To write good poems is the secret of brevity.

a politician is an arse uponwhich everyone has sat except a man

I love not man the less, but nature more

I put my faith in something unknown, beyond the moon, sun, and stars, one day I will own. I put my faith in something, renew. Beyond the rivers, deserts, mountains and valleys.One day it shall...

Remove the computer chipslodged in your brain before they convince youthat you’ve gone insane…Take a bite out of realityinstead of becominga reality byte.

I believe in family values and following your dreams.

Careful.The fall is quick,steep,and permanent.

…you fantasize about me reading my poems to you – it doesn’t work that way – I write down everything later – living is not an after-thought…

Society will always be too fragile to accept us for all that makes us beautiful.

Madness and chaos are self-destructing but over thinking is the suicide.

A crimson fire that vanquishes the stars;A pungent odor from the dusty sage;A sudden stirring of the huddled herds;A breaking of the distant table-landsThrough purple mists ascending, and the flareOf water ditches silver in the...

La Courbe de tes yeuxLa courbe de tes yeux fait le tour de mon coeur,Un rond de danse et de douceur,Auréole du temps, berceau nocturne et sûr,Et si je ne sais plus tout ce que...

A poem in the heart is worthmore than a million dollarsin the bank account.

I waited for the seasons of love to pass from this cold winter to the summer heat I dreamed of.

all people start tocome apart finallyand there it is:just empty ashtrays in a roomor wisps of hair on a combin the dissolving moonlight.

I travel, always arriving in the same place.

If you had told me, though, when I was twenty-four that I would write about Skokie, Illinois, where I grew up, I would have said, ‘You’re out of your mind. Why would I have Skokie...

Every moment of the nightForever changing placesAnd they put out the star-lightWith the breath from their pale faces

Le ChatJe souhaite dans ma maison:Une femme ayant sa raison.Un chat passant parmi les livres.Des amis en toute saisonSans lesquels je ne peux pas vivre.

I belong to clever words and bedtime storieseven a good riddle or twoI belong to the sound of musicand dance to my own rhythmI belong to the sunlight on a chilly autumn daywhen the world...

Today I write,riots with insite!Tomorrow I read,take the lead!Sometimes I sleep, health to keep!But for now I write,and got no gripe!

In Flanders fields the poppies blowBetween the crosses, row on rowThat mark our place; and in the skyThe larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns belowWe are the DeadShort days agoWe lived,...

anyone who has no feelings for animals has a dead heart.

Maybe I hope too much. Maybe I dream too much or maybe I love too much to just give up on you.

We may know who we are or we may not. We may be Muslims, Jews or Christians but until our hearts become the mould for every heart we will see only our differences.

Katanya,Kalau jodoh, alam semestapun akan ikut mendukung.Tapi ini BUKAN.Waktu tak pernah berpihak.Bahkan hatimu TIDAK.Bukan sekali, tapi 3 kali ketukan.Aku pikir itu cukup.Cukup untuk 1 kesimpulan.

When you left you left behind a fieldof silent flowers under a sky full of unstirred clouds…you left a million butterfliesmid-silky flutters You left like midnight rain against my dreaming ears Oh and how you...

let me diefrom having being drunk onindigo skies, my liver…overflowing with stars.

People used to say poems were different to songs but I don’t think they are.

But who are we, where do we come fromWhen all those yearsNothing but idle talk is leftAnd we are nowhere in the world?”= MEETING =

Love knows not from where you came, what religion you are, or even your name. Discover it and you will be whole, for when you do you have found your soul.

Mathematics doesn’t care about those beyond the numbers.

There was a young lady of NigerWho smiled as she rode on a tiger;They returned from a rideWith the Lady insideAnd the smile on the face of the tiger.

The world is a wide place where we stumble like children learning to walk. The world is a bright mosaic where we learn like children to see, where our little blurry eyes strive greedily to...

Is stuffed, de world, wif feeding girls.

You should gofrom place to placerecovering the poemsthat have been written for youto which you can affix your signature.Don’t discuss these matterswith anyone.Retrieve. Retrieve.When the basket is fullsomeone will appearto whom you can present it.

Through windows,in wishing wells,whispering in the wind…that’s where I find you.

I believe in your kiss… your touch and the way you make me feel. I believe in your eyes… that make me see the good in most. I believe in your mouth… and your sweet...

To be human is to be broken and broken is its own kind of beautiful.

I want you to judge me without thinking about it.I want you to give me advice without considering my opinion.I want you to expecting anything without the need to trust me.I want you to decide...

Man disavows, and Deity disowns me;Hell might afford my miseries a shelter;Therefore Hell keeps her ever-hungry mouths allBolted against me.Hard lot! encompassed with a thousand dangers,Weary, faint, trembling with a thousand terrors,I’m called, if vanquished,...

Sometimes the rainfallsjust for you and meto be the violinplaying in the backgroundof our loneliness’s song.

I could take a walk with my wife and try to explain the ghosts I can’t stop speaking to. Or I could read all those books piling upabout the beginning of the end of understanding…Meanwhile,...

And life goes on like this,an uncomplete poem.

It’s not easy to write a poem about a poem.

November comesAnd November goes,With the last red berriesAnd the first white snows.With night coming early,And dawn coming late,And ice in the bucketAnd frost by the gate.The fires burnAnd the kettles sing,And earth sinks to restUntil...

That’s what I love about poetry. The more abstract, the better. The stuff where you’re not sure what the poet’s talking about. You may have an idea, but you can’t be sure. Not a hundred...

A sacred soul Thus, within the cosmic creation proceed Life is precious as gold Death will come In a better place, where there’s no earthly lifeEternity exist…God….. Judgement falls upon usNothing to minus and nothing...

Great literature makes a great life.

From darkness; take me unto Light.O God! Help me today, make my maiden flight.From sorrow; give me the strength to break. And help me to love and to care.From darkness take me unto Light.O God!...