Poems On Life Quotes

From the life's pen
My ink flows and my feelings pour
Some call it poetry
I call it my boat's oar… ~ Neelam Saxena Chandra

MY FATHER
If I have to write a poem about my father
it has to be about integrity
and kindness -
the selfless kind of kindness
that is so very rare
I am sure there will be many people
living somewhere who must be as kind as him
but what I mean to say is
I have not met one yet

and when it comes to helping others
he always helps too much
and as the saying goes -
help someone, you earn a friend.
help someone too much,
you make an enemy. -
so you know the gist of what
I'm trying to say here

anyways I was talking about the
poem about my father
it has to be about
passion
and hard work
because you see
you cannot separate these
things from him
they are part of him as his two eyes and
two hands and his heart and his soul
and his whole being
and you cannot separate
wind and waves
or living and the universe
or earth and heavens
and although he never got any
award from bureaucracy
the students he taught ages ago
still touch his feet and some
of them are the people
you have to make
an appointment to meet even if
it is for two minutes of their time
and that's a reward for him
bigger than any other that
some of his colleagues got
for their flattery

and also I have to write about
reliability as well
because you see < ~ Neena H Brar

Scent of old books a mystery; a secret port of the dreamers. ~ China Cancio

Faith helps you to over come all the troubles,
If you faith, troubles will blow out like bubbles.
So let faith become your strength,
As faith will help you to walk the length. ~ Ron Sen

I was just an option.
Blown easily to pieces
and offered to the sky
by the sweet laced pain
upon your lips. ~ Jessica Kristie

Nothing is impossible : just a mind's spark ! ~ Alexandre Schoedler

When Love Was New

When love was new
and life was young,
and once we walked
in gracious sun,
I never dreamt of darker days,
or feared that fate had cruel ways.

When life was strong
and love was free,
and time was once
eternity -
we never planned for more or less,
nor stopped to think we should digress.

When love was young
and life was new,
and everything
was once our due,
I never doubted what I owned,
nor knew the cost was merely loaned.

Now love is tried
and life is old,
and still my feet
drag down the road -
not knowing where it all has gone,
nor how much more it still goes on.

But life grows new
and love gets old,
and this tired heart
stays off the cold -
not caring it compares with fools,
nor wise enough to fear the rules.
-Drea Damara ~ Drea Damara

I've never seen beauty
so devastating
as in the lines
that trace our hope
and fall from the stars. ~ Jessica Kristie

Poems On Life:
Life is given to us,
we earn it by giving it.
Let the dead have the immortality of fame,
but the living the immortality of love.
Life's errors cry for the merciful beauty
that can modulate their isolation into a
harmony with the whole.
Life, like a child, laughs,
shaking its rattle of death as it runs. ~ Rabindranath Tagore

Bridge burned from end to end,
and I don't miss you anymore.
You delivered silence
I've birthed freedom. ~ Jessica Kristie

Steep fall to the ground
shattering
like clay pigeons
missed
by bad shots
and unsteady hands. ~ Jessica Kristie

In a world muddled with madness, I made a conscious effort to stay sane. ~ Angela Colleen Prendergast

The flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh. ~ Charles Bukowski

I bleed to un-break you,
un-mending me.
I fall to save you...
now who will save me. ~ Jessica Kristie

A Lancashire Weaver

This place might be haunted
the ghost hunter said
'Midst the dust and the grime
walk the feet of the dead.
The machines now stand idle
Looms clatter no more
There's a stack of old bobbins
piled up by the door.
I remember my Mam
she worked here, so she said
A Lancashire weaver
but now she is dead
Along with this mill
and along with the dreams
of working mill lasses
and their jobs, so it seems
We once wove the best
cotton cloth in the world
But now that's all gone
on the scrap heap been hurled
The clatter of clogs
on the old cobbled street
the humdrum staccato
from thousands of feet.
Tough work and much hardship
and many a care
Folks they got by
for brass, it was rare
but still we had pride
By Christ, did we ever!
Will it ever come back
The answer is NEVER
This place might be haunted
the ghost hunter said
'Midst the dust and the grime
walk the feet of the dead.
I'm glad that my Mam
never saw it this way
Out in all weathers
came here every day
When this closed down
she had already died
Perhaps just as well
She'd have bloody well cried. ~ David Hayes

Poetry comes to me like breathing. I inhale and breathe in the fragrances, flavors, emotions, sentiments, and feelings of people and places and breathe out poetry. ~ Avijeet Das

She wasn't broken.
She was made up of a thousand tiny little cracks.
She was always trying to keep herself glued together.
But it was hard, she felt too much.
No matter what she did, her emotions seeped through,
sometimes in drips, other times in floods,
She felt everything,
the heaviness of the clouds right before rain,
the rush of the subway cars as they left the station,
the feeling of goodbye as she watched someone walk away,
wondering if it was the last time she would see them,
the feeling of a kiss lingering on her cheek for hours.
She felt the loneliness of the sun as it hung in the sky,
shedding light on the day,
without companion.

And she longed to give as much as the sun.
If she could brighten someone's day,
bestow warmth were there was cold,
make someone smile, give someone hope,
then for a minute, an hour, maybe even a day,
the cracks would fill with love
and the pain would become only a voice,
reminding her that her pain was important.
She knew how fragile life was, how hard,
and how precious.

She wanted to feel it all. ~ Jacqueline Simon Gunn

Her thoughts were like the moon eclipsing the sun. ~ Jacqueline Simon Gunn

Careful.
The fall is quick,
steep,
and permanent. ~ Jessica Kristie

There lived a poet in the lands of gold,
Wrote along poems unaffected by warmth or cold,
His words spoke truth and pen's stroke was bold,
His only motive: lives to mould ~ Adhish Mazumder

I love

how grown children
will still
name

their mothers
the
most
beautiful.

It is
as though,

their eyes
have met
the cascading
curves

and golden
silhouettes
of every
woman.

Yet
their souls
still
drum

to the beat
of their
mother's
warmth
and care. ~ A Starry Eyed April

These days, things were different. Much different.

For the most part, what fun there was to be had at Upton Park came from the cat and mouse side of the contest. Thinking on your feet and trying to outwit old bill while still trying to get one over on the opposition. It was like a real life computer game, Theme Hooligan.

He still got a buzz from it though, but not the same buzz. And he wasn't alone. The scene was dying on its arse although that wasn't always down to the police. ~ Dougie Brimson

A strong wind is blowing and there are little crests of foam on the waves. Look carefully at the millions of shimmering white bubbles rising and then vanishing with each wave. Over and over again, new bubbles come to the surface and then vanish in time with the waves. For a brief moment they are lifted on the wave's crest and then they sink down and are seen no more. We are like that. Each one of us no more than a tiny glimmering thing, a sparkling droplet on the waves of time which flow past beneath us into an unknown, misty future. We leap up, look around us and, before we know it, we vanish again. We can hardly be seen in the great river of time. New drops keep rising to the surface. And what we call our fate is no more than our struggle in that multitude of droplets in the rise and fall of one wave. But we must make use of that moment. It is worth the effort. ~ Gombrich Ernst H

A woman who no longer cares about how she looks has given up on more than fashion – she's given up on life. ~ Kathleen Tessaro

I've always just had sort of a dark take on life, I suppose, and hopefully, the music transcends that in a way. ~ Jenny Lewis

In the Eastern story, the heavy slab that was to fall on the bed of state in the flush of conquest was slowly wrought out of the quarry, the tunnel of the rope to hold it in its place was slowly carried through the leagues of rock, the slab was slowly raised and fitted in the roof, the rope to the great iron ring. All being made ready with much labour, and the hour come, the sultan was aroused in the dead of the night, and the sharpened axe that was to sever the rope from the great iron ring was put into his hand, and he struck with it, and the rope parted and rushed away, and the ceiling fell. So, in my case; all the work, near and afar, that tended to the end had been accomplished, and in an instant the blow was struck, and the roof of my stronghold dropped upon me. ~ Charles Dickens

There are television sets in every home, every restaurant, every hotel room, every shopping mall-now they're even small enough to carry in your pocket like electronic rosaries. It is an unquestioned part of everyday life. Kneeling before the cathode ray God, with our TV Guide concordance in hand, we maintain the illusion of choice by flipping channels (chapters and verses). It doesn't matter what is flashing on the screen-all that's important is that the TV stays on. ~ Anton Szandor LaVey

I feel that it would be tedious for a person to have only one life. It would be much better to have two or three lives going on simultaneously ... ~ Mu Xin

I've heard people talk about the circle of life. What comes around goes around and other such contiguous descriptions. But I think life is a seesaw, the kind that used to populate every children's playground. Seesaws rarely balance. They're usually in motion, either flinging you up or dropping you down. They can be fun or they can be terrifying - a lot of it depends on the other person. ~ Jenell Hollett

One woman sent me on a letter written to her by her daughter, and the young girl's words are a remarkable statement about artistic creation as an infinitely versatile and subtle form of communication:
'...How many words does a person know?' she asks her mother. 'How many does he use in his everyday vocabulary? One hundred, two, three? We wrap our feelings up in words, try to express in words sorrow and joy and any sort of emotion, the very things that can't in fact be expressed. Romeo uttered beautiful words to Juliet, vivid, expressive words, but they surely didn't say even half of what made his heart feel as if it was ready to jump out of his chest, and stopped him breathing, and made Juliet forget everything except her love?
There's another kind of language, another form of communication: by means of feeling, and images. That is the contact that stops people being separated from each other, that brings down barriers. Will, feeling, emotion - these remove obstacles from between people who otherwise stand on opposite sides of a mirror, on opposite sides of a door.. The frames of the screen move out, and the world which used to be partitioned off comes into us, becomes something real... And this doesn't happen through little Audrey, it's Tarkovsky himself addressing the audience directly, as they sit on the other side of the screen. There's no death, there is immortality. Time is one and undivided, as it says in one of the poems. "At the table are great-grandfathers ~ Andrei Tarkovsky

To me, the idea of a weatherman is really powerful. There's a guy on television or on the radio telling us the future, and nobody cares. It's this daily mundane miracle, and I think the songs I chose are about noticing the beauty in normal, everyday life. ~ Gregory Alan Isakov

Recurring negative emotions do sometimes contain a message, as do illnesses. But any changes that you make, whether they have to do with your work, your relationships, or your surroundings, are ultimately only cosmetic unless they arise out of a change in your level of consciousness. And as far as that is concerned, it can only mean one thing: becoming more present. When you have reached a certain degree of presence, you don't need negativity anymore to tell you what is needed in your life situation. But as long as negativity is there, use it. Use it as a kind of signal that reminds you to be more present. WHENEVER YOU FEEL NEGATIVITY ARISING WITHIN YOU, whether caused by an external factor, a thought, or even nothing in particular that you are aware of, look on it as a voice saying, Attention. Here and Now. Wake up. Get out of your mind. Be present. ~ Eckhart Tolle

Ideas first and last: yet it is not till these are formulated and utilized that the devotees of the common sense discern their value and advantages. The idealist is the capitalist on whose resources multitudes are maintained life long. Ideas in the head set hands about their several tasks, thus carrying forward all human endeavors to their issues. ~ Amos Bronson Alcott

You can have great autonomy in the things you choose to learn and pursue on your own time. When you're learning things that interest you, challenge you, and make life worth living, getting an education can be blissful and stimulating. ~ Kate Bornstein

I want so badly to help you realize, Elizabeth Anne, how difficult and puzzling and full of wonder it all is: some day I will tell you how I learned to watch the shifting light of autumn days or smelled the earth through snow in March; how one winter morning God vanished from my life and how one summer evening I sat in a Ferris wheel, looking down on a man that hurt me badly; I will tell you how I once travelled to Rome and saw all the soldiers in that city of dead poets; I will tell you how I met your father outside a movie house in Toronto, and how you came to be. Perhaps that is where I will begin. On a winter afternoon when we turn the lights on early, or perhaps a summer day of leaves and sky, I will begin by conjugating the elemental verb. I am. You are. It is. ~ Richard B. Wright

In sci-fi convention, life-forms that hadn't developed space travel were mere prehistory
horse-shoe crabs of the cosmic scene
and something of the humiliation of being stuck on a provincial planet in a galactic backwater has stayed with me ever since. ~ Barbara Ehrenreich

There are Navajo teachings about how a car works. This vehicle is very much like a horse, operating on the same principles. The automobile is considered more "intelligent," and we think of it in such terms. The automobile is mad eof iron and steel taken from the earth. This iron is the earth's spirit, which has been made into the body of the automobile. The trees, as vegetation, were also taken from the earth and made into rubber for the tires. The air, or spirit, is the same as that of a horse's breath of life, instilled in its body. The arms and legs of the auto makes it move. Then there are the dark storm clouds and heavenly bodies like lightning, which are found inside the auto to give it power. This is exactly the same power the horse has.

Water, which comes from the earth, is put into the auto for its cooling system. Oil from the earth is similar to the fat from the earth a horse receives. Just as gasoline comes from the earth as fuel, plants are in a horse's body to make it operate. Therefore, horses and cars are the sam in every way. ~ John Holiday

Are we friends?"
"Of course," I say carefully.
"Do you want to suddenly marry me and become a family?"
My chest tightens, and my throat goes dry. "Syd …"
"Answer me, Dec."
"No, I don't …"
She raises her hand. "Then there's nothing to say. We were friends who shared a passionate kiss. We can blame it on a full moon or whatever you want. However, if you want to be friends, that has to be the last time. I can't keep doing this. My feelings for you have always been what they are. I love you, want a life with you, but I can't let myself hope when you're clear there is none. So, I beg you. Love me or let me go because my heart can't take anymore."
And with that, she walks out, leaving me feeling like a complete asshole. ~ Corinne Michaels

In this world, you are either good or evil. If not, then a court or a teacher or a parent is bound to tag your identity before you've had a chance to figure it out on your own. The gray middle ground, that mucous-thin terrain where most of life resides, is really only a temporary annex, like gestation or purgatory. ~ Elizabeth L. Silver

My captain once said that you meet people in your life who you believe will be your companions on the road, only to discover that they fall by the wayside. Others who you meet without design climb mountains with you, ~ Sally Gardner

The subjects range from the pastoral (sniffing of the butt of a melon to tell if it's ripe. and almost romantically lush descriptions of lightening storms sweeping across fields on summer nights) to elaborations on the value of man's having a life of his own, apart from whatever life he has with his family, a private life that no one knows anything about, "a place he can be himself without concern of disappointment or rejection". ~ A.M. Homes

You can't know how weird your own life is until you get some distance on it. Everything seems mundane or boring or embarrassingly small. ~ Kyle Minor

His wings burned and he felt ashamed. This life in Italy had been a dark and ugly death for her. One of the worst. He would never stop blaming himself for the horrible way she had passed out of this life.
But that was years after where Daniel stood today. This was the hospital where they'd first met, when Lucia was so young and lovely, innocent and saucy in the same breath. Here she had loved him instantly and completely. Though she was too young for Daniel to show he loved her back,he had never discouraged her affection. She used to slip her hand inside his when they strolled under the orange trees on the Piazza della Repubblica,but when he squeezed her hand,she would blush.It always made him laugh,the way she could be so bold, then suddenly turn shy.She used to tell him that she wanted to marry him someday.
"You're back!"
Daniel spun around. He hadn't heard the door behind him opening. Lucia jumped when she saw him. She was beaming, showing a perfect row of tiny white teeth. Her beauty took his breath away.
What did she mean,he was back? Ah, this was when he'd hidden from Luce,frightened of killing her by accident. He was not allowed to reveal anything to her; she had to discover the details for herself. Was he even to hint broadly,she would simply combust. Had he stayed,she might have grilled him and perhaps forced the truth out of him...He didn't dare. ~ Lauren Kate

...'All this suffering,' I said, 'and nothing but greed and violence to build on when the war is over.'
'Have another soda-mint,' said Charles.
I had one. Then I said, 'Why are we here? That's what I don't understand. Why be here at all when it all has to be so beastly?'
'I suppose we just came, like mould on cheese.'
'Then why do we want to be happy? Mould on cheese doesn't want to be happy.' ... ~ Joyce Dennys

Do not underestimate the power of compassion; you will be surprise how an act of kindness, love and caring can be a powerful affection in every life on this universe. ~ Jesus Apolinaris

The life-and-death question for each of our churches and denominations may boil down to this: are we a club for the elite who pretend to have arrived or a school for disciples who are still on the way? ~ Brian D. McLaren

Why do we make gardens? The act seems so extravagant, so illogical. Don't we have enough hard work in our lives already? Are we looking for more? Why on earth do we bother?
It takes a kind of courage. You have to learn to cherish. You have to dare, to take the risk, to bother, to care. To make a garden, you have to be able to love and to see yourself as capable of nurturing.
It takes patience, too. If the garden is to thrive you must commit yourself to it for years, for the creation of a garden takes place over time. Like a child, a garden has needs that have to be met, whether we feel like it or not, day after day.
You have to have confidence. You have to take charge and be responsible. You have to act upon the garden.
And you have to let it act upon you. Because it will act upon you. And will knit you together with the rest of the world. It will not let you stand apart.
The challenge is hard, but it is irresistible. To get dirty, to get involved. To act and be acted upon. That is life. If we stop accepting that challenge, we stop living. ~ Simone Martel

Don't dash off a six-thousand-word story before breakfast. Don't write too much. Concentrate your sweat on one story, rather than dissipate it over a dozen. Don't loaf and invite inspiration; light out after it with a club, and if you don't get it you will none the less get something that looks remarkably like it. Set yourself a "stint," [London wrote 1,000 words nearly every day of his adult life] and see that you do that "stint" each day; you will have more words to your credit at the end of the year.

Study the tricks of the writers who have arrived. They have mastered the tools with which you are cutting your fingers. They are doing things, and their work bears the internal evidence of how it is done. Don't wait for some good Samaritan to tell you, but dig it out for yourself.

See that your pores are open and your digestion is good. That is, I am confident, the most important rule of all.

Keep a notebook. Travel with it, eat with it, sleep with it. Slap into it every stray thought that flutters up into your brain. Cheap paper is less perishable than gray matter, and lead pencil markings endure longer than memory.

And work. Spell it in capital letters. WORK. WORK all the time. Find out about this earth, this universe; this force and matter, and the spirit that glimmers up through force and matter from the maggot to Godhead. And by all this I mean WORK for a philosophy of life. It does not hurt how wrong your philosophy of life may ~ Jack London

When I looked at the painting I felt the same convergence on a single point: a glancing sun-struck instance that existed now and forever. Only occasionally did I notice the chain on the finch's ankle, or think what a cruel life for a little living creature
fluttering briefly, forced always to land in the same hopeless place. ~ Donna Tartt

Are you feeling like, leaving own self somewhere behind? Are you requesting time to stop and move backward? Are you looking for the turn which gone behind on your way of life?
Recognize the reality; you are in illusion & living with a disease called False Life Syndrome, driven by false persuasive surrounding & false logics.
If you are in LOVE, than you must needs to be here at NOW and this NOW will be the foundation for next NOW, which you think as future. Be at NOW and experience YOU ARE THE LOVE ITSELF. ~ Ansh - The Mystic Rider

There is a fable in the forest
Whispered by the branches, as they blow.
A tale about the truth of leaving
Things that no longer help you grow.
For on the surface it looks simple,
Like you only need lace your boots,
But there is nothing quite as painful
As untangling your roots.
And proof is found in tree stumps
Of the price some pay to flee,
That they would cut their lives in half
To cut the time before they're free.
Yet from the little left behind
Life has been known to grow again,
For unless you take your roots
A part of you will still remain. ~ Erin Hanson

Back in 1995, Munger had given a talk at Harvard Business School called "The Psychology of Human Misjudgment." If you wanted to predict how people would behave, Munger said, you only had to look at their incentives. FedEx couldn't get its night shift to finish on time; they tried everything to speed it up but nothing worked - until they stopped paying night shift workers by the hour and started to pay them by the shift. Xerox created a new, better machine only to have it sell less well than the inferior older ones - until they figured out the salesmen got a bigger commission for selling the older one. "Well, you can say, 'Everybody knows that,'" said Munger. "I think I've been in the top five percent of my age cohort all my life in understanding the power of incentives, and all my life I've underestimated it. And never a year passes but I get some surprise that pushes my limit a little farther." Munger's ~ Michael Lewis

After the old man came up for air, he said, "C-O-P-D. Never even smoked a day in my life, you believe that? My lawyer thinks some chemical at the foundry did this to me but it's impossible to prove. I don't know what good a settlement would do me anyway. It's not like I can go to Disney World. If I see any money, I'm going to be irresponsible for the first time in my life and blow it all on hookers and coke. ~ Evan Ronan

What you do with your life is ascribing more to what you invest your time in. If you spend a lot of time on your phone, you're ascribing more worship to that. Anything can become, by that definition, some form of idol or deity or ultimate worth in your life. ~ Jon Foreman

This won't come easy to us Catholics. In a way, it's easier to dwell on sin and guilt than it is to dwell on love and forgiveness- especially love and forgiveness for yourself. But that's what's been promised to us, and I for one, will not refuse God's promise of a full, love-filled life. Will you?
- Tyler Bell ~ Sierra Simone

He would learn to accept his defeat gracefully – unlike Gatsby
with the shotgun – and decide to get on with his life. ~ Laura Buzo

What's the Future? It's a blank sheet of paper, and we draw lines on it, but sometimes our hand is held, and the lines we draw aren't the lines we wanted. ~ John Marsden

In his forward to the English edition of Invitation to a Beheading (1959), Nabokov reminds the reader that his novel does not offer 'tout pour tous.' Nothing of the kind. 'It is,' he claims, 'a violin in the void.'

[...]

There was something, both in his fiction and in his life, that we instinctively related to and grasped, the possibility of a boundless freedom when all options are taken away. I think that is what drove me to create the class. My main link with the outside world had been the university, and now that I had severed that link, there on the brink of the void, I could invent the violin or be devoured by the void. ~ Azar Nafisi