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and discussion search Home My Books Groups Recommendations genres listopia giveaways popular goodreads voice ebooks fun trivia quizzes quotes community creative writing people events Explore quote Quotes About Poetry Quotes tagged as "poetry" (showing 751-780 of 3,000) Adrienne Rich No one has imagined us. We want to live like trees, sycamores blazing through the sulfuric air, dappled with scars, still exuberantly budding, our animal passion rooted in the city. ? Adrienne Rich, The Dream of a Common Language tags: lesbian, love, poetry 67 likes Like Octavio Paz ...because two bodies, naked and entwined, leap over time, they are invulnerable, nothing can touch them, they return to the source. There is no you, no I, no tomorrow, no yesterday, no names, the truth of two in a single body, a single soul, oh total being... ? Octavio Paz, Sunstone tags: love, poetry 58 likes Like Denise Levertov In the dark I rest, unready for the light which dawns day after day, eager to be shared. Black silk, shelter me. I need more of the night before I open eyes and heart to illumination. I must still grow in the dark like a root not ready, not ready at all. ? Denise Levertov

tags: night, poetry 49 likes Like Robert Burns Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it, But we hae meat and we can eat, And sae the Lord be thankit. ? Robert Burns tags: food, meat, poetry, robert-burns 40 likes Like Robert Louis Stevenson Under the wide and starry sky Dig the grave and let me lie: Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he long'd to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea, And the hunter home from the hill. ? Robert Louis Stevenson tags: death, poetry 38 likes Like Walt Whitman Sometimes with one I love, I fill myself with rage, for fear I effuse unreturn'd love; But now I think there is no unreturn'd love the pay is certain, one way or another ; (I loved a certain person ardently, and my love was not return'd; Yet out of that, I have written these songs.) ? Walt Whitman tags: poetry 36 likes Like Edgar Allan Poe I saw thee once - only once - years ago: I must not say how many - but not many. It was a July midnight; and from out A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring, Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven, There fell a silvery-silken veil of light, With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber, Upon the upturn'd faces of a thousand Roses that grew in an enchanted garden, Where no wind dared stir, unless on tiptoe Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses That gave out, in return for the love-light, Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses That smiled and died in the parterre, enchanted By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence. Clad all in white, upon a violet bank I saw thee half reclining; while the moon Fell upon the upturn'd faces of the roses, And on thine own, upturn'd - alas, in sorrow! Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight Was it not Fate, (whose name is also Sorrow,) That bade me pause before that garden-gate, To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses? No footsteps stirred: the hated world all slept, Save only thee and me. (Oh, Heaven! - oh, G**! How my heart beats in coupling those two words!)

Save only thee and me. I paused - I looked And in an instant all things disappeared. (Ah, bear in mind the garden was enchanted!) The pearly lustre of the moon went out: The mossy banks and the meandering paths, The happy flowers and the repining trees, Were seen no more: the very roses' odors Died in the arms of the adoring airs. All - all expired save thee - save less than thou: Save only divine light in thine eyes Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes. I saw but them - they were the world to me. I saw but them - saw only them for hours Saw only them until the moon went down. What wild heart-histories seemed to lie enwritten Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres! How dark a wo! yet how sublime a hope! How silently serene a sea of pride! How daring an ambition! yet how deep How fathomless a capacity for love! But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight, Into a western couch of thunder-cloud; And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained. They would not go - they never yet have gone. Lighting my lonely pathway home that night, They have not left me (as my hopes have) since. They follow me - they lead me through the years. They are my ministers - yet I their slave. Their office is to illumine and enkindle My duty, to be saved by their bright fire, And purified in their electric fire, And sanctified in their elysian fire. They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope,) And are far up in Heaven - the stars I kneel to In the sad, silent watches of my night; While even in the meridian glare of day I see them still - two sweetly scintillant Venuses, unextinguished by the sun! ? Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven and Other Poems tags: edgar-allan-poe, helen, poetry, whitman 34 likes Like Milan Kundera The characters in my novels are my own unrealised possibilities. That is why I am equally fond of them all and equally horrified by them. Each one has crossed a border that I myself have circumvented. ? Milan Kundera tags: characters, poetic, poetry, prose, writers 29 likes Like Lucille Clifton won't you celebrate with me what i have shaped into a kind of life? i had no model. born in babylon both nonwhite and woman what did i see to be except myself? i made it up here on this bridge between starshine and clay, my one hand holding tight my other hand; come celebrate with me that everyday

something has tried to kill me and has failed. ? Lucille Clifton tags: african-american-poets, inspiration, life, national-poetry-month, poem-inyour-pocket-day, poetry, positive-motivation 29 likes Like T.S. Eliot My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me. 'Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak. 'What are you thinking of? What thinking? What? 'I never know what you are thinking. Think. ? T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land tags: poetry 29 likes Like Dylan Thomas I sang in my chains like the sea ? Dylan Thomas tags: poetry 28 likes Like Christina Rossetti In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, Snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago. ? Christina Rossetti, The Poetical Works of Christina Georgina Rossetti tags: hymn, poetry 27 likes Like Jane Austen she thought it was the misfortune of poetry, to be seldom safely enjoyed by those who enjoyed it completely; and that the strong feelings which alone could estim ate it truly, were the very feelings which ought to taste it but sparingly. ? Jane Austen, Persuasion tags: poetry 26 likes Like Shel Silverstein Birds are flyin' south for winter. Here's the Weird-Bird headin' north, Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin', Cold head bobbin' back 'n' forth. He says, "It's not that I like ice Or freezin' winds and snowy ground. It's just sometimes it's kind of nice To be the only bird in town. ? Shel Silverstein tags: poetry 24 likes Like Adrienne Rich Love, our subject: we've trained it like ivy to our walls. ? Adrienne Rich tags: poetry 24 likes Like Margaret Atwood Where do the words go when we have said them? ? Margaret Atwood tags: poetry, words 21 likes Like Adrienne Rich the phantom of the man-who-would-understand, the lost brother, the twin --for him did we leave our mothers,

deny our sisters, over and over? did we invent him, conjure him over the charring log, nights, late, in the snowbound cabin did we dream or scry his face in the liquid embers, the man-who-would-dare-to-know-us? It was never the rapist: it was the brother, lost, the comrade/twin whose palm would bear a lifeline like our own: decisive, arrowy, forked-lightning of insatiate desire It was never the crude pestle, the blind ramrod we were after: merely a fellow-creature with natural resources equal to our own. ? Adrienne Rich, The Dream of a Common Language tags: feminism, love, mankind, poetry 21 likes Like Emily Dickinson The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,-The sweeping up the heart, And putting love away We shall not want to use again Until eternity ? Emily Dickinson tags: death, poetry 19 likes Like Gertrude Stein A FEATHER. A feather is trimmed, it is trimmed by the light and the bug and the post, it is trimmed by little leaning and by all sorts of mounted reserves and loud volumes . It is surely cohesive. ? Gertrude Stein, Tender Buttons tags: cohesiveness, feathers, poetry 19 likes Like Dee Dee M. Scott Love me in actions, not in words. ? Dee Dee M. Scott, Joy Cometh In The Morning tags: love, poetry 19 likes Like Octavio Paz Mineral cactai, quicksilver lizards in the adobe walls, the bird that punctures space, thirst, tedium, clouds of dust, impalpable epiphanies of wind. The pines taught me to talk to myself. In that garden I learnedto send myself off. Later there were no gardens. ? Octavio Paz, A Draft of Shadows and Other Poems

tags: mexico, octavio-paz, poetry 18 likes Like Frank O'Hara I have been to lots of parties and acted perfectly disgraceful but I never actually collapsed oh Lana Turner we love you get up ? Frank O'Hara tags: excellence, fame, fashion, poetry 18 likes Like Daphne Gottlieb All the black leather she needs is the E-Z boy recliner where her love is parked with one of his hands wrapped around a remote, the other, a bottle of beer. She's right. It's kinky. The way he doesn't look away from the TV, as her head bobs in his lap like a fisherman's float on a nature program, hectic with the pace his breath sets. His crotch swells under her mouth's prowess. He's such a sweetheart he waits until the commercials to come. ? Daphne Gottlieb, Why Things Burn tags: poetry, relationships 16 likes Like Emily Dickinson Mine Enemy is growing old -I have at last Revenge -The Palate of the Hate departs -If any would avenge Let him be quick -- the Viand flits -It is a faded Meat -Anger as soon as fed is dead -'Tis starving makes it fat ? Emily Dickinson, I'm Nobody! Who Are You? tags: friendship, poetry, relationships, rivalry 16 likes Like Mahmoud Darwish Far away, our dreams have nothing to do with what we do. The wind carries the nig

ht, and passes on, aimless. ? Mahmoud Darwish, Absent Presence tags: poetry 16 likes Like Mary Howitt Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly ? Mary Howitt, Spider and the Fly tags: humor, lessons, poetry 16 likes Like Pablo Neruda Our love was born outside the walls, in the wind, in the night, in the earth, and that's why the clay and the flower, the mud and the roots know your name. ? Pablo Neruda tags: earth, love, nature, pablo-neruda, poetry 15 likes Like Emily Dickinson This is the Hour of LeadRemembered, if outlived, As freezing persons, recollect the SnowFirst-Chill-then Stuporthen the letting go--? Emily Dickinson, The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson tags: poetry 14 likes Like Madeleine L'Engle How long your closet held a whiff of you, Long after hangers hung austere and bare. I would walk in and suddenly the true Sharp sweet sweat scent controlled the air And life was in that small still living breath. Where are you? since so much of you is here, Your unique odour quite ignoring death. My hands reach out to touch, to hold what's dear And vital in my longing empty arms. But other clothes fill up the space, your space, And scent on scent send out strange false alarms. Not of your odour there is not a trace. But something unexpected still breaks through The goneness to the presentness of you. ? Madeleine L'Engle, The Ordering of Love: The New and Collected Poems of Madele ine L'Engle tags: poetry 14 likes Like Maurice Sendak Each month is gay, Each season nice, When eating Chicken soup With rice ? Maurice Sendak, Chicken Soup With Rice: A Book of Months tags: childhood, children, poetry 13 likes Like previous 1 2 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 99 100 next All Quotes | My Quotes | Add A Quote

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