Wicca Poem Quotes

Oh how the candles will be lit and the wood of worm burn in a fiery dust. For on all Hallow's Eve will the spirits come to play, and only the fruit of thy womb will satisfy their endless roaming. ~ Solange Nicole

A poem without metaphor is a gelding; useless to nightmares. ~ David Joseph Cribbin

I breathe in...
The sights and smells
Of this city
I've come to know...
So well
I gaze...
Across the turquoise ocean
Where the waves
Liberate my spirit...
From its shell

I breathe in...
The brilliant sky line
Where the birds
Emerge shyly
From the dappled sunshine
I breathe in...
The gently...
Blowing winds
That soothe me
Like a mother, around her child

I breathe in...
The sounds of laughter
Pure and pretty
Like the golden-green butterfly
I'm always after
I breathe in...
The closeness,
I have always shared
With people,
Who almost knew me,
Almost cared

I breathe in...
The comfort
Of my home,
The safe walls,
The scents of childhood
On the pillows
I breathe in...the silence
Of my own heart
Aching with tenderness...
With memories..
Of home

I breathe... in...
The fragrance
Of love, and moist sand
The one...
His roses left...
On both my hands
And I just keep on breathing
Every moment
As much as I can
Preserving it, in my body
For the day
It can't

So I breathe in..
Once again..
Feeling life's energy
Fizzing through my cells
Never knowing
What awaits me
Or what's going to happen to me..
Next
Sanober Khan

How can you say you love me
when you've never seen me cry?
when you've never heard the pieces
that keep breaking up inside
Or when the sky is dark and I'm restless in my bed
will you be the one to whisper
that the sun will rise ahead?
You've never seen the battle scars
that lay across my skin
the price I paid for love, and a joy that grew within
Sometimes the weight I carry
isn't always feather light
will you pick it up and stand up straight,
brave against the fight?
There's always room for fun and laughs
and a beauty to keep warm
but I'd never sail away with you
if you can't survive the storm. ~ M.J. Abraham

The poem is a confession of faith. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have experienced healing through other writers' poetry, but there's no way I can sit down to write in the hope a poem will have healing potential. If I do, I'll write a bad poem. ~ Marilyn Hacker

It was Halloween eve,
And I was yearning alone waiting for my soul mate Ethan,
He was expected by now for the celebrations in our bedroom,
We planned for this, many months back, and now I was getting restless,
My dick was erect and making a pole in my boxer - tough to handle 9 inches long of yearning all alone. ~ Delicious David

You rewrote the art in my heart. ~ Timothy Joshua

Very Like a Whale

One thing that literature would be greatly the better for
Would be a more restricted employment by authors of simile and metaphor.
Authors of all races, be they Greeks, Romans, Teutons or Celts,
Can'ts seem just to say that anything is the thing it is but have
to go out
of their way to say that it is like something else.
What foes it mean when we are told
That the Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold?
In the first place, George Gordon Byron had had enough experience
To know that it probably wasn't just one Assyrian, it was a lot
of Assyrians.
However, as too many arguments are apt to induce apoplexy and thus
hinder longevity,
We'll let it pass as one Assyrian for the sake of brevity.
Now then, this particular Assyrian, the one whose cohorts were gleaming
in purple and gold,
Just what does the poet mean when he says he came down like a wolf
on
the fold?
In heaven and earth more than is dreamed of in our philosophy there
are
a great many things,
But i don't imagine that among then there is a wolf with purple
and gold
cohorts or purple and gold anythings.
No, no, Lord Byron, before I'll believe that this Assyrian was actually
like a wolf I must have some kind of proof;
Did he run on all fours and did he have a hairy tail and a big red
mouth and
big white teeth and did he say Woof woof?
Fra ~ Ogden Nash

So there is something perhaps more difficult to conceive of, sometimes born of resignation and sometimes not- a life in which not getting it is the point and not the problem; in which the project is to learn how not to ride the bicycle, how not to understand the poem. Or to put it the other way round, this would be a life in which getting it – the will to get it, the ambition to get it – was the problem; in which wanting to be an accomplice didn't take precedence over making up one's mind. ~ Adam Phillips

as an artist, i do not always enjoy the questions, 'what were you thinking when you wrote this. what was the inspiration behind this.' these questions imply that there is always thought involved in creation. for me it is the exact opposite. creativity is the act of experiencing the unconscious in the conscious. sometimes, i want to say, without sarcasm, 'i do not know what my soul was thinking when i wrote that poem, i was too busy listening. ~ Nayyirah Waheed

From the moment I saw her I knew this one was worth a broken heart. ~ Atticus Poetry

A good poem looks life straight in the face, unflinching, sincere, equal to revelation through loss or gain. ~ David Whyte

He didn't much like reading novels - he preferred history or philosophy - or poetry, although he could read only a little poetry at a time, because when a poem "spoke to him" it was as if a brilliant, agonizing light had been turned upon some tiny, private cell of his soul. ~ Claire Messud

If only you would kiss me.
Press your lips to mine like a searing iron. Wrap me in your arms as if you were a monarch claiming a kingdom. Hold me close until I warm through to the core. Do this, and I promise to melt into you, no longer a cold and frozen figure in your narrowed sight. How devoted I would be if only your lips burned for mine!
If only you would kiss me. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

I ate them like salad, books were my sandwich for lunch, my tiffin and dinner and midnight munch. I tore out the pages, ate them with salt, doused them with relish, gnawed on the bindings, turned the chapters with my tongue! Books by the dozen, the score and the billion. I carried so many home I was hunchbacked for years. Philosophy, art history, politics, social science, the poem, the essay, the grandiose play, you name 'em, I ate 'em. ~ Ray Bradbury

Read your work aloud, if you can, if you aren't too embarrassed by the sound of your voice ringing out when you are alone in a room. Chances are that the sentence you can hardly pronounce without stumbling is a sentence that needs to be reworked to make it smoother and more fluent. A poet once told me that he was reading a draft of a new poem aloud to himself when a thief broke into his Manhattan loft. Instantly surmising that he had entered the dwelling of a madman, the thief turned and ran without taking anything, and without harming the poet. So it maybe that reading your work aloud will not only improve its quality but save your life in the process. ~ Francine Prose

From I Knew a Woman
I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,
When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;
Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:
The shapes a bright container can contain! ~ Theodore Roethke

Writing or making anything-a poem, a bird feeder, a chocolate cake-has self-respect in it. You're working. You're trying. You're not lying down on the ground, having given up. ~ Sharon Olds

A successful poem says what a poet wants to say, and more, with particular finality. The remarks he makes about his poems are incidental when the poem is good, or embarrassing or absurd when it is bad and he is not permitted to say how the good poem is good, and may never know how the bad poem is bad. It is better to write about other people's poetry. ~ Randall Jarrell

But what I love is the end of your poem, when the urn talks to us. It says this: 'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,--- that is all / ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.' I keep trying to figure out exactly what you mean, but that sentence is like a circle. If beauty is truth, and if truth is beauty, they are defined by each other, so how do we know the meaning of either? I think that we make our own meanings, by putting ourselves into them. ~ Ava Dellaira

We took Beowulf, the epic poem in Old English, and put it right together with John Gardner's contemporary retelling. If you bring it into today, we really feel that it has something very fresh to say now. ~ Julie Taymor

Inferno is the underworld as described in Dante Alighieri's epic poem The Divine Comedy, which portrays hell as an elaborately structured realm populated by entities known as "shades" - bodiless souls trapped between life and death. ~ Dan Brown

A statute is written to entrap meaning, a poem to escape it. ~ Hilary Mantel

Poetry feels like a country I visit without a passport, where I look around furtively, grab hold of something precious, and try to smuggle it back across the border. Any poem I get written down feels like contraband to me. ~ Barbara Kingsolver

The poem is a capsule where we wrap up our punishable secrets. ~ William Carlos Williams

He says nothing yet
How do I understand everything

Why does my soul vent out the anger
At someone my heart adores

Why do his words go straight
To my heart and
Deep into the soul

Why does the time fail
In telling the truth ~ Jyoti Patel

A trick I often use, when I feel overwhelming shame or regret, or brokenness beyond repair, is to think of a line I especially love, or a poem that arrived like lightning, and remember that it wouldn't have come to me if anything in my life had happened differently. Not that way. Not in those words. ~ Patricia Lockwood

I published my first poem in 'The Paris Review' in 1980. ~ Siri Hustvedt

These are the saddest of possible words, Tinker-to-Evers-to-Chance. Trio of Bear Cubs fleeter than birds, Tinker-to-Evers-to-Chance. Ruthlessly pricking our gonfalon bubble, Making a Giant hit into a double, Words that are weighty with nothing but trouble, Tinker-to-Evers-to-Chance. This brief poem, immortalized the Chicago Cubs' double-play combination: Shortstop Joe Tinker, second baseman Johnny Evers, and first baseman Frank Chance. ~ Franklin P. Adams

The true poem rests between the words. ~ Vanna Bonta

Already the ripening barberries are red
And the old asters hardly breathe in their beds.
The man who is not rich now as summer goes
Will wait and wait and never be himself.

The man who cannot quietly close his eyes
certain that there is vision after vision inside,
simply waiting for nighttime
to rise all around him in darkness-
it's all over for him, he's like an old man.

Nothing else will come; no more days will open
and everything that does happen will cheat him.
Even you, my God. And you are like a stone
that draws him daily deeper into the depths. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

A book, a poem, a play - they start as fantasms but they end up as things, like a box of crackers or an automobile tire. ~ Arthur Miller

Many people say that I don't know how to draw because I don't draw particular forms. When will they understand that execution, drawing and color (in other words, style) must be in harmony with the poem? ~ Paul Gauguin

Being an American in Australia isn't easy,
but I'm trying to integrate, I'm trying to fit in. ~ Billy Marshall Stoneking

One of the things I'm constantly telling my students is that they're never going to write a poem everyone gets, or if they do, they've failed. They should leave someone behind every time. ~ Rigoberto Gonzalez

That's what I want, that kind of recklessness where the poem is even ahead of you. It's like riding a horse that's a little too wild for you, so there's this tension between what you can do and what the horse decides it's going to do. ~ Li-Young Lee

After listing the vast array of famous composers, artists, and authors who had created works based on Dante's epic poem, Langdon scanned the crowd. "So tell me, do we have any authors here tonight?" Nearly one-third of the hands went up. Langdon stared out in shock. Wow, either this is the most accomplished audience on earth, or this e-publishing thing is really taking off. ~ Dan Brown

FRANK: Do you know Yeats?
RITA: The wine lodge?
FRANK: No, WB Yeats, the poet.
RITA: No.
FRANK: Well, in his poem 'The Wild Swans At Coole',Yeats rhymes the word "swan" with the word "stone". You see? That's an example of assonance.
RITA: Yeah, means getting the rhyme wrong. ~ Willy Russell

Stop the tape, cut the paper! I will just write another poem and grab a microphone and push record again! ~ Delano Johnson

I can't remember the poem
That pierced through my heart
It was the saddest I heard
Of all truths ever spoken
It left a scar in me
A wound that doesn't heal
But the words are forgotten
So is a big part of me ~ A.A. Patawaran

I should think that many of our poets, the honest ones, will confess to having no manifesto. It is a painful confession but the art of poetry carries its own powers without having to break them down into critical listings. I do not mean that poetry should be raffish and irresponsible clown tossing off words into the void. But the very feeling of a good poem carries its own reason for being ... Art is its own excuse, and it's either Art or it's something else. It's either a poem or a piece of cheese. ~ Charles Bukowski

You want to know, companions of my youth,
How much has changed the wild but shy young poet
Forever writing last poem after last poem;
You hear he's dark as earth, barefoot,
A turban round his head, a bolo at his side,
His ballpen blown up to a long-barreled gun:
Deeper still the struggling change inside. ~ Emmanuel F. Lacaba

One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words. ~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Oh sun! Fervid sun!
You welcome me with summer.
Drench me in your rays. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

They say that Grandma Moses had several canvases going at the same time. Maybe it was a way for her to catch up with the time she missed while raising children and tending the farm. Like Grandma, I tend to have more than one poem or fiction going at a time. For me, it's just the way I think. ~ Marge Simon

trying to translate
into a language that's known
a poem writ
in the language of stone ~ Kenneth White

anyhow, I'm now using the knife the reader sent me to clean my fingernails.
better this than ripping it deep into somebody's guts.
I prefer to do that with the poem. ~ Charles Bukowski

And me happiest when I compose poems:
Love, power, the huzza of battle
are something, are much:
yet a poem includes them like a pool
water and reflection. ~ Irving Layton