Loving You Poems And Quotes

i am changing
and i am loving change. ~ AVA.

His tongue was one of his greatest qualities. He knew exactly how to use it with me. Encouraging, kind, and loving words flowed freely and frequently from his lips. Always inspiring me to upgrade my thinking. His tongue spoke life into me… Awakening gifts in me that I didn't know existed. He used his tongue wisely. Truth be told, he's part of the reason why I am me. Exquisite, Powerful, Fearless, and Unapologetic. I'll be forever grateful for his genuine love. ~ Stephanie Lahart

By loving you,
I learn everything
because your soul
contains the entire universe. ~ Kamand Kojouri

The point of the resurrection ... is that the present bodily life is not valueless just because it will die ... What you do with your body in the present matters because God has a great future in store for it ... What you do in the present - by painting, preaching, singing, sewing, praying, teaching, building hospitals, digging wells, campaigning for justice, writing poems, caring for the needy, loving your neighbor as yourself - will last into God's future. These activities are not simply ways of making the present life a little less beastly, a little more bearable, until the day when we leave it behind altogether (as the hymn so mistakenly puts it ... ). They are part of what we may call building for God's kingdom. ~ N. T. Wright

As we joined the line of people getting off at the last stop before Sofia, I looked once more at the little boy, whom I felt I would never forget, though maybe it wasn't exactly him I would remember, I thought, but the use I would make of him. I had my notes, I knew I would write a poem about him, and then it would be the poem I remembered, which would be both true and false at once, the image I made replacing the real image. Making poems was a way of loving things, I had always thought, of preserving them, of living moments twice; or more than that, it was a way of living more fully, of bestowing on experience a richer meaning. But that wasn't what it felt like when I looked back at the boy, wanting a last glimpse of him; it felt like a loss. Whatever I could make of him would diminish him, and I wondered whether I wasn't really turning my back on things in making them into poems, whether instead of preserving the world I was taking refuge from it. ~ Garth Greenwell

If loving you is a sin, then let hell be my paradise. ~ Lily Fields

I have seen your
darkest nights
and brightest days
and I want you to know
that I will be here
forever
loving you
in dusk. ~ Atticus Poetry

Like the tigress
watching her playing cub
while napping,
covered with sun rays
that are blinding her.
She opens her eyes wider
at every sound,
at every movement of
the trees, air, soil…
Protective. Alert.
That is how you look at me.
Wanting to save me
from all that could harm me.
Preventing my pain by loving me ~ Tatjana Ostojic

Loving you feels like my commitment to eternity a long time ago ~ Nicola An

You know someone is special to you when you're literally captivated by them in even the little moments. The slightest thing they say or do, is like watching the universe unfold. And nothing else matters in those moments.

Where you go about your day, & the most capricious of things send you into a whirlwind of thoughts connected to them. And a plethora of thoughts flood into your mind, for no apparent reason other than its them.

Or perhaps, you randomly see a picture of them in your news feed & you just pause & look, & the world melts away & all time seems to stop, & there's a radiance that illuminates your life. And you focus on the little details, & wish you could just capture every single detail vividly.

And you see their eyes, & though they're merely a moment in time, their eyes are so beautiful, that they transcend the medium & are as if they're there looking back. And all you can do it look into them. Knowing those eyes are what you could look into endlessly.
And you know that it's all you could ever want, if for just a single moment in time.

Or they share their thoughts, & you rack your brain around how they think. An you just want to understand & know more of their thoughts, simply because they're theirs.

They, to you, are a more elegant work of art than even the finest painting, songs or poems of the great artists. And you know that even the most renowned artist c ~ Trevor Driggers

I think of published poets that you could know of...I think [Rainer Maria Rilke] probably has the most great published poems of any poet [...] but Rilke himself was an asshole. If you look at his biography, he was probably misogynist; he was a liar, a cheat; he was a terrible father; he was selfish; he put people down; he had no consideration for anyone [...] yet, he transcends that in his greatest poems. There's that ineffable, spiritual quality - that he himself couldn't reach! But somewhere underneath that reptilian exterior, that asshole exterior of Rainer Maria Rilke, there was some good that came through – like these little sunbursts coming through clouds – that had that moment. And he'd write the Duino Elegies, he'd write the New Poems, and somewhere, that came through.
And that's an amazing thing: you can have a lot of great people who are great individuals, who are loving and caring – and they can't do that. And that's not to say that their lives are meaningless, but they will never be able to affect anyone past the propinquity of their existence. They are never going to be able to affect someone in China; they are never going to be able to affect someone in 2132 the way Rilke can.
And that specialness needs to be acknowledged; that specialness needs to be upheld; it needs to be rewarded, and people need to say, 'Goddamn – that's a good thing! It's a good thing that people make art! ~ Dan Schneider

They want to know
who I write these poems for.
Tell them it's for all lovers
because I don't see a difference
between our love
and their love. ~ Kamand Kojouri

There's too much risk in loving,'
the young boy said,
'no,'
said the old man,
'there's too much risk in not. ~ Atticus Poetry

I wonder why we always deny love. I remember in middle school, if you were accused of the crime of loving, you screamed denials constantly and stopped ever even looking at the boy you were accused of liking. The boys could destroy each other by yodeling, "An-drew lo-oves Jen-nie," and both Andrew and Jennie would flinch and blush. Love is this great thing that most songs and books and poems and lives are all about. So the minute we actually think there might be love around, we start laughing and pretending and hiding from it. ~ Caroline B. Cooney

I Pray For This Girl

Oh yes! For the young girl
Who just landed on Mother Earth!
The one about to turn five with a smile
Or the other one who just turned nine
She is not only mine
My Mother's, Grandmother's
Neighbour's or friend's daughter
She is like a flower
Very fragile, yet so gorgeous
An Angel whose wings are invisible

I speak life to this young or older girl
She might not have a say
But expects the world to be a better place
Whether affluent or impoverished
No matter her state of mind
Her background must not determine
How she is treated
She needs to live, she has to thrive!

Lord God Almighty
Sanctify her unique journey
Save her from the claws of the enemy
Shield her against any brutality
Restore her if pain becomes a reality
Embrace her should joy pass swiftly
When emptiness fills her heart severely
May you be her sanctuary!

Dear Father, please give her
The honour to grow without being frightened
Hope whenever she feels forsaken
Contentment even after her heart was broken
Comfort when she is shaken
Courage when malice creeps in
Calm when she needs peace
Strength when she is weak
Freedom to climb on a mountain peak
And wisdom to tackle any season

Guide her steps, keep her from tumbling
My Lord, if she does sometimes stumble
Lift her up, so she can ri ~ Gift Gugu Mona

His eyes mimic mine.
Sublime beauty marks
of a man's face.
Staring and penetrating.
Gentle and loving.
Salacious.
Immaculate.
Feeding my hope
and starving my anguish. ~ Tatjana Ostojic

And now my old dog is dead, and another I had after him, and my parents are dead, and that first world, that old house, is sold and lost, and the books I gathered there lost, or sold- but more books bought, and in another place, board by board and stone by stone, like a house, a true life built, and all because I was steadfast about one or two things: loving foxes, and poems, the blank piece of paper, and my own energy- and mostly the shimmering shoulders of the world that shrug carelessly over the fate of any individual that they may, the better, keep the Niles and Amazons flowing. ~ Mary Oliver

From a literary standpoint, I've been loving Raymond Carver's short stories, William Carlos Williams' poems, Richard Siken's 'Crush', John Fante, and Jim Harrison's book of ghazals. I love film and photography too, so many of my songs are very image rich from those influences. ~ Greta Salpeter

If I could sum up my poetry in a few well-chosen words, the result might be a poem. Several years ago, when I was asked to say something on this topic, I came up with the notion that for me the making of poems is both a commemoration (a moment captured) and an evocation (the archaeologist manqué side of me digging into something buried and bringing it to light). But I also said that I find the processes that bring poems into being mysterious, and I wouldn't really wish to know them; the thread that links the first unwilled impulse to the object I acknowledge as the completed poem is a tenuous one, easily broken. If I knew the answers to these riddles, I would write more poems, and better ones. "Simple Poem" is as close as I can get to a credo':

Simple Poem

I shall make it simple so you understand.
Making it simple will make it clear for me.
When you have read it, take me by the hand
As children do, loving simplicity.

This is the simple poem I have made.
Tell me you understand. But when you do
Don't ask me in return if I have said
All that I meant, or whether it is true. ~ Anthony Thwaite