Quotes About Pros Poetry
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I guess this is a prayer to the unsettled arc of mortality, the hoist and shuffle of this uncertain moment, our lives like bulbs flaring and going out as the city's seven million souls--ah, but that's another argument--click out their bedside lamps and curl toward whatever approximation of warmth they have found, while the music plays on in the streets below, the neon humming, the ambulances wailing the sudden shocked song of the living. ~ Jon Davis
kisses explode
when...
someone
believes in me
when my heart cries out
a song of thanks
to yours. ~ Sanober Khan
If you are a dreamer come in
If you are a dreamer a wisher a liar
A hoper a pray-er a magic-bean-buyer
If youre a pretender com sit by my fire
For we have some flax golden tales to spin
Come in!
Come in! ~ Shel Silverstein
And, of course, that is what all of this is - all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs - that song, endlesly reincarnated - born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 - same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness. ~ Nick Tosches
I like this place and could willingly waste my time in it. ~ William Shakespeare
Be Visionary ... ~ R.M. Engelhardt
The only people who have trouble with poetry are the people who link it with literature. It's much more akin to mountain-walking, and dancing by yourself at 2 A.M. ~ Theo Dorgan
Carpe Diem
By Edna Stewart
Shakespeare, Robert Frost, Walt Whitman did it, why can't I?
The words of Horace, his laconic phrase. Does it amuse me or frighten me?
Does it rub salt in an old wound? Horace, Shakespeare, Robert Frost and Walt Whitman my loves,
we've all had a taste of the devils carpe of forbidden food.
My belly is full of mourning over life mishaps of should have's, missed pleasure, and why was I ever born?
The leaf falls from the trees from which it was born in and cascade down like a feather that tumbles and toil in the wind.
One gush! It blows away. It's trampled, raked, burned and finally turns to ashes which fades away like the leaves of grass.
Did Horace get it right? Trust in nothing?
The shortness of Life is seventy years, Robert Frost and Whitman bared more, but Shakespeare did not.
Butterflies of Curiosities allures me more.
Man is mortal, the fruit is ripe. Seize more my darling!
Enjoy the day. ~ Edna Stewart
I use rock and jazz and blues rhythms because I love that music. I hope my poetry has a relationship with good-time rock'n roll. ~ Adrian Mitchell
Let no-one say the past is dead, the past is all about us and within. ~ Oodgeroo Noonuccal
You will fall with me as a stone in the grave ~ Pablo Neruda
Reading someone's poetry is like seeing them naked" -Davis Pritchett ~ John Green
There is a Day
There's always a day
when I can't believe what was there.
There's always that day
when I didn't understand how to bear.
There's never a day
where I stood in the crowd.
There's never that day
where I knew He was Proud.
There is a day
where I can be alone.
There is that day
where I shall make it known. ~ Isabel Aanya Leigh
and a day spent working for money is wasted while a day spent writing poetry is wasted but more honest. ~ Tim Lane
words
like mysterious mermaids
come and live permanently
in the soft sweeps
and scars of my skin. ~ Sanober Khan
THE PRESOCRATIC PROBLEM
[all snap flags]
Parmenides named his gun The Hot Power of the Stars. His gun was one, uncreated, imperishable, timeless, changeless, perfect, spherical. Spherical was the problem. ~ Anne Carson
My mind is an instrument of peace
I am the peace
My heart sing the song of peace
My mind dances with peace
I laugh with peace
My soul is longing for peace
My spirit is the source of peace. ~ Debasish Mridha
Poetry had far better imply things than preach them directly ... in the open pulpit her voice grows hoarse and fails. ~ F.L. Lucas
Envy won't make you a better poet. ~ Katerina Stoykova Klemer
The war at Troy seemed to grow in song, poetry, and story all the while. As it faded from living memory, it grew larger and larger. Men claimed descent from one or the other of the heroes, or, failing that, anyone who had fought in the war, which now assumed the stature of a clash between the gods and the titans. ~ Margaret George
. . .poetry by Eliot. There's a lulling thing in his voice that makes me feel as if a spell has been cast that shall wake us all so that we might fly out of the mirror and speak to each other clearly at last. ~ Louisa Hall
Today is Sunday
It will be Sunday forever
Black birds fly over
In this one instance
May we never recover
From this one new something
We are just starting to discover ~ Lourd Ernest H. De Veyra
If perfection is absurd, why is tragedy common? ~ John Most
Wine so delicately
pulls from us
all the stories
we hadn't planned to tell. ~ Atticus Poetry
Love starts as a feeling,
But to continue is a choice;
And I find myself choosing you
More and more every day. ~ Justin Wetch
Her belly ruptures full of parasites,
Her eyes sink back in her skull
Her butchered wrists, dangle
From the edge of the bathtub
Her children cuddle against her Desperate for love she cannot give ~ Wrath James White
The world is a fairy tale; we are its guardians. ~ Dejan Stojanovic
When I stand strong in you
I can look beyond the clouds
With your words
The sun will rise again ~ April Nichole
a single poem
the thing that can keep me
light on my feet,
when my soul is
heavy with sorrow. ~ Sanober Khan
The poetry of Walt Whitman. I can return again and again to these magnificent poems and still get pleasure from reading them. ~ Robert Littell
Our
songs
live
longer
than
our
kingdoms. ~ Atticus Poetry
I play with the fire of my own truth," she told me, "I will burn for the things I love. ~ Mia Hollow
Eggshells become hard to break after walking on them for so long. ~ Mia Castile
Everywhere the poems open. ~ Mary Kinzie
There is all the poetry in the world in a name. It is a poem which the mass of men hear and read. What is poetry in the common sense, but a hearing of such jingling names? I want nothing better than a good word. The name of a thing may easily be more than the thing itself to me. ~ Henry David Thoreau
In reading, in literature and poetry, I found an artistic freedom that I didn't see at Woolworth's. I would read everything from Shakespeare to science fiction ... sometimes a book a day. ~ Frederick Lenz
Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances!
Honored and blessed be the ever-green Pine!
Long may the tree, in his banner that glances,
Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line!
Heaven send it happy dew,
Earth lend it sap anew,
Gayly to bourgeon and broadly to grow,
While every Highland glen
Sends our shout back again,
'Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe! ~ Walter Scott
Sometimes poetry
words
give us a small, lovely look at ourselves. And sometimes that is enough. ~ Patricia MacLachlan
Break my heart and you will find yourself inside. ~ Atticus Poetry
Dance with me.
Bring my demons
to their knees. ~ Nicole Lyons
HEADMASTER: I was a geographer. I went to Hull.
IRWIN: Oh. Larkin.
HEADMASTER: Everybody says that. 'Hull? Oh, Larkin.' I don't know about the poetry ... as I say, I was a geographer ... but as a librarian he was pitiless. The Himmler of the Accessions Desk. And now, we're told, women in droves.
Art. They get away with murder. ~ Alan Bennett
Our love was born
outside the walls,
in the wind,
in the night,
in the earth,
and that's why the clay and the flower,
the mud and the roots
know your name. ~ Pablo Neruda
Just like the flowers, Who have forgotten autumn and winter, Oh my friend from past seven seasons, Have you forgotten me, Like the many names in your life? Or are you busy loving yourself, Trapped in your own enchantment are you? ~ Piyush Rohankar
That night I looked Stephanie [Burt] up online and started reading more about her work...I kept encountering a striking factoid...: she's often cited as the most influential poetry critic of her generation. And she's openly trans. This is not the world I was taught I would grow into when I was a young trans child -- the one where transgender people are heard, are brilliant, are influential, are even the best. At anything. Being trans, I'd learned subliminally, was supposed to keep you from being that -- even if you loved your trans self, and even if some other trans people and a few allies did too, the world at large would keep your potential tamped down."
- from "Surface Difficulty: An Adventure in Reading Trans Poetry," Original Plumbing Magazine 2014 ~ Mitch Kellaway
a flower knows, when its butterfly will return,
and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand;
but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon,
when I don't know, if you will ever come back. ~ Sanober Khan
It was true. After our divorce, I'd ended up in a slight relationship with my last research assistant, Aurelia Feinstein, age 34-though let me state for the record it was not as hot as it sounded. Making love to Aurelia was like rummaging through a card catalog in a deserted library, searching for one very obscure little red entry on Hungarian poetry. It was dead silent, no one gave me any dierection, and nothing was where it was supposed to be. ~ Marisha Pessl
I've got mixed feelings about poetry cause done well poetry is fantastic. But not many people are capable of doing it well. I think you should have some kind of license to perform poetry. A poetic license perhaps. ~ Craig Ferguson