some time lying in the rubble. Then I vanished completely. I wasn't here at all. Then you phoned.

You are the ocean to my eyes.

Things don't always end up the way we planned but it doesn't mean the plan wasn't magical while it lasted.

Her voice was a hushed whisper against my ear. An audible smile.

In the fall, she knew it was Death who sweetened the apples.

You wanted hearts and flowers. You have my heart - & here are the flowers.

Shake those stars from your hair, pretty Moonchild. It's time to dance with the noonday sun!

Only fools lay claims where lovers thread for when such love is renewed, lovers dance upon their heads.

when whisperedwhat an exquisitesong, it makes-your name.

Drink from the ethereal philosophy of Heaven and you may see life as no more no less than a dream made of pure poetry from divine source. AA

Some people wait to get flowers while others grow gardens.

You should be more carefulwhen you move, my dearwhat with you...spilling moonlightinto my poem, with a mereflick of your hand.

I have woken up…quite sloshedfrom night-mingled rainsa little drugged, by mountain fogsI have been kidnappedfor years....by a mere kiss.

Maybe life is all about twirling under one of those midnight skies, cutting a swathe through the breeze and gently closing your eyes.