How could I live above the water or breathe under it. How could I swim in darkness consumed in an ocean of you? Falling or flying towards you, losing or finding myself in you and...

There is always the question why And there is always life, Which doesn’t need an answer.

At the end of the day I went to this place where your memories left footsteps on my skin and the breath of your touch stained my desire. Yea, it was one of those nights...

For a moment at least, be a smile on someone else’s face.

Breath, dreams, silence, invincible calm, you triumph.

Forget decorated generals, tell me about Private Ryan.

Wilted or in bloom,taking or lending daylight,the world transitions.

Statesmen are grocers, ambitious clowns.

If I wouldn’t have spent so much time shooting spit wads at my English teacher, I’d know how to punctuate. Good thing I normally write poetry.

Sunbathe from within.

I stood there on the corner of the street,I held on to your hand,I looked into your eyes,And all you responded with was,”move on

Sublime wonders lie in store,I am shown a regal residence;a mighty kingdom, an empirewith more grandeur than before …

As when, O lady mine,With chiselled touchThe stone unhewn and coldBecomes a living mould,The more the marble wastes,The more the statue grows.

I KNEW IT WAS OVERwhen tonight you couldn’t make the phone ringwhen you used to make the sun risewhen trees used to throw themselvesin front of youto be paper for love lettersthat was how i...

Dying only means moving into a nicer house. We have only gone into the next room.We still are what we have always been.We aren’t far away. We are only on the other side of the...

something genuine like a mark in a toilet, graced with guts and gutted with grace

The beautiful you is not the color of your skinOr the texture of your hair.The beautiful you is not how tall or short you areThe beautiful you is not rather you’re skinny or overweight by...

And must I then, indeed, Pain, live with youall through my life?-sharing my fire, my bed,Sharing-oh, worst of all things!-the same head?-And, when I feed myself, feeding you too?

So this is what I amPondering his eyes that could notConceive that I was a creature to run fromI who have always believed too much in words

Igen: élni, míg élünk,Igen: ez a szabály.De mit csináljunk az életünkkel,Ha fáj?Élni, míg élünk

For those who sense and comprehend,They know that heaven is at hand;The river blue which stream and stream,It has the pictures of my dream.

Spring and Fall: To a Young ChildMárgarét, are you gríevingOver Goldengrove unleaving?Leáves, líke the things of man, youWith your fresh thoughts care for, can you?Ah! ás the heart grows olderIt will come to such sights...

Negative people feed off of your anger, let them starve.

Bedenkelijker dan de veelbesproken verrechtsing van de jongeren, lijkt me de vertrutting van de oudjes.

One must read poetry with one’s nerves.

Let our scars fall in love.

We say God and the imagination are one . . .How high that highest candle lights the dark.

He [the poet] brings out the inner part of things and presents them to men in such a way that they cannot refuse but must accept it. But how the mere choice and rhythm of...

I told you in the course of this paper that Shakespeare had a sister; but do not look for her in Sir Sidney Lee’s life of the poet. She died young–alas, she never wrote a...

Songwriting and poetry are so commonly birthed from underdogs because one can make even the ugliest situations admirable, or more beautiful than the beautiful situations – they are the most graceful media in which the...

Amy King is a true bard.

A tree is my keeper, a warrior silhouette.

I don’t write poems to melt your heart.I write them,so our heartscan melt together.

The InfiniteIt was always dear to me, this solitary hill,and this hedgerow here, that closes out my view,from so much of the ultimate horizon.But sitting here, and watching here, in thought,I create interminable spaces,greater than...

why can’t you see i’m a kid’, said the kid.Why try to make me like you?Why are you hurt when I don’t cuddle?Why do you sigh when I splash through a puddle?Why do you scream...

As palavras que te envio são interditasaté, meu amor, pelo halo das searas;se alguma regressasse, nem já reconheciao teu nome nas suas curvas claras.

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

Take’th my temple and cut it into little stars, placed carefully to the face of heaven and the world will shine.

I Am VerticalBut I would rather be horizontal.I am not a tree with my root in the soilSucking up minerals and motherly loveSo that each March I may gleam into leaf,Nor am I the beauty...

Dan aku tiba di sini; jalan raya yang terbuat dari parasmu. Katakatacanggung, waktu gugu. Bagaimanakah kau menerjemahkan kekosongan?

And because it is my heart.

It is difficult to write a paradiso when all the superficial indications are that you ought to write an apocalypse.

Books are carefully folded forests/void of autumn/bound from the sun

What is the finding of love, but a voice answering a voice?

Every word was once a poem.

I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of beauty.

What would your shoes say about the things you do everyday?