Quotes About Poetry Quarterly
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Her touch is like doing simple math
When she sleeps in the bed, subtracting clothes
There is a red ink, like a sparkling red wine, adding colors
Dividing body, remembering gods, without multiplying ~ Santosh Kalwar
If Thou Must Love Me
If thou must love me, let it be for naught
Except for love's sake only. Do not say,
'I love her for her smile - her look - her way
Of speaking gently, - for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day' -
For these things in themselves, Belovèd, may
Be changed, or change for thee - and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry:
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity. ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning
When the others were picked up and walked home by friends or fathers or best friend's sisters,
I was the kid in a grey hoodie, walking with the poets, the singers, the thinkers, and I was not alone. ~ Charlotte Eriksson
Embrace your inner goddess, never let go of the light you carry within. ~ Cynthia Dougherty-Bernal
Poetry must have something in it that is barbaric, vast and wild. ~ Denis Diderot
Oh the stellar sensation,
Oh the cosmic elevation;
Time is sober in death,
For the wine of love;
Is the blue life of the earth. ~ Stephan Attia
For the Wife Beater's Wife
With blue irises her face is blossomed. Blue
Circling to yellow, circling to brown on her cheeks.
The long bone of her jaw untracked
She hides in our kitchen.
He sleeps it off next door.
Her chicken legs tucked under her
She's frantic with lies, animated
Before the swirling smoke.
On her cigarette she leaves red prints, red
Like a cut on the white cup.
Like a skin she pulls her sweater around her.
She's cold,
She brings the cold in with her.
In our kitchen she hides.
He sleeps it off next door, his great
Belly heaving with booze.
Again and again she tells the story
As if the details ever changed,
As if blows to the face were somehow
Different beating to beating.
We reach for her but can't help.
She retreats into her cold love of him
And looks across the table at us
As if across a sea.
Next door he claws out of sleep.
She says she thinks she'll do something
After all, with her hair tonight. ~ Bruce Weigl
my mother gave me islam.
my father gave me the god of absence.
and here i am.
a religion made of myself. ~ Nayyirah Waheed
The genesis of a poem for me is usually a cluster of words. The only good metaphor I can think of is a scientific one: dipping a thread into a supersaturated solution to induce crystal formation. I don't think I solve problems in my poetry; I think I uncover the problems. ~ Margaret Atwood
Your eyes are an Ocean! ~ Avijeet Das
True poetry is the perception of human feelings, the voice of the heart, open or hidden. It is the lyrics, compositions, and melody of the relation between humankind, the universe and God, a shadow pinpointing each of the truths we can discern everywhere (from the earth to the stars), a photograph of the creation's projection cast in our feelings and thoughts and framed through words, a heartfelt tune of our loves and joys played on different strings, and it is a bouquet of our faith, hope, determination, beauty, love, reunion, and yearnings. ~ M. Fethullah Gulen
One of the reasons poetry is such an amazing genre to work with is because it constantly reinvents itself and re-negotiates its terms with the reader. ~ Cate Marvin
The words that I want to utter
Stuck in the pit of my throat
Is love written in my destiny or
Can someone write it for me
I question myself
Can you see
the wound of my bleeding heart
and the hint of pain on my face
Is love written in my destiny or
Can someone write it for me
I question myself ~ Jyoti Patel
They are treading water in a sea of retarded sexuality and bad poetry. ~ Karl French
I have nothing to say
and I am saying it
and that is poetry
as I need it. ~ John Cage
Many amateurs believe that plants and animals reproduce on a one-way route toward perfection. Translating the idea in social terms, they believe that companies and organizations are, thanks to competition (and the discipline of the quarterly report), irreversibly heading toward betterment. The strongest will survive; the weakest will become extinct. As to investors and traders, they believe that by letting them compete, the best will prosper and the worst will go learn a new craft (like pumping gas or, sometimes, dentistry). Things are not as simple as that. We will ignore the basic misuse of Darwinian ideas in the fact that organizations do not reproduce like living members of nature - Darwinian ideas are about reproductive fitness, not about survival. ~ Nassim Nicholas Taleb
...Both a baby and a poem masquerade as something we've created, when we know that they arrive from somewhere beyond us, that they are gifts. ~ Beth Ann Fennelly
Keats writes about the tendency of poets to annihilate their own identities by the chameleon-like absorption of other, more 'poetic' identities. Emily Dickinson delights in the meeting of another Nobody: 'I'm Nobody! Who are you? / Are You - Nobody - Too?' Walt Whitman asks - and answers - with self-assurance, 'Do I contradict myself? / Very well then I contradict myself, / (I am large, I contain multitudes.)' T. S. Eliot sees poetry as 'an escape from personality.' Faulkner wishes for a 'markless' life that could be summarized in one sentence, 'He made his books and died. ~ Katia Mitova
Lapped in poetry, wrapped in the picturesque, armed with logical sentences and inalienable words. ~ Anatole Broyard
sometimes i don't know, which moment
which cool gust of wind will come,
and enchant me
tousling my hair
and my heart,
stirring...that familiar ache of poetry,
which drop will kiss
the old wrench in my soul
reminding me, all over again
i miss you better in the rain. ~ Sanober Khan
As he took her hand
he gave her
all she had been
waiting for--
a shiver
down her spine. ~ Atticus Poetry
Separation
Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color. ~ W.S. Merwin
Everyone thinks they're going to write one book of poems or one novel. ~ Marilyn Hacker
It was actually a women's writing group I belonged to in graduate school that gave me the courage to move from poetry to fiction. ~ Mary Gordon
It is the age of numbers, isn't it? So we are numbers and the Elbees are words. We are mathemathics and they are poetry. We are winning and they are losing; and so of course they're afraid of us, it's like a struggle inside human nature itself, between what's mechanical and utilitarian in us and the part that loves and dreams. We all fear that the cold machine-like thing in human nature will destroy our magic and song. ~ Salman Rushdie
An individual's torments only have meaning within his or her personal experience. Faced with the collective we are as naked and helpless as the day we were born. Our individual development depends on realizing that others cannot understand our experience. Sometimes the obstacles we meet tempt us to place our destiny in the hands of another. But we cannot live by proxy, we must take everything on our own shoulders. Then we know we are alone. We must allow this sensation to fill our being and live like abandoned children because only thus is our life in our own hands. From time to time a mirage will surface of some way of life that will free us from the feeling of abandonment; but a mirage is exactly what it will remain.
We can of course live solely within the collective, with the illusion of speaking a common language and of not being alone, but this deception can cost our lives. If we act according to the general rule, we are following a code that is not our own. Everyone must find his or her own tune, accepting the resulting abandonment by those who continue singing in concert. Great artists create modes of expression that are uniquely their own: they enter so deeply into their sense of life that preexisting modes no longer serve their purpose. They invent new ways of writing poetry, of painting and making music. ~ Aldo Carotenuto
I think there was a revolution in poetry, associated chiefly with Eliot and Pound; but maybe it is of the nature of revolutions or of the nature of history that their innovations should later come to look trivial or indistinguishable from technical tricks. ~ Howard Nemerov
Let This Darkness Be a Bell Tower
Quiet friend who has come so far,
feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. As you ring,
what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.
In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.
And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke
No one can usurp the heights ...
But those to whom the miseries of the world
Are misery, and will not let them rest. ~ John Keats
I keep breaking things, as if to see what's going on inside of me. ~ Jenim Dibie
Not everything can be felt and not everything will be ever understood. ~ Santosh Kalwar
Sister,
if he
wants to touch
that beautiful and rare diamond
between your legs,
if he
wants to slip into
that honey they swarm around,
always hungry, always go,
then he
will take it however you
give it to him.
And if you want to give it to him hairy,
that's how he's going to fucking take it.
- Stop trying so hard. Find your own beautiful. ~ Vironika Tugaleva
I've been working on the same joke for years. The punchline is you were happy all along. ~ Hala Alyan