Love Poetry Death Quotes

I desired my dust to be mingled with yours
Forever and forever and forever. ~ Ezra Pound

To reach the spirit world
To be free of these promises


I would find you, and we would laugh
at the old ways we tried to love. ~ Anne Fall

Love is the magic ink, which transform everyday life into a poetry. ~ Debasish Mridha

Thing were falling apart. We just could not slow down. We were evolving into something greater, perhaps too much for our own good. And one thing always remained as I moved on. I saved a little bit of love just in case you would ever return home. ~ Robert M. Drake

be good to yourself
you're the only you
you'll ever get ~ R H Sin

Do You Believe
... on this road of life
on this day
I take you
now husband and wife ... ~ Muse

She is the sweet fragrance,
The magic of the dusk,
The cloud in the waterfall,
The drops spilled as dew,
Rays filtering in the morning. ~ Jyoti Patel

The Temperature is Rising
The heartbeat quickens my breath is controlled,my senses are illuminated like a mother to her young. This feeling I have I've know it before, when the gates are opened I'll remember the beginning. Awaiting, dreaming imagining the endless possibilities of moments together as I give into my desires. My body reacts it has a mind of its own leaving little clues yet I continue on.
Poised and professional I cross my origin the passion that awaits it stirs like a simmer. The sweet aroma a treat being made just for him I know he will like, the hunger in his eyes his mouth soft and strong it only took me a moment as he continued to look on. I didn't even recognize my sound as I was in a sphere all alone I hoped and imagined it would be but my mind was left in awe like sweet chocolate after a meal. ~ M.I. Ghostwriter

Boys learn too late that being the man, is not the same thing as being a man. ~ Atticus Poetry

A poet is someone whose words can grasp & pull the thread of a person's soul & make them unravel with delight. ~ Curtis Tyrone Jones

Silly girl, your different was your beautiful all along. ~ Atticus Poetry

the eyes want what the eyes see poor heart gets the blame. ~ Spoken Silence

My true-love hath my heart and I have his,
By just exchange one for the other given:
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;
There never was a bargain better driven. ~ Philip Sidney

What madness, to love a man as something more than human! I lived in a fever, convulsed with tears and sighs that allowed me neither rest nor peace of mind. My soul was a burden, bruised and bleeding. It was tired of the man who carried it, but I found no place to set it down to rest. Neither the charm of the countryside nor the sweet scents of a garden could soothe it. It found no peace in song or laughter, none in the company of friends at table or in the pleasures of love, none even in books or poetry. Everything that was not what my friend had been was dull and distasteful. I had heart only for sighs and tears, for in them alone I found some shred of consolation. ~ Augustine Of Hippo

Madano!

What if I tell you
that
I often confuse my innerself
with a place
more like kashmir,
and you
with its seasons
for
Whenever you arrive
I know
It is spring in Kashmir
and
whenever you depart
I know
It is fall in kashmir. ~ Aqib Shah

Maybe some people are only ever meant to be missed. ~ Meg Flores

Let love be the gravestone
Lying on my life. ~ Anna Akhmatova

It was the spirit of poetry who reached out and found me as I stood there at the doorway between panic and love. ~ Joy Harjo

How I love, how I loved to stare
At the ironclad shores,
On the balcony, where forever
No foot stepped, not mine, not yours.

And in truth you are -- a capital
For the mad and luminous us;
But when over Nieva sail
Those special, pure hours
And the winds of May fly over
You past the iron beams
You are like a dying sinner
Seeing heavenly dreams... ~ Anna Akhmatova

Words
will
scratch
more
hearts
than
swords. ~ Atticus Poetry

Just as a musician loves music and not nightingales, and a poet loves poetry and not sunsets, a painter is not primarily a person who responds to figures and landscapes. He is primarily one who loves pictures. ~ Andre Malraux

Marriage is a contract between 2 people male and female;doing what it takes to make the union work until death due them apart ~ Martellis Thurmand

It's almost deafening silence is the anchor to those who take shelter in its wake. It's a war within the mind ,the battle with in the heart. Take shelter in your war you can almost hear the silent cries. Be gentle, be kind because even in silence everyone is fighting. ~ Ventum

Everything loses
it's splendour and light
when your lashes flop
over the dark circles
below your eyes.
Asleep. Soft.
With a scent of the
date cookies
you ate as a child. ~ Tatjana Ostojic

There's no one to mourn for a life that love stole. ~ Phar West Nagle

If everyone only gave a fraction of the compassion their hearts are capable of giving... how much suffering could we alleviate in this world? ~ Alfa Holden

He said that he felt that there was a book hidden between us. Some small thing lodged between a rib or a summer. and He wanted to find it. ~ Mikl Paul

The Apache don't have a word for love," he said.
"Know what they both say at the marriage? The squaw-taking ceremony?"
"Tell me."
"Varlebena. It means forever. That's all they say. ~ Louis L'Amour

Don't ignore anybody who has ignored everbody and everything for you. ~ Adis Ahmedi

Back home, Huxley drew from this experience to compose a series of audacious attacks against the Romantic love of wilderness. The worship of nature, he wrote, is "a modern, artificial, and somewhat precarious invention of refined minds." Byron and Wordsworth could only rhapsodize about their love of nature because the English countryside had already been "enslaved to man." In the tropics, he observed, where forests dripped with venom and vines, Romantic poets were notably absent. Tropical peoples knew something Englishmen didn't. "Nature," Huxley wrote, "is always alien and inhuman, and occasionally diabolic." And he meant always: Even in the gentle woods of Westermain, the Romantics were naive in assuming that the environment was humane, that it would not callously snuff out their lives with a bolt of lightning or a sudden cold snap. After three days amid the Tuckamore, I was inclined to agree. ~ Robert Moor

Poetry contains few words but tells much. Its beauty is that by being condensed it is rich in meaning and open to various interpretations. Unlike prose, there is no boundary to poetry. There is nothing concrete or black and white. Poetry is mutable; it is transformative. Poetry is the alchemy of hearts. And what cannot be said in prose can sometimes be only said through poetry. ~ Salil Jha

Lines for Winter

Tell yourself
as it gets cold and gray falls from the air
that you will go on
walking, hearing
the same tune no matter where
you find yourself -
inside the dome of dark
or under the cracking white
of the moon's gaze in a valley of snow.
Tonight as it gets cold
tell yourself
what you know which is nothing
but the tune your bones play
as you keep going. And you will be able
for once to lie down under the small fire
of winter stars.
And if it happens that you cannot
go on or turn back
and you find yourself
where you will be at the end,
tell yourself
in that final flowing of cold through your limbs
that you love what you are. ~ Mark Strand

My hair smells of oceanic wind
My eyes are two starfish
The charming, turquoise sea
is seducing me
The rhythms of the calming
Crashing waves are my guide
Omnipotent, almost holy,
They seek to cleanse my polluted soul
Here, by the seductive sea,
I am unshackled. I am free.
I am me. ~ Melody Lee

I am a verb, not a noun. ~ Tirza Schaefer