Poetry Your Laughter Quotes

Your laughter is like cool water to me," I said. I felt my heart sob at these strange words, and it would not have been hard to summon tears: Strange. " "You are so serious all of a sudden," she told me. "I am not any one thing," I said. (137) ~ Patrick DeWitt

He was saved from having to reply by Philippa, turning to face them. "What on earth? Do you see this?"
He had not been paying attention, but Olivia was now alternately pantomiming cracking a whip, and screwing up her face, eyes tightly closed, teeth bared, with her fingers splayed out at either edge of her mouth.
"Driving a squid! Whipping the sunshine!" the marchioness called out, pride in her tone, drawing laughter from the rest of the room.
"Driving a Squid is a play I would dearly love to read," Philippa said on a giggle, turning back to Penelope. "Penny, really. We could use your help. ~ Sarah MacLean

Life is the season for loving and caring,
for laughing and caroling, giving and sharing.

Christmas is meant for the same, people say,
which makes life like Christmastime every day. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

We look at your eyes. The eyes carry the wounds. The eyes know damage. Damaged people recognize other damaged people, and we let you in. We are kindred. - Broken Places ~ Rachel Thompson

The first time I saw your face, my lips said, "hello" and my heart said, "that's your wife. ~ J.A. ANUM

Bubbles of laughter escape from Addie as she clutches her stomach and points her finger at me.
You should see yourself! I swear I can see your back arching like a cats. I'm surprised you didn't start hissing. ~ Brandy Nacole

Laughter sets your entire soul ablaze with happy endorphins and shifts your vibrations. ~ Sanjo Jendayi

Sir, I admit your general rule, That every poet is a fool, But you yourself may serve to show it, That every fool is not a poet. ~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge

I am a seed incapable of growth I can't write you any poetry
I can't apologise eloquently, I can't show you your beauty. I can't be lovely to be around. ~ Abeer Abdullah

I've always felt that poetry was particularly erotic, more than prose was ... I say that you read poems not with your eyes and not with your ears, but with your mouth. You taste it. ~ Donald Hall

I said
"I love you so much it's killing me"
and you kept saying sorry
so I stopped explaining
for it never made sense to you
what always did to me
to let what you love
kill you
and never regret.
As Romeo is dying Juliet says
"I am willing to die to remain by your side"
and love was never a static place of rest
but the last second of euphoria
while throwing yourself out from a 20 store window
to be able to say
"I flew before I hit the ground",
and it was glorious.
Don't be sorry.
The fall was beautiful, dear.
The crash was beautiful. ~ Charlotte Eriksson

Poetry Is The Language Of Mysticism &
Discourse. It Is The Whisper In The Dark,
The Shadow In The Light. Poetry Is An Incantation From The Depths Of Your Very Soul. ~ R.M. Engelhardt

I remember holding you against the sink,
with the sun soaking the window, the soft call
of your hips, and the intricate flickers
of thought chiming your eyes. Your mouth,
like a Saturday. ~ Tim Seibles

Touch my song with your lips, make it immortal,
be my beloved, make my love immortal.
No restriction of age, not the bond of lives,
when someone love should see only the soul,
by carving new trend, make the trend immortal.
Loneliness of the sky is in my lone heart,
with rattleing paayal enter into my life,
by giving own breaths make the music immortal
make the music immortal, make my song immortal.
World snatched from me, whatever was beloved to me,
all won from me, I lost at every moment,
by losing your heart you make my victory immortal.
written By Honthon Se Chhoo Lo Tum - Jagjit Singh ~ Nirav Sanchaniya

Let not the weight of a thousand years, Stain your marbled skin I pray, And let not the weight of words ever hurt, Your delicate wine bled lips. Wear that hallowed smile as your eternal crown, And let it graze and let it flourish, Let it heal my desolate heart morose, Come and baptize all of what is left of me, Before I wear the silence in black and white… ~ Piyush Rohankar

It is you who are unpoetical," replied the poet Syme. "If what you say of clerks is true, they can only be as prosaic as your poetry. The rare, strange thing is to hit the mark; the gross, obvious thing is to miss it. We feel it is epical when man with one wild arrow strikes a distant bird. Is it not also epical when man with one wild engine strikes a distant station? Chaos is dull; because in chaos the train might indeed go anywhere, to Baker Street or to Bagdad. But man is a magician, and his whole magic is in this, that he does say Victoria, and lo! it is Victoria. No, take your books of mere poetry and prose; let me read a time table, with tears of pride. Take your Byron, who commemorates the defeats of man; give me Bradshaw, who commemorates his victories. Give me Bradshaw, I say! ~ G.K. Chesterton

It was a vision of the one thing that we both hoped someday would be...the warmth of our bodies next to each other's, reflected in sunset of our secret place... We longed for it to be like this, each and every evening... Dancing in the night, playing hide-and-seek in the day, the beauty of our souls blossoms... Never before had we felt so happy, never before had we felt so alive... We hear the birds, sensing the cheerful breeze, the rainbow's end does linger here....our tenderness, sighs and spirits speak and we do know clear... This place is where love and laughter meet... You take my hand, kiss each finger tip, with tears in your eyes you touch my cheek and whisper of how wondrous this, we share our love once again. The love that gives us wings to fly anew. Our hearts in sweet pleasing pain beat as one in the rhythm of long forgotten yet melody... Together again at this wondrous place, where just our presence adds more grace and makes it what was meant to be - a place for you a place for me... ~ Oksana Rus

Another lover hits the universe. The circle is broken. But with death comes rebirth. And like all lovers and sad people, I am a poet. ~ Allen Ginsberg

I am filled with the thought that there's nothing more thrilling than all those things in your future, waiting to be known. ~ Cath Crowley

We know there exists a planet with four thousand different versions of songbirds. Because that is possible and because on that same planet can exist sentient beings made up almost entirely of stardust, and because bonafide poetry erupts mightily from some of those beings, and there is music, sex, and babies that laugh in their sleep; because we are roaming a universe that may be a hologram, with another dimension consecutively projecting itself outside this construct of reality and gravity; because of all that, there is no reason why my prayers shouldn't be able to reach your mother whose name I don't even know. ~ Mary-Louise Parker

I'm only the instrument through which one particular art is expressed. Poetry flows through me but it originates in the wellspring of creation that is the source of us all. When you strike out at someone else's achievement you are attacking your own share of a great gift. ~ Morgan Llywelyn

Because no one can make another person happy," said George. "He was happy when he was with me, but otherwise he wasn't. That's not enough. I mean, in a relationship, you have your ups and downs, sure, and you help each other through, but if a person is genuinely unhappy, it won't work. No amount of love or laughter from the other person can fix that. Each person has to love and laugh on their own. They need to feel it for real, deep down, in here. ~ Anonymous

Addiction is like swimming in an ocean for a very long time...drowning really, ready to give in. You're so tired, but you keep swimming, and then you start REALLY drowning. It's like trying to gasp for a breath, one tiny inhalation to keep going, and you get the one breath, but you are near death, suffocation, and each time you still manage to get one small breath in to keep going. Until, finally either you break free, you swim away from that magnificent grip, that monster lurking that keeps pushing your head under, or you have drowned. You died. It's that simple. ~ Nicole DSettemi

I heard the breeze whisper your name to the trees. And the flowers giggled smiling at the leaves. I and my loneliness keep talking about you. ~ Avijeet Das

you are a lover of the words
a soul mate to the story
everything becomes a part of you
from my fingertips to your eyes
from my heart to yours ~ Amanda Linsmeier

A thousand lips, a thousand eyes,
a thousand hearts will read these words,
as you read them, graze them, this moment.

Thousands will utter them into the abyss, someday, perhaps for years to come; loudly, softly,
repeatedly, again and again and again.
Some will mock, some will laugh. Some
will shed a tear.

But it is written
only for your lips, your eyes, your heart,
beloved. ~ V.S.Atbay

As long as I can hear the sweet melody of your words,
I need not;
The angel's secret, to be whispered in my ears

As long as I can lace your silky fingers round my own,
I need not;
Pretty diamonds, nor big cash nor gold

As long as I can watch the handsome sunshine of your face,
I need not;
Open skies, nor snowfall, nor the rain

As long as I can gaze into the emeralds of your eyes,
I need not;
New colors, new wings or paradise

As long as I can feel the tender tickle of your breath,
I need not;
The drifting wind, nor its call, nor caress

As long as I can feel your soft lips upon mine,
I need not;
Melted sugar, nor the most expensive of wines

As long as I can feel your warm body close to me
I need not;
A blanket, nor a bonfire's luxury

As long as I can see you every morning I wake,
I need not;
A mirror, nor a cloud, nor shade

As long as I can keep you in every petal of memories
I need not:
Dreams, nor desires, nor fantasies

And as long as I can hold you in every moment that I breathe,
I need not;
Oxygen, nor blood, nor heartbeats. ~ Sanober Khan

THE THREE LAWS OF ALL

You are never to worship a living soul,
Except for three entities:
Three - YOUR FATHER
Two - YOUR MOTHER
And one - HE WHO IS ALL.


To begin to study All Things,
You must start with only three things:
Man,
Nature,
And the universe.
All three are a reflection of each other.
So simply study one,
To understand the other.

All of creation started with JUST three things,
And no living thing was created without them:
Water,
Light,
And dust.

Know these three basic laws.
And you will come to know
He Who Is All.
Forever big, yet sometimes small,
He is found in the heart
Of everything.


Suzy Kassem Poetry, Truth is Crying ~ Suzy Kassem

When I was younger, I was told that there is too much inside me. That I have feelings where others have bone. At the age of seven, a doctor tapped inside my head and asked, "Do you choke on memories from time to time? Do you cry for no good reason at all? Do words take a hammer to your head and crack your skull?" Yes, yes, yes, I nodded. "Then you've definitely got them," he said, as he checked off a box on his list. "Too many feelings. What a shame. Try not to keep them inside or you'll drown. ~ Lora Mathis

She thumped her weapon (others might call it a cane, but he
knew better) against the floor. "Fell off your horse?"
"No, I - "
"Tripped down the stairs? Dropped a bottle on your foot?" Her
expression grew sly. "Or does it involve a woman?"
He fought the urge to cross his arms. She was looking up at him
with a bit of a smirk. She liked poking fun at her companions; she'd
once told him that the best part of growing old was that she could
say anything she wanted with impunity.
He leaned down and said with great gravity, "Actually, I was
stabbed by my valet."
It was, perhaps, the only time in his life he'd managed to stun
her into silence.
Her mouth fell open, her eyes grew wide, and he would have
liked to have thought that she even went pale, but her skin had such
an odd tone to begin with that it was hard to say. Then, after a
moment of shock, she let out a bark of laughter and said, "No,
really. What happened?"
"Exactly as I said. I was stabbed." He waited a moment, then
added, "If we weren't in the middle of a ballroom, I'd show you."
"You don't say?" Now she was really interested. She leaned in,
eyes alight with macabre curiosity. "Is it gruesome?"
"It was," he confirmed.
She pressed her lips together, and her eyes narrowed as she
asked, "And where is your valet now?"
"At Chatteris House, likely nicking a glass of my best brandy."
She let out anoth ~ Julia Quinn