Oh, the things we invent when we are scaredand want to be rescued.

When he is most powerful, nothing does he become.

truth is a friendthat asks for loyaltyand acceptancethen it enters our heartsdissolving the boundariesfreeing us from lonliness

Every star was once darker than the night, before it awoke.

Writing poetry is talking to oneself; yet it is a mode of talking to oneself in which the self disappears; and the product’s something that, though it may not be for everybody, is about everybody.

In every sound, the hidden silence sleeps.

Ill love you with every little bit of everything that has ever consumed me and I will forever love you and forever find you in every life time and so on. Until the stars die...

Unjustified ambition kills value,Kills someone else’s desire to fly, Cuts their wings, sucks their air.If there is nothing else, it eats its own life.

My world was the size of a crayon box, and it took every colour to draw her

There is no born lover, There is no born Don Juan, For we are all lovers.

Thơ ca là thứ vô cùng phù phiếm nhưng vô cùng thiêng liêng. Tôi tin ngay. Cũng như tôi tin ở trền đời có những thứ vô cùng thiêng liêng nhưng vô cùng phù phiếm.

Our desire to say more grows bigger and what to say about it, except that saying is not always about saying, growing is not always about growing.

This dwarf still observes the world from his own self-imposed height.

poetry’s favourite moment is when one loses one’s footing because of a landslide or seismic shaking of thought

How does one say something new and not retell?

I did what I could,I tried to stay away,I told myself that I don’t need you,I don’t need to feel this way,But soon I realized that I am just a fishAlways falling as you’re prey

I’m a man of integrity. My heart is locked and I have given you the only key.

Dear to me is sleep: still more, being made of stone,While pain and guilt still linger here below,Blindness and numbness–these please me alone;Then do not wake me, keep your voices low.

Focus on beauty, not on feardance with stress to let it clear

Poetry is no rocket science, a good poet writes from his heart!

if everything happens that can’t be done(and anything’s righterthan bookscould plan)the stupidest teacher will almost guess(with a runskiparound we go yes)there’s nothing as something as oneone hasn’t a why or because or although(and buds know...

He is the Way.Follow Him through the Land of Unlikeness;You will see rare beasts, and have unique adventures.He is the Truth.Seek Him in the Kingdom of Anxiety;You will come to a great city that has...

No one but Night, with tears on her dark face, watches beside me in this windy place.

I offer you what I have myPoverty

We are not concerned with the very poor. They are unthinkable, and only to be approached by the statistician or the poet.

This is definitely / for the brothers / who ain’t here.

The burning off and the gathering together are one.

To Your eyes a thousand years are like yesterday come and gone, no more than a watch in the night.You sweep men away like a dream, like grass which springs up in the morning.In the...

Examens zijn sadistische loterijen

The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.

You read and write and sing and experience, thinking that one day these things will build the character you admire to live as. You love and lose and bleed best you can, to the extreme,...

Isn’t it time that these most ancient sorrows of ours grew fruitful? Time that we tenderly loosed ourselves from the loved one, and, unsteadily, survived: the way the arrow, suddenly all vector, survives the string...

Take a shower, wash off the day. Drink a glass of water. Make the room dark. Lie down and close your eyes.Notice the silence. Notice your heart. Still beating. Still fighting. You made it, after...

Poetry expands the senses and keeps them in prime condition. It keeps you aware of your nose, your eye, your ear, your tongue, your hand.

You ask me why I don’t speakNot a word at willBut write so much worth well over a mill’Well I value words like I value kissesA sober one, a closer one penetrates the heartDarling it’s...

POD RALOMRalo tvog blagog čelicnog pogledaizbrazdalo je moje srcei iz te zemlje preoranecvet rastanka je zaridaoDanasu istom graduu kome smo se rastalijedino ja vidim tvoju statuuna trgu IzgubljenjaHiljade dana vec je prošlood dana kada smo...

From the perspective of my old laptop,I am a numbers man,something like thatevery instruction he gives me is a one or a zeroI remember wellI have information about him before he left for his new...

Freedom is the dream you dreamWhile putting thought in chains again —

Here the frailest leaves of me and yet my strongest lasting, Here I shade and hide my thoughts, I myself do not expose them, And yet they expose me more than all my other poems

Poetry and art and knowledge are sacred and pure.

When flying dreams hit the soil of reality, all that remains are the imprints of experience.

Far over misty mountains coldTo dungeons deep and caverns oldWe must away, ere break of day,To find our long-forgotten gold.

Danse Russe If I when my wife is sleeping and the baby and Kathleen are sleeping and the sun is a flame-white disc in silken mists above shining trees,– if I in my north room...

Thee, my serenity, one can not bear, Seeing thee befuddled, bereaved,Dimmed like the midnight, secluded, darkened,Thee, my serenity,A window to my eyes, A window to laughter, and peace of mind,Thee, my serenity, one can not...

Science is the poetry of reality.

The night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man; and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness I learned the language of another world.

Nick and the CandlestickI am a miner. The light burns blue. Waxy stalactitesDrip and thicken, tearsThe earthen wombExudes from its dead boredom. Black bat airsWrap me, raggy shawls, Cold homicides.They weld to me like plums.Old...

That was not sex. That was naked poetry.

Petals don’t ask Where to landThey just fall With grace.

I have defined poetry as a ‘passionate pursuit of the Real.