Poets And Poetry Quotes
Quotes tagged as "poets-and-poetry"
Showing 1-30 of 120
“A single poem, alone
can turn tides
scatter galaxies
and burst forth with rivers
from paradise.”
― A Thousand Flamingos
can turn tides
scatter galaxies
and burst forth with rivers
from paradise.”
― A Thousand Flamingos
“The American identity has never been a singular one and the voices of poets invariably sing, in addition to their own, the voices of those around them.”
― The American Poet Who Went Home Again
― The American Poet Who Went Home Again
“In an age when nations and individuals routinely exchange murder for murder, when the healing grace of authentic spirituality is usurped by the divisive politics of religious organizations, and when broken hearts bleed pain in darkness without the relief of compassion, the voice of an exceptional poet producing exceptional work is not something the world can afford to dismiss.”
― The American Poet Who Went Home Again
― The American Poet Who Went Home Again
“The music of revelation announces itself to the reader in somber brooding tones or in melodies light as air and one is invited to dance with the most captivating of partners: poetry.”
― Journey through the Power of the Rainbow: Quotations from a Life Made Out of Poetry
― Journey through the Power of the Rainbow: Quotations from a Life Made Out of Poetry
“The birth of a true poet is neither an insignificant event nor an easy delivery. Complications generally begin long before the fated soul carries its dubious light into whatever womb has been kind enough to volunteer the intricate machinery of its blood and prayers and muscles for a gestation period much longer than nine months or even nine years.”
― The American Poet Who Went Home Again
― The American Poet Who Went Home Again
“And I realized why I have become a poet. It’s because I can feel the pain and love of people. I can feel the innermost feelings of people. The tenderness of hurt souls. And I want to heal the world by my words.”
―
―
“Несовпадение душ неизменное
порождает вопросы пустые,
суету дополняя душевную
объясненьями непростыми...”
― Prikosnovenie Vechnosti
порождает вопросы пустые,
суету дополняя душевную
объясненьями непростыми...”
― Prikosnovenie Vechnosti
“It rises again, the frenzied smoke
as the phoenix rises from the ashes
shadows of dreams on the hills
a melange of memories
She speaks in unheard words
poignant with meanings deep
another bird of silence caws
as the breeze swirls and spins
My grandmother told me stories
about the mountains and the lakes
I saw the rainbows of hope
swaying to the music
as the daffodils of joy to the rain
The opalescent sky looks melancholy
as the clouds of Alzheimer's hover her life
perhaps she has not forgotten everything
I hope the moon tells her about me
I keep searching for my footsteps now
smudged in the sands of time
like the proverbial breeze that drifts
but never gets to stay a while
Gazing at old photographs, I keep
the memories treasured and vaulted
a boulevard of thatched moments
a promenade of myriad stories!”
―
as the phoenix rises from the ashes
shadows of dreams on the hills
a melange of memories
She speaks in unheard words
poignant with meanings deep
another bird of silence caws
as the breeze swirls and spins
My grandmother told me stories
about the mountains and the lakes
I saw the rainbows of hope
swaying to the music
as the daffodils of joy to the rain
The opalescent sky looks melancholy
as the clouds of Alzheimer's hover her life
perhaps she has not forgotten everything
I hope the moon tells her about me
I keep searching for my footsteps now
smudged in the sands of time
like the proverbial breeze that drifts
but never gets to stay a while
Gazing at old photographs, I keep
the memories treasured and vaulted
a boulevard of thatched moments
a promenade of myriad stories!”
―
“When I was studying in 12th/ Intermediate Level in Ravenshaw College, I read the novel "Train to Pakistan" by the great writer Khushwant Singh. I read the struggles and sadness of the people from both sides of the border in the partition that happened in 1947.
I am poet, and I believe in love and peace. We the homo sapiens are capable of great things, but let us not get narrow minded and hate each other. Our world needs more loving hearts.”
―
I am poet, and I believe in love and peace. We the homo sapiens are capable of great things, but let us not get narrow minded and hate each other. Our world needs more loving hearts.”
―
“And I realised why I have become a poet. I can feel the pain and love of people. I can feel the innermost feelings of people. The tenderness of hurt souls. And I want to heal the world by my words.”
―
―
“It’s been a thousand years since I became a poet. I have been in your heart all along this journey.”
―
―
“We became poets
before we learned to walk
Our roots dug deep
with the slight touch of love
Our leaves sprouted after pain.”
―
before we learned to walk
Our roots dug deep
with the slight touch of love
Our leaves sprouted after pain.”
―
“Good poetry isn't born,
When everything makes sense.
Good poetry is born,
When nothing makes sense.”
― Divane Dynamite: Only truth in the cosmos is love
When everything makes sense.
Good poetry is born,
When nothing makes sense.”
― Divane Dynamite: Only truth in the cosmos is love
“They say that love has never been immortal. That it is only the songs, books, and movies which instill this thought in our mind. But tell me then why does my heart yearn to just have a glimpse of you every moment of my life? Why do I see you in every sunrise? Why do I see you in every sunset? Why do I think of you when I walk down the lane of my apartment? Why do I imagine you sitting beside me while riding my bike? Why do I inhale your fragrance around me in my days and in my nights? Why do I keep missing you? Why do I feel restless untill I have spoken to you? Why do I keep thinking about you every night lying there in my bed? Why do I feel incomplete without you in my life? Why do all my memories smell of you?”
―
―
“Don't fall in love with me. I am not one entity. I am a multitude of phantasmagorical entities. I am the poet. I am the writer. I am the wanderer. I am the philosopher. I am the king. I am the beggar. I am the drifter. I am the hunter. I am the creator. I am the creation. I worship my gods - Bukowski, Kafka, Hemingway, Rand & Plath. I listen to my gods - Beethoven, Mozart, & Tchaikovsky! Don't fall in love with me! I am not one entity. I am a multitude of phastamagorical entities.”
―
―
“Un poëte, quoi qu'on en dise, est un ouvrier; il ne faut pas qu'il ait plus d'intelligence qu'un ouvrier, et sache un autre état que le sien sans quoi il le fait mal: je trouve très-parfaitement absurde la manie qu'on a de les guinder sur un socle idéal; -- rien n'est moins idéal qu'un poëte. -- Le poëte est un clavecin et n'est rien de plus. Chaque idée qui passe pose son doigt sur une touche; -- la touche résonne et donne sa note, voilà tout. Personne ne croit qu'un piano soit un musicien: les poëtes sont les pianos de la foule; les uns ont plus d'octaves, les autres moins.”
― Les Grotesques
― Les Grotesques
“You are so beautiful now, I’ll surrender now. I have no more prayers in me, just this loving and bad poetry.”
― Bad Poetry and This Loving
― Bad Poetry and This Loving
“As another year went by
And a new year came to greet us
I got up in the morning to take my class
And in the afternoon, while sauntering down the road
I saw a hairdresser's saloon inviting me in
And so I met the hairdresser
A fine young lad, and I told him to get my hair and beard trimmed if he may please
But for some reason I decided to keep the moustache without any trims
Life makes us poets,
with a love for poetry.”
―
And a new year came to greet us
I got up in the morning to take my class
And in the afternoon, while sauntering down the road
I saw a hairdresser's saloon inviting me in
And so I met the hairdresser
A fine young lad, and I told him to get my hair and beard trimmed if he may please
But for some reason I decided to keep the moustache without any trims
Life makes us poets,
with a love for poetry.”
―
“As another year went by
And a new year came to greet us
I got up in the morning to take my class
And in the afternoon, while sauntering down the road
I saw a hairdresser's place inviting me in
And so I met the hairdresser
A fine young lad, and I told him to get my hair and beard trimmed if he may please
But for some reason I decided to keep the moustache without any trims
Life makes us poets,
with a love for poetry.”
―
And a new year came to greet us
I got up in the morning to take my class
And in the afternoon, while sauntering down the road
I saw a hairdresser's place inviting me in
And so I met the hairdresser
A fine young lad, and I told him to get my hair and beard trimmed if he may please
But for some reason I decided to keep the moustache without any trims
Life makes us poets,
with a love for poetry.”
―
“Poetry has a unique ability to distill complex emotions into a few lines, creating a powerful impact that lingers in the hearts of readers. As a poet, one learns to harness the potency of words, selecting them with precision to convey nuances and evoke empathy.”
―
―
“Someone asked me the other day, do I like to write prose better or poetry? To which I can only say - both are fundamental to my works. In fact, I started out with prose, as you might remember - and my most invigorating ideas came to this world in the form of prose. Along the way, I felt a craving for poetry, so quite on a whim I wrote the first sonnet. Suddenly an entire new horizon opened up to me. Eventually prose and poetry became equally potent carrier of my ideas - they became complimentary to each other - they became supplementary to each other. However, I do admit, as I grow older, I'm getting more and more drawn towards poetry as my primary vessel.”
― Iman Insaniyat, Mazhab Muhabbat: Pani, Agua, Water, It's All One
― Iman Insaniyat, Mazhab Muhabbat: Pani, Agua, Water, It's All One
“The Versed Shapeshifter by Stewart Stafford
The poet casts profundity's light,
On untouched depths of consciousness,
Truffles mined from reality's seam,
Sharpened quills from a full armoury.
Visionary heralds, core journalists,
Healers of the heart's collective scars,
Distilling matured verity from mystic grapes,
Tossing tropes to make their alchemist salad.
Inventors, composers, focusing global eyes,
A seismic shift rebooting sentient bedrock,
Cartographers mapping the human way,
A bard's verbal progeny on boundless legs.
© 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
―
The poet casts profundity's light,
On untouched depths of consciousness,
Truffles mined from reality's seam,
Sharpened quills from a full armoury.
Visionary heralds, core journalists,
Healers of the heart's collective scars,
Distilling matured verity from mystic grapes,
Tossing tropes to make their alchemist salad.
Inventors, composers, focusing global eyes,
A seismic shift rebooting sentient bedrock,
Cartographers mapping the human way,
A bard's verbal progeny on boundless legs.
© 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
―
“Writing was what saved the stutterer. It saved him the trouble of speaking.”
― Stamerenophobia
― Stamerenophobia
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