Hindi Poem Quotes

Farsi Couplet:
Agar firdaus bar roo-e zameen ast,
Hameen ast-o hameen ast-o hameen ast.


English Translation:
If there is a paradise on earth,
It is this, it is this, it is this ~ Amir Khusrau

Brahma and Airavata
Long ago in lands of golden sand
Brahma turned to Saraswati
and gently kissed her inked hand ... ~ Muse

A woman is a poem, a man is a report ~ Bangambiki Habyarimana

I never liked the term "experimental writing," but what else is a prose poem? Having written a number of them, I still don't know how they're written. ~ Russell Edson

Yes, I know," Isadora said, and then read her poem, leaning forward so Carmelita Spats would not overhear:
"I would rather eat a bowl of vampire bats
than spend an hour with Carmelita Spats."
The Baudelaires giggled and then covered their mouths so nobody would know they were laughing at Carmelita.
"That was great," Klaus said. "I like the part about the bowl of bats. ~ Lemony Snicket

Just know I am
Not there to catch you
But I am there for you ~ Caleb Warta

This magnificent poem [Exodus 15:1-21] has been much analyzed, dissected, scanned, and compared with an array of supposed precedent and counterpart works. It has been variously attributed and dated, and forced into a wide variety of forms and Sitze im Leben. There have been attempts to determine some parts of it as early and some parts as late, and to describe therefrom an evolution of both its form and its content. None of these attempts has been entirely successful. The best of them have amounted to no more than helpful suggestions, while the worst of them have been fiction bordering fantasy. ~ John I. Durham

Chogyam is spinning, watching the spinning / samsara; If there is no samsara / spinning, there is no Chogyam.
- from the poem Cynical Letter by Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche ~ Trungpa Chogyam

There are different gradations of personhood in different poems. Some of them seem far away from me and some up close, and the up-close ones generally don't say what I want them to say. And that's true of the persona in the poem who's lamenting this as a fact of a certain stage of life. But it's also true of me as me. ~ Anne Carson

Do not listen to what any society tells you about the body - the body is the metaphor for all experience. A woman's body more than any other. Like language, its beautiful but weaker sister. Look at this poem. This painting. Look at these photographs. The body doesn't lie. ~ Lidia Yuknavitch

Anything I can sing, I call a song. Anything I can't sing, I call a poem. ~ Bob Dylan

The only sea I saw Was the seesaw sea With you riding on it. Lie down, lie easy. Let me shipwreck in your thighs. ~ Dylan Thomas

Woman is frequently praised as the more "creative" sex. She does not need to make poems, it is argued; she has no drive to make poems, because she is privileged to make babies. A pregnancy is as fulfilling as, say, Yeats' Sailing to Byzantium ... To call a child a poem may be a pretty metaphor, but it is a slur on the labor of art. ~ Cynthia Ozick

The award of a pure gold medal for poetry would flatter the recipient unduly: no poem ever attains such carat purity. ~ Robert Graves

Backward we traveled to reclaim the day
Before we fell, like Icarus, undone;
All we find are altars in decay
And profane words scrawled black across the sun.
From the poem "Doom of the Exiles", written 16 April 1954 ~ Sylvia Plath

If your workshop praises a poem, don't think everyone is too nice to tell you how terrible it really is. (If it is that kind of workshop, you should get out of it as soon as possible - honest feedback is the sign that people respect your writing and take it seriously.) ~ Kim Addonizio

A poem is good if it contains a new analogy and startles the reader out of the habit of treating words as counters. ~ T. E. Hulme

Eyes and ears are two.
Lungs and kidneys, too.
I wonder then
why we're born with one
heart that skips a beat when hay is here,
and beats quickly when you are near.
One heart that cracks when you are far,
lie to me and leave a scar.
I wonder then
why we're born with one
heart that gets broken.
Was I supposed to find you then?
So your heart would make one
plus one is
two
for me and
two for you. ~ Kamand Kojouri

Her question was clear-
"Father, where does the Loss reside?"
In the sighs?
Cheeks with tears wiped?
A lost appetite?
Owning a room confined?
Or in the smiles all falsified?

Thus, the Father decide,
It is no matter to hide, he replied-
"I think its deep inside,
Probably,
In the layers of your soul,
Where the body provides it,
Ample food to be-
Magnified, multiplied, intensified.
But once you clarify,
That its not to be occupied inside,
It starves of supplies,
And dies.

So child, when there is loss,
Make sure you refuse to invite it inward,
And absolutely never make it your lifelong parasite. ~ Jasleen Kaur Gumber

Tender Ember
... Barred and branded
to be forever unloved
I was a tender ember
seeking solace from above ... ~ Muse

the sun walks out
as the moon walks in.
and the sky,
the sky embraces
both.
so i'll embrace,
embrace all sides of me.

- the love of the sky. ~ F.farai

If a poem is not memorable, there's probably something wrong. One of the problems of free verse is that much of the free verse poetry is not memorable. ~ Robert Morgan

Mistaken

Memories are all that I have to anchor me,
Yet they're often what leaves me unhinged,
Falling from that could I thought was so safe.
You came to a place, where – besides me –
You were uninvited.
Leaving, you promised me I could always
Count on you.

I especially miss that.

My kindred spirit,
The one who promised to love me,
Only to prove yourself a liar –
Going from Prince Charming
To the Big Bad Wolf,
Truly thinking only of yourself

Leaving me
With empty promises, alone in the dark,
Burnt from the initial spark
Of what I mistook for love,
Making my memories a false refuge.

(full poem) ~ Jenn Waterman

Natalie Lyalin is writing some of the best poems in the world. There is an evil in her gorgeous poem-hearts. She must have sold her heart to the devil to write like this - so beautiful, so funny and so strange. Her images stack and stack down the page without spilling, each line such a bombshell you'll start reading backward to the first line. These poems are like babies - they will pop out of trees. ~ Zachary Schomburg

Watch, how the sun
slowly rises
from behind my ear

new lines, new countries
spring up in my palms

my rough hair
become swaying silk

and all the leaves
in my body
become lusher than fruits. ~ Sanober Khan

The first test any poem must pass is no longer, 'Is it true to nature?' but a criterion looking in a different direction: namely, 'Is it sincere? Is it genuine?' ~ M.H. Abrams

My best days do seem like a distillation of all that was best about school. Write a story! Paint a picture! Write a poem! Make a print! ~ Mark Haddon

The best poem is that whose worked-upon unmagical passages come closest, in texture and intensity, to those moments of magical accident. ~ Dylan Thomas

Free from ivory-tower
the pencil twirls
across the footpath ~ Santosh Kalwar

Particularly when I thought of myself as a Wallace Stevens acolyte, I wrote very difficult poetry and I was really guilty of not knowing what I was talking about. I was going for a kind of clever verbal effect. I was trying to sound linguistically or verbally interesting. I had a sense, I guess, from just reading a lot of poetry of how a poem would start and how it would end but really I didn't know what I was doing. It had very little connection to my life. ~ Billy Collins

All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

I just know,
You are going to completely lose me.
I just know,
I no longer want you to want me.
I just know,
I don't want to wait for you anymore.

I realized,
You are not someone made for me.
I understood that,
You don't deserve my love.

I just know,
You are going to completely lose me. ~ Jyoti Patel

What is War and Peace? It is not a novel, even less is it a poem, and still less an historical chronicle. War and Peace is what the author wished and was able to express in the form in which it is expressed. Such ~ Leo Tolstoy

the centre of every poem is this:
i have loved you. i have had to deal with that. ~ Salma Deera

The poem has a social effect of some kind whether or not the poet wills it to have. It has a kenetic force, it sets in motion ... elements in the reader that would otherwise remain stagnant. ~ Denise Levertov

You know the worst thing is freedom. Freedom of any kind is the worst for creativity. You know, Dali spent two months in jail in Spain, and these two months were the most enjoyable and happy in my life. Before my jail period, I was always nervous, anxious. I didn't know if I should make a drawing, or perhaps make a poem, or go to the movies or the theatre, or catch a girl, or play with the boys. The people put me in jail, and my life became divine. Tremendous! ~ Salvador Dali

You didn't take part, Benjamin?" Gunther asked, as he passed me a plate of cheese and cold meat.
"My brother doesn't play games," said Paul. "He's an aesthete. He sat by the window all afternoon with a funny look on his face: probably composing a tone poem. ~ Jonathan Coe

With this pen I take in hand my selves
and with these dead disciples I will grapple.
Though rain curses the window
let the poem be made. ~ Anne Sexton

We are the eyes of the world - I knock on your heart, We do not need a key. Our lips, they flow like an endless river; And wake up and dream on the edge of the era. ~ Kristian Goldmund Aumann

What if dragons breathed bubbles
and purred when they cuddled
and giggled at chivalrous knights for their troubles?

What if dragons felt soft,
having scales made of cloth,
and they moved rather slow like a brown-throated sloth?

What if dragons were shy
and did easily cry
when confronted by characters callous and sly?

What if dragons did good
but were misunderstood
so men mercilessly slew the beasts right where they stood?

What if dragons aren't missed
because there is no list
of extinct types of quarry that now don't exist? ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

I believe that everyone in the world.
has
one poem.
that is their soulmate. ~ Nayyirah Waheed

My dearest brother," Marjorie replied with a sorrowful smile. "I am only sorry your heart has been broken."
"Cassius was right to refuse me," Merrick replied even as the words ripped the fresh wound along the seams again. "He was only protecting himself. His reputation."
The words stuck in his throat. Had Merrick thought about the repercussions, he would've chosen a different route last night. He would not have done it so publicly perhaps, for Cassius's sake, no matter what they'd whispered to each other their last night together.
"I do not care who knows. It is only the harm it could do that holds me back. If I could, I would walk proudly by your side."
But what then? It was a jumbled mess no matter the outcome.
Marjorie shook her head. "Cassius was protecting you. That much was evident."
The words only warmed Merrick for a brief instant. He knew Cassius cared for him. But now he understood that the idea of them being together was only a fool's wish, no matter how many times he recited the words of Cas's poem from memory and wished them true with all his might ~ Riley Hart

For you are abstract,
making no mistake,
slurring no word
in the rhythm you make,
the poem,
writ in the air. ~ Hilda Doolittle

EMBRACE Will you walk in my garden Our hands to hold? Will we never be parting If we ever grow old? Will you stay with me As bad arises? Life writes its own rules Some with nasty surprises. When the sun no longer Smiles on my face Will your love be stronger As I dream in your Embrace? A poem by Karen Lyons Kalmenson ~ David Mezzapelle

A book, a poem, a play - they start as fantasms but they end up as things, like a box of crackers or an automobile tire. ~ Arthur Miller

A good poem looks life straight in the face, unflinching, sincere, equal to revelation through loss or gain. ~ David Whyte

My memories are not books. They are only stories that I have been over so many times in my head that I don't know from one day to the next what's remembered and what's made up. Like when you memorize a poem, and for one small unimportant part you supply your own words. The meaning's the same, the meter's identical. When you read the actual version you can never get it into your head that it's right and you're wrong. ~ Elizabeth McCracken

...Hell is the home of the unreal and of the seekers for happiness. It is the only refuge from heaven, which is, as I tell you, the home of the masters of reality, and from earth, which is the home of the slaves of reality. The earth is a nursery in which men and women play at being heroes and heroines, saints and sinners; but they are dragged down from their fool's paradise by their bodies: hunger and cold and thirst, age and decay and disease, death above all, make them slaves of reality: thrice a day meals must be eaten and digested: thrice a century a new generation must be engendered: ages of faith, of romance, and of science are all driven at last to have but one prayer, "Make me a healthy animal." But here you escape this tyranny of the flesh; for here you are not an animal at all: you are a ghost, an appearance, an illusion, a convention, deathless, ageless: in a word, bodiless. There are no social questions here, no political questions, no religious questions, best of all, perhaps, no sanitary questions. Here you call your appearance beauty, your emotions love, your sentiments heroism, your aspirations virtue, just as you did on earth; but here there are no hard facts to contradict you, no ironic contrast of your needs with your pretensions, no human comedy, nothing but a perpetual romance, a universal melodrama. As our German friend put it in his poem, "the poetically nonsensical here is good sense; and the Eternal Feminine draws us ever upward and on... ~ George Bernard Shaw

Poetry is a river; many voices travel in it; poem after poem moves along in the exciting crests and falls of the river waves. None is timeless; each arrives in an historical context; almost everything, in the end, passes. But the desire to make a poem, and the world's willingness to receive it
indeed the world's need of it
these never pass. ~ Mary Oliver

The best poems take long journeys. I like poetry best that journeys
while remaining in the human scale
to the other world, which may be a place as easily overlooked as a bee's wing ~ Robert Bly