From time to timeI once wondered how one wanders from time to timeAnd think up the paradox lineSpeak of Epoch’s crimeOh I lied, it hasn’t happened yetBut bet you better believe it’s such a habit...

we want it visibleto showwhen even the most visible joywill reveal itselfonly when we havetransformed it within.there’s nowhere, my love, the world can existexpect within.

There were days when I still put on make up in case you’d come back,but I wear the same clothes and shower in the rainand eat when I can and sleep when I can,which is...

I must create a system, or be enslaved by another man’s. I will not reason and compare: my business is to create.

literature will lose, sunlight will win, don’t worry.

I will be very careful the next time I fall in love, she told herself. Also, she had made a promise to herself that she intended on keeping. She was never going to go out...

I’ve finally decided to write about profit for a changeBut before I really started I already started to feel lameBaby what’s it to a beast who manely to money remains untamed

Resist much, obey little.

Neither I nor the four flippers of the sea-bear of the Boreal ocean have been able to solve the riddle of life.

The inmost spirit of poetry, in other words, is at bottom, in every recorded case, the voice of pain – and the physical body, so to speak, of poetry, is the treatment by which the...

I’m not your blue-eyed Czech,I’m just a brown-eyed girl, A little mix of rock your world,And now you’ll never be the same. You grabbed me by the hand,I grabbed you by the neck. I changed...

One’s-Self I Sing One’s-self I sing, a simple separate person, Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-Masse. Of physiology from top to toe I sing, Not physiognomy alone nor brain alone is worthy for...

Our love went from fly to flower to butterfly, and it was meant to beautifully flutter, not sit still on a shelf like a trophy to be collected.

The HurricaneThe tree lay downon the garage roof and stretched, You have your heaven, it said, go to it.

If I waste all my charity, all I’ll wind up with in the end is the wind. Still, I think I want to be the Dandelion of Love.

I?I walk alone;The midnight streetSpins itself from under my feet;My eyes shutThese dreaming houses all snuff out;Through a whim of mineOver gables the moon’s celestial onionHangs high.IMake houses shrinkAnd trees diminishBy going far; my look’s...

Aku dan dia sama dengan selamanya,” bisikmu. Dan aku pun berulangkali terperangkap dalam kulkas berisi puisipuisi setengah jadi ini.

If you put it as ‘complex nervous systems’ it sounds pretty deflationary. What’s so special about a complex nervous system? But of course, that complex nervous system allows you to do calculus. It allows you...

Rhythm must have meaning.

she stuck a bookmark in my heart and walked away

I am in awe of flowers. Not because of their colors, but because even though they have dirt in their roots, they still grow. They still bloom.

Your flesh is not a reflection of your soul. So when you look in the mirror, remember that your light outshines your flaws.

There is some awe mixed with the joy of our surprise, when this poet, who lived in some past world, two or three hundred years ago, says that which lies close to my own soul,...

To HelenI saw thee once-once only-years ago;I must not say how many-but not many.It was a july midnight; and from outA full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven,There...

Walk the midway and hear the carnival barker. Come see the freak named after his deceased father. Come see the prince who wants to abdicate his throne. Come see the son whose name is carved...

Poets are shameless with their experiences: they exploit them.

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.

I submitted a poem last night to The New Yorker. They said it can take up to three months to hear back. I got rejected immediately.

Reclaiming the sacred in our lives naturally brings us close once more to the wellsprings of poetry.

What’s the use of writing poetry for your peers? I don’t think I should sell my poetry to other poets. If that’s who my audience is, I’m dead, I’m not going to make any money.

Some hae meat and canna eat,And some wad eat that want it,But we hae meat and we can eat,And sae the Lord be thankit.

Don’t use the phone. People are never ready to answer it. Use poetry.

Snow harder! Snow more!Snow blizzards galore!I can’t get enoughOf the fluffy white stuff!Snow! Snow! Snow!Snow a ton! Snow a heap!Snow ten feet deep!I wouldn’t cryIf it snowed til July.Snow! Snow! Snow!

Meredith,’ interposed Celia, ‘makes one of his women, Emilia in England, say that poetry is like talking on tiptoe; like animals in cages, always going to one end and back again.

As she laughed I was aware of becoming involved in her laughter and being part of it, until her teeth were only accidental stars with a talent for squad-drill.

Poetry is the way that we transcend language through language. And thus our freedom lies in the poetry of all things

Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry.

there isn’t enough of anythingas long as we live. But at intervalsa sweetness appears and, given a chanceprevails.

I held a jewel in my fingersAnd went to sleep.The day was warm, and winds were prosy;I said: “‘T will keep.”I woke and chid my honest fingers,—The gem was gone;And now an amethyst remembranceIs all...

At any time, and under any circumstances of human interest, is it not strange to see how little real hold the objects of the natural world amid which we live can gain on our hearts...

your smile.is the ultimategolden dream.all the poemsin the worldare waking up from.

How….will I ever truly depict you?You’re perfect, my writing isn’t.

A Paradise for you and meTrust, true love to guide us freeLoneliness shall not fill the dayI will forever be with youOur Love is beautiful like the sunshine lighting the wayYour gentle feelYour caring handsThere...

..i spill intothe kind of silenceonly Khalil Gibran would understand.

Keep Moving…Move forwardLet go Give inDecideand just DoProgress every dayAnd make one step forward no matter what’s in your wayKeep moving, till one day you wake up and you’re there.

my dear, I have nothing to say.my heart burns like the evening sky.

O friend unseen, unborn, unknown,Student of our sweet English tongue,Read out my words at night, alone:I was a poet, I was young.Since I can never see your face,And never shake you by the hand,I send...

you make autumn misttaste like champagne and turn winter raininto the elixir of life itself.

Not in the clamor of the crowded street,Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng,But in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.

poetry. i am not writing it.(make way for me please)it is my skin. dripping with light.