Burning the witch Giordano Bruno is one more wound inflicted on Christ’s body.

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...

Dreams are the poetry of life to be written with love and actions.

A snake bites your ankle.Recoiling, you scream.Fearing poison, your mind slips into a dream……where a man bites your ankle.Expecting no guile, ‘Again,’ softly falls from your lips with a smile.Yet, the man and the snake...

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility:whose texture compels me with the colour of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing (i do not...

The Ogre does what ogres can,Deeds quite impossible for Man,But one prize is beyond his reach:The Ogre cannot master speech.About a subjugated plain,Among it’s desperate and slain,The Ogre stalks with hands on hips,While drivel gushes...

Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely.

What is this life so full of care,We don’t have time to stand and stare.

Better off dead than giving in; not taking what you want.

The panther that has stalked yousince you were a childis old now. No longer wild,and tired of guarding the treasureyou yourself left behind – blind and deaf, she will give it all to youif you...

MenThey hail you as their morning starBecause you are the way you are.If you return the sentiment,They’ll try to make you different;And once they have you, safe and sound,They want to change you all around.Your...

victor hugo, Les Contemplations, MorsJe vis cette faucheuse. Elle était dans son champ. Elle allait à grands pas moissonnant et fauchant, Noir squelette laissant passer le crépuscule. Dans l’ombre où l’on dirait que tout tremble...

With one perfect kiss on one perfect English summer afternoon, we understand the meaning of all the colors of every rainbow, forevermore.

How should we be able to forget those ancient myths that are at the beginning of all peoples, the myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses; perhaps all the dragons of...

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;Weep, and you weep alone;For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,But has trouble enough of its own.

How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true; But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

It is not inertia alone that is responsible for human relationships repeating themselves from case to case, indescribably monotonous and unrenewed: it is shyness before any sort of new, unforeseeable experience with which one does...

no, you will never do that, that’s not you, not who I know, not who I thought you were”, and I will say “watch me”.

Shadow is ever besieged, for that is its nature. Whilst darkness devours, and light steals. And so one sees shadow ever retreat to hidden places, only to return in the wake of the war between...

Poetry in the dark of the night you are my torch.Poetry makes you believe in the freedom in your own home.Poetry causes the increase of the human race.Poetry ennobles the spirit of man.Poetry is like...

Loveis not leaning on each other, adjusting to fit a different size.Loveis simply two hands reached out in the darkness,saying; I’ll be your light, if you’ll be mine.

According to [Galway] Kinnell, to make a poem you need the creatures of the world, language, and the unconsious brought together.

This is almost always the case: A piece of art receives its f(r)ame when found offensive.

I offer you my soulWithin are my flawsMy grace, my kindnessMy love for you”The Offer

Perfumes are the feelings of flowers.

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road.Healthy, free, the world before me.The long brown path before me leading me wherever I choose.Henceforth, I ask not good fortune, I myself am good fortune.Henceforth, I...

i don’t want to hate the presidenti don’t want to go to harvardi don’t want to win the pulitzer prizei just want to sit in my bathtuband think about relationships i will never havewith people...

Haven’t you seen and heard that every word I seed for you is a feeling, and every thought I bloom bears a meaning? Rivers of words, blending together for the same course, the action of...

Great poetry needs no interpreter other than a responsive heart.

The pure products of Americago crazy……[] No one to witnessand adjust, no one to drive the car

There’s a book of poetryin the lines of my handsthat no one wants to read

LADY LAZARUSI have done it again.One year in every tenI manage it–A sort of walking miracle, my skinBright as a Nazi lampshade,My right footA paperweight,My face a featureless, fineJew linen.Peel off the napkinO my enemy.Do...

Aku di sini kamu di sana, tapi kita tetap bisa berpelukan dalam doa dan puisi.

Writing, then, was a substitute for myself: if you don’t love me, love my writing & love me for my writing. It is also much more: a way of ordering and reordering the chaos of...

Please lift your snowy skies off my soul -Your diamond dreams slice through my veins

Whenever a time arises where clarity is desired, it is always wise to reflect on the sage within.

If there is no God,Not everything is permitted to man.He is still his brother’s keeperAnd he is not permitted to sadden his brother,By saying there is no God.

Love alters all. Unblood my instinct, love.

A skillful literary artist has constructed a tale. If wise, he has not fashioned his thoughts to accommodate his incidents; but having conceived, with deliberate care, a certain unique or single effect to be wrought...

There’s gold, and it’s haunting and haunting; It’s luring me on as of old; Yet it isn’t the gold that I’m wanting So much as just finding the gold. It’s the great, big, broad land...

The LakeIn spring of youth it was my lotTo haunt of the wide world a spotThe which I could not love the less-So lovely was the lonelinessOf a wild lake, with black rock bound,And the...

Then, what is sacrelige [sic]? If it is nothing more than a rebellion against dogma, it is eventually as meaningless as the dogma it defies, and they are both become hounds ranting in the high...

People are looking for chimes and resonances. Chimes leave echoes, and that’s what rhyme is. Poetry is about leaving an echo imprint in somebody else’s head, in the dark snow of their mind.

I’ll be writing as long as I can hold a pen in my curled, crimped arthritic hands and then I’ll dictate it, if it comes to that. They’ll have to pry my pen out of...

The Ph.D is one of the chosen who know that some things can never be fathomed, no matter how hard you try. What good are explanations? There is no possibility of explaining how such a...

There is a great deal of poetry and fine sentiment in a chest of tea

we’re lost where the mind can’t find usutterly lost

Distance, the dissonance insurmountable,would be not the end,but a magnet.When fingertips kiss,they imprint and cement something,that cannot be disintegrated. Time becomes a phantom,the wind becomes an anchor,and old dreams- blankets of warmth.Lull with me, Lady,there...

Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.

Places We LovePlaces we love exist only through us,Space destroyed is only illusion in the constancy of time,Places we love we can never leave,Places we love together, together, together,And is this room really a room,...