Yes You Are!Like the Blossoming rose,Like the Rays of hope.Like a deer in the forest,Like an athlete full of zest.Like a lamp in temple,Like the life feeling ample.Like the feel of the dawn,Like the grace...

Don’t be afraid of poetry.

I lose faith in mathematics, logical and rigid. What with those that even zero doesn’t accept?

You can save many lives but the most courageous act is to save your authentic-self.

Sarei forse più solasenza la mia solitudine.Sono abituata al mio destino.

They were full of mysteries and secrets, like… like poems turned into landscapes.””‘Poems turned into landscapes.'” he murmured with a slight smile. “And what of Vestenveld’s gardens? Do you see poems in them?””Your gardens are...

Trying to build myself up with the fact that I have done things right that were even good and have had moments that were excellent but the bad is heavier to carry around and feel...

In that wounded place,buried betweenmy ribs and letting go,I miss you.

Cold summer nightThe night is silenceBut your voice is shouting My mind reminiscing Your love is lackingThe night is coldLonging of your armsI need your heat And your goneThe dawn is immenentI’m dreaming of you...

technology murdered childhood.

I kept loving and loving and loving. Every waking hour, I marveled on how these moments would make made me feel. I wanted to love the world and be the change it so deliciously craved.

A Poet never denies creativity entrance.

Love what is simple and beautiful. These are the essentials.

the ocean mist engulfs me, like a lifetime’s friendship honored.

To truly understand poetry one must understand themselves from within one’s self.

Le ChatViens, mon beau chat, sur mon coeur amoureux; Retiens les griffes de ta patte, Et laisse-moi plonger dans tes beaux yeux, Mêlés de métal et d’agate. Lorsque mes doigts caressent à loisir Ta tête...

In greatness, life and death merge.

The burning off and the gathering together are one.

There are no lungs like the ones that breathe poetry.

The wall between writing and painting is just good grammar. Moderation in moderation. Fun is scary with a happy ending. Just love. If love doesn’t transform that which annoys you, it will be easier to...

poems are small moments of enlightenment

Technology is grey. More technology, less colors. We’re building a world with colors only in poems.

No one could say the stories were uselessfor as the tongue clackedfive or forty fingers stitchedcorn was grated from the huskpathwork was piecedor the darning was done…(from ‘The Storyteller Poems’)

Poetry is one of my guilty pleasures and I want to thank you poets for providing me with beautiful words that I can devour and selfishly indulge in any time I want. ♥-Nina Jean Slack

She wildly burned for the one she loved and he stood there watching, hoping he too would catch a blaze from the violence stirring in her heart.

She got inside me with her story. I could feel her flowing in me and far, faraway I related in parallel. Her smile was a reflection of my own brokenness. It defined buried feelings that...

Turn your attentions to it. Try to raise up the sunken feelings of this enormous past; your personality will grow stronger, your solitude will expand and become a place where you can live in the...

some winterswill never meltsome summerswe’ll never freezeand some things will only… live in poems.

Poems can getsleepless tooand becomethe loneliest thingin the universe.

Amour me tue…Amour me tue, et si je ne veux direLe plaisant mal que ce m’est de mourir :Tant j’ai grand peur, qu’on veuille secourirLe mal, par qui doucement je soupire.Il est bien vrai, que...

When you draw, you copy the world don’t you? You remake it on paper, but it isn’t the same. It’s yours. No one else could have created it just like that. When I make poems,...

What you gain here, you lose on the other side.

OvermodulationBy Charlotte M Liebel-FawlsYou’re a cavity in my oasis,You’re a porthole in my sea,You’re a stretch of the imagination every time you look at me.You’re an ocean in my wineglass,You’re a Steinway on the beach,You’re...

In the hours waking,when we’re still all still,and you can hear the floorboards creaking,and you can feel the shades blow in,the night we slept with,we’ll never kiss like that again.Our lips, will sever, our memories,...

Horse[Man you will find herea new representation of the universeat its most poetic and most modernMan man man man man manGive yourself up to this art where the sublimedoes not exclude charmand brilliancy does not...

It…whatever ‘it’ is, has swallowed me and I lie here in the pit of its cold dark stomach being eaten alive by its bile and I…I don’t even know if I want to be saved.

Reading a stranger’s words and finding yourself in them.

My only wish is to be buried with my books.

Sometimes to self-discover you must self-destruct.

You’re not a bad person, you’re just a little bit different and I’m a sucker for that.

I started writing poetry and philosophy when I was 17 years old and my mind so was wild. Now I’m 56 and I often want to write like a child.

Ourchestra:So you haven’t got a drum, just beat your belly.So I haven’t got a horn-I’ll play my nose.So we haven’t any cymbals-We’ll just slap our hands together,And though there may be orchestrasThat sound a little...

This winter, there will be no voices, no glimpses, no arms.only the fabric of poetry, to keep me warm.

Some people like me, some don’t. I don’t understand, Where the difference comes from. My heart like them all. For a simple childish reason. We all are created equal, we all are humans.

She opened up a book of poems and handed it to me written by an Italian poet from the 13th century and every one of them words rang true and glowed like burning coal pouring...

The kind of poetry to avoid in the pretty-pretty kind that pleased our grandmothers, the kind that Longfellow and Tennyson, good poets at their best, wrote at their worst.

In the biggest and the smallest I sleep but at the same place I stay.

Here is the world. Don’t be afraid for wonderful and terrible things will happen. Simply remember to breath.

Come le donne le foglie si scambianoconfidenze acute.A volte sono cenni, a volteillazioni portentose.

Through the darkest hours of the nightand through the dreamers realm I seek,Far beyond the starry skyand beyond galaxies I am free.Through the grimmest memoriesand past a seasons air I cannot breathe,Far beyond this mortal...