Rhyming Poems Quotes

(Poetry) helped me to find a silver lining in even the darkest emotions, experiences, observations and topics; find positivity even in the face of extreme negativity; find strength when I was being forced to feel weak; and find hope that my tomorrows would be brighter. ~ Following Whispers

I am bothered by poems I don't understand. ~ Joyce Rachelle

So what rhyming poems do is they take all these nearby sound curves and remind you that they first existed that way in your brain. Before they meant something specific, they had a shape and a way of being said. And now, yes, gloom and broom are floating fifty miles away from each other in you mind because they refer to different notions, but they're cheek-by-jowl as far as your tongue is concerned. And that's what a poem does. Poems match sounds up the way you matched them when you were a tiny kid, using that detachable front phoneme. ~ Nicholson Baker

A rogue does not laugh in the same way that an honest man does; a hypocrite does not shed the tears of a man of good faith. All falsehood is a mask; and however well made the mask may be, with a little attention we may always succeed in distinguishing it from the true face. ~ Alexandre Dumas

...so i will greet you
in a way
all loved things
are meant to be greeted

with a tear in my heart
and a poem in my eye. ~ Sanober Khan

Some of Mr. Gregory's poems have merely appeared in The New Yorker ; others are New Yorker poems: the inclusive topicality, the informed and casual smartness, the flat fashionable irony, meaningless because it proceeds from a frame of reference whose amorphous superiority is the most definite thing about it they are the trademark not simply of a magazine but of a class. ~ Randall Jarrell

My poems, I think, exist in a state of tension between the love of natural beauty and the fear of natural meaninglessness or absurdity. ~ Hayden Carruth

I write almost everything, actually. Songs, poems, stories. And stories out of every genre, too. ~ Jackie Evancho

Poetry is the insistent roaring of the human soul. ~ Pietros Maneos

I've always felt that the poems I've written which have historical context are hopefully not just simply plucking something out of history and saying great, let's write about that. In every case what has happened is that I've become fascinated or haunted by something and couldn't shake it. ~ Rita Dove

where do all of the sad girls go?

in this world that requires us
to write poems about the people who have their hands
wrapped around our necks for the very people who have
their hands wrapped around our necks to recognize
that they indeed have their hands wrapped around our
necks? ~ Alok Vaid-Menon

My heart is in my/ pocket. It is poems by Pierre Reverdy. ~ Frank O'Hara

I see that you are heartlessly clever.
For you know how to Love,
but not Forever.

You still return to me in flashes,
so strong it clouds my Mind.
The fire has turned to ashes,
and yet, you're not behind. ~ Meraaqi

When I no longer have your heart
I will not request your body
your presence
or even your polite conversation.
I will go away to a far country
separated from you by the sea
- on which I cannot walk -
and refrain even from sending
letters
describing my pain. ~ Alice Walker

While you've been away, I've been copying poems out in a book so that I could whisper them to you as you fell asleep. ~ Paulo Coelho

So you heroically undertook to endure the pains of faithlessness, just to be able to write good poems. But you didn´t realise then that when you lost that voice inside you, you´d end up all alone in an empty universe. ~ Orhan Pamuk

Poetic Terrorism
WEIRD DANCING IN ALL-NIGHT computer-banking lobbies. Unauthorized pyrotechnic displays. Land-art, earth-works as bizarre alien artifacts strewn in State Parks. Burglarize houses but instead of stealing, leave Poetic-Terrorist objects. Kidnap someone & make them happy. Pick someone at random & convince them they're the heir to an enormous, useless & amazing fortune--say 5000 square miles of Antarctica, or an aging circus elephant, or an orphanage in Bombay, or a collection of alchemical mss. ...
Bolt up brass commemorative plaques in places (public or private) where you have experienced a revelation or had a particularly fulfilling sexual experience, etc.
Go naked for a sign.
Organize a strike in your school or workplace on the grounds that it does not satisfy your need for indolence & spiritual beauty.
Graffiti-art loaned some grace to ugly subways & rigid public monuments--PT-art can also be created for public places: poems scrawled in courthouse lavatories, small fetishes abandoned in parks & restaurants, Xerox-art under windshield-wipers of parked cars, Big Character Slogans pasted on playground walls, anonymous letters mailed to random or chosen recipients (mail fraud), pirate radio transmissions, wet cement...
The audience reaction or aesthetic-shock produced by PT ought to be at least as strong as the emotion of terror-- powerful disgust, sexual arousal, superstitious awe, sudden intuitive break ~ Hakim Bey

She asked me why I never came, said she had heard all sorts of stories about me. This was only to gain time. Asked me, was I writing poems? About whom? I asked her. This confused her more and I felt sorry and mean. Turned off that valve at once and opened the spiritual-heroic refrigerating apparatus, invented and patented in all countries by Dante Alighieri ... ~ James Joyce

Poems Should Speak [10w]
Poems should speak to you, for you,
not around you. ~ Beryl Dov

Poetry from the bottom up is an act of selection: you kind of feel your way through the crowds of poems. The good ones came forward a long time ago, and the bad ones fell away. ~ Eileen Myles

My mother married again after my father's death - another Royal Air Force officer, and a very different kind of man. We went to Australia when I was eight or nine. We lived there for a couple of years, and then came back and lived in North Wales for the whole of my teenage years. I learned how to write poems quite a lot. I just had a good time reading and reading and reading. So that's where I did most of my growing up. ~ Philip Pullman

I was born one thousand times and all the while it was you I met again to only meet again under the thousand stars that divide us and connect us. ~ Christina Strigas

I think I've been writing black poems all along, wearing my white mask. I'm always the victim ... but no longer! ~ Anne Sexton

In the moonlight and under the stars
Somehow your face seems clearer
I revere your presence and remember
We are warriors
Thrusted onto this plane
We are strong
We must use our strength
While bearing compassion
It's easy to get lost
This place makes it so easy to get lost
But-
In the moonlight and under the stars
Somehow your presence seems clearer
And I remember
We are warriors ~ Nancy Navene

Poetry consists in a rhyming dictionary and things seen. ~ Gertrude Stein

So, some of the most difficult formal poems that I've written, say one sentence sonnets, I've been able to do those fairly quickly whereas some of the clearest, simplest lyrics that I've written have taken me the longest to get to the clarity of feeling that you're looking for. ~ Edward Hirsch

The Truth the Dead Know


For my Mother, born March 1902, died March 1959
and my Father, born February 1900, died June 1959

Gone, I say and walk from church,
refusing the stiff procession to the grave,
letting the dead ride alone in the hearse.
It is June. I am tired of being brave.

We drive to the Cape. I cultivate
myself where the sun gutters from the sky,
where the sea swings in like an iron gate
and we touch. In another country people die.

My darling, the wind falls in like stones
from the whitehearted water and when we touch
we enter touch entirely. No one's alone.
Men kill for this, or for as much.

And what of the dead? They lie without shoes
in the stone boats. They are more like stone
than the sea would be if it stopped. They refuse
to be blessed, throat, eye and knucklebone.

Anne Sexton was a model who became a confessional poet, writing about intimate aspects of her life, after her doctor suggested that she take up poetry as a form of therapy. She studied under Robert Lowell at Boston University, where Sylvia Plath was one of her classmates. Sexton won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1967, but later committed suicide via carbon monoxide poisoning. Topics she covered in her poems included adultery, masturbation, menstruation, abortion, despair and suicide. ~ Anne Sexton

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 answer trickled through my head like water through a sieve. ~ Lewis Carroll

And I remember this man who never ran out of poems telling me once that "knowing a book by heart is like carrying a house inside your chest. ~ Hisham Matar

I never intended to write poems, nor to be a photographer, nor to be a film-maker. I just took many, many pictures and I would put them in an album, and then some years later I decided to show them and suddenly I was called a photographer. Same thing with my poetry. They're notes that I'd written in a book and it may be considered poetry. ~ Abbas Kiarostami

It was in a stonecutter's house where I went to have a headstone made for Raftery's grave that I found a manuscript book of his poems, written out in the clear beautiful Irish characters. ~ Lady Gregory

I do have a funny perception of mine I'd like to share. Being basically a lifetime poet. I've had many people say "I don't like poetry" But they'll listen to song after song that rhymes on the end in couplets Just a thought ... ~ Stanley Victor Paskavich

The doctors x-rayed my head and found nothing. ~ Dizzy Dean

After the fierce midsummer all ablaze
Has burned itself to ashes, and expires
In the intensity of its own fires,
There come the mellow, mild, St. Martin days
Crowned with the calm of peace, but sad with haze.
So after Love has led us, till he tires
Of his own throes, and torments, and desires,
Comes large-eyed friendship: with a restful gaze,
He beckons us to follow, and across
Cool verdant vales we wander free from care.
Is it a touch of frost lies in the air?
Why are we haunted with a sense of loss?
We do not wish the pain back, or the heat;
And yet, and yet, these days are incomplete. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The more that accrues, the more depth, weight, and breadth we can bring to the poems, which we then need to throw overboard so we don't sink. ~ Dorianne Laux

I write poems about relationships, love relationships, and I'm not able to do that all the time. I could go two years without writing poems, and then write a dozen. Having a novel to work on, with the intricate puzzle of character and plot to work out, is satisfying for the time there is no poetry. ~ May Sarton

I awaken by the heat
emanating from your body.
I wash the grapes
and eat the bad ones
so you don't taste
their bitterness.
You place the bowl
on your stomach
and the cold
makes you squeal.
I smile.
You simper.
That is enough for me.

I come home
and eat my meal
in silence.
I avoid you.
Your hand takes the dish
I just placed in the sink
and washes it.
I rest my head
on the wooden table.
The dish is placed to dry.
There are no footsteps.
Then
a mouth kisses the nape
of my neck.
My head sinks deep into the wood
and my obstinacy drowns.
That is enough for me.

I write because
of you,
about you and
for you.
I will not perish
when you leave
for your existence
is enough for me. ~ Kamand Kojouri

It snowed right before Jack stopped talking to Hazel, fluffy white flakes big enough to show their crystal architecture, like perfect geometric poems. ~ Anne Ursu

I want to hear her laugh.

To watch sunbeams awaken her visage and shine through her eyes. To see the gray clouds of regret that hang heavy over her head rain away to nothing.

I want to hear her sunny voice dance on the breeze, as light and free as glossy bubbles, floating up…up…up to pop like hiccups. I want to know the type and form of key I must cut to unshackle even a portion of her joy.

If I could pluck the winning feather; if my smile could convince; if I could stroke her vocal chords like harp strings and make each treble note ascend to euphoria. Oh, to hear the giggled melody she would release into a world craving the balm of mirth!
I ache to experience that. I am desperate for it.

I live for the day I hear her laugh. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

I don't think that I ever believed that poetry would be a career. I have always thought of poems as something more private than professional ... I would never introduce myself as a poet. I will always have some other thing that I am. ~ Dana Goodyear

after midnight
Just words.
No more pictures. No charts or plays or poems.
Now it's just about the words. ~ Andrew Smith

I began just writing poems and then fell in love with the form. ~ Simone Muench

They are constantly colonists and emigrants ; they have the name of being at home in every country. But they are in exile in their own country. They are torn between love of home and love of
something else; of which the sea may be the explanation or may be only the symbol. It is also found in a nameless nursery rhyme which is the finest line in English literature and the dumb refrain of all English poems, 'Over the hills and far away. ~ G.K. Chesterton