Poems Quotes

you are here.the moontides are here.and that’s all that matters.

~ Sanober Khan

You were the poem I never knew how to write because no words could describe the wind you cannot see, but feel.

~ Shannon L. Alder

MAN is a slave only to his own mental lethargy.

~ Mina Loy

Hemingway is overrated,Twain is even more lost at sea,And all truths point to the mouth of a woman,Where both her whispers and her screams,Are born.Pour another glass, Beer, wine, whiskey,I don't care,So long as its wisdom is sharp,And it tells lies instead of promises.

~ Dave Matthes

for those memories are nowjust like these little kittensI hold in my handsthose can be kissedand treasuredbut not held too tightly.

~ Sanober Khan

when I finally begin to driftinto sleepyour memory is the...firstand the moonlightthe last, to kiss my face.

~ Sanober Khan

Yes You Are!Like the Blossoming rose,Like the Rays of hope.Like a deer in the forest,Like an athlete full of zest.Like a lamp in temple,Like the life feeling ample.Like the feel of the dawn,Like the grace of the swan.Like the melody of sitar,Like the rage of guitar.Like a group of angels in the sky,Like the pot that makes you high.Like the peacock's dance,Like she is the romance.Like the silent talk,Like the wine from Medoc.Like the colors of life,Like the music from the fife.Like the calmness of the cold windLike the beauty of the hind.

~ Ameya Agrawal

she's gotoceanstucked awayin her hairpoems swimunder her skin.

~ Sanober Khan

i am permanentlytannedin the summer of poetry.

~ Sanober Khan

Silence explains a lot of things.It tells us why people are who they not supposed to be.It's the fear of being afraid.It's because of their own safety.Sometimes it becomes an unexplainable feeling.It shows the insecureties, acceptation, love and vulnerabilityinside everyone of us.

~ Tessa Vanluchene

Artists hide their identities in the brushstrokes of their paintings, the verses in their cantos, and the sentences in their novels. The true face of an artist is never on his face and this is what he prefers. Others misunderstand this displaced melancholy with an absence of melancholy.

~ Bruce Crown

The hell in your soul will always find heaven in mine.

~ Jenim Dibie

savorwith methe lushnessof a lingering sleep...and last night’sdream.

~ Sanober Khan

...and I laugh and I spin and dance and frolic in ecstasy and I... I hurt no more, while you...you petrified little man, are left to wonder if it's you I speak of.

~ Kellie Elmore

A Very Short Song Once, when I was young and true, Someone left me sad- Broke my brittle heart in two; And that is very bad. Love is for unlucky folk, Love is but a curse. Once there was a heart I broke; And that, I think, is worse.

~ Dorothy Parker

She (my mother) could still recite them (the poems) in full when she was lying helpless and nearly blind, in her bed, an old lady. Reciting, her voice took on resonance and firmness, it rang with the old fervor, with ferocity even. She was teaching me one more, almost her last, lesson: emotions do not grow old. I knew that I would feel as she did, and I do.

~ Eudora Welty

be good to yourselfyou're the only youyou'll ever get

~ R.h. Sin

The length of novels, poems and stories, is measured by the number of missing words; a thousand pages become one, one becomes a thousand.

~ Dejan Stojanovic

Rain's pouring and it's too cold. All people bored and I even accord What to do but spell a tale told: So once upon a time a land in the shore...

~ Ana Claudia Antunes

Dante Alighieri wrote his first book in the prosimetrum genre – La Vita Nuova – in 14th century Florence. Since I’m compiling this collection – my first indie publication – in Florence, just blocks from Dante’s house, and since his book involves a lost love, and ‘A New Life,’ I thought it fitting to emulate this style in my own casual, intuitive fashion. My hope is that the juxtaposition of poems, journal entries, essays and prose will create a story; a memoir in anarchistic vignettes.

~ Jalina Mhyana

So, the world happens twice--once what we see it as;second it legends itselfdeep, the way it is.

~ William Stafford

Don’t you dare say these times are hollowJust because there are storms raging by.Just lay low on your pillow,Close your eyes and say goodbyeTo the world that you lived in today.Let your dreams carry you away;You lived a nightmare all through the day,It is time to dream, so don’t delay.You searched for a reason to live,Yes darling, you searched everywhere.You had to push, you had to strive,It is time now to get some air.You searched in all that is outside,It is time now to look inside,Cause that is where you’ll findA reason worth keeping in your mind.These dreams are not an escape, darling,You need time to see past the lies that blind you.It is time for you to start runningTo those things that are true.So, don’t you dare say these nights are hollow,Just because there are storms raging by.Just lay low on your pillowAnd lose yourself in this lullaby.

~ Melita Tessy

These poems are cupsthat I pour my love into.Here, Drink!

~ Kamand Kojouri

At times poems can be like riddles, too difficult to decipher or comprehend. But how else does one come to understand what can only be felt but not said?

~ Raneem Kayyali

I exaggerateThere is a lie in my truthLook! My soul is blue

~ A.a. Patawaran

Poems arrive. They hide in feelings and images, in weeds and delivery vans, daring us to notice and give them form with our words. They take us to an invisible world where light and dark, inside and outside meet.

~ Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge

May the nights always be aglowwith the bliss of the daywith unharmed hands and feetand kissed cheeks.

~ Sanober Khan

The poet drafts his work as a writer but edits it as a sculptor, with his pen as a chisel and his mind a hammer.

~ Agona Apell

Like a speeding trainI am passing by...I don’t knowwhere I’m headingwith whom or whyall I know is thatI will never, everpass from here againall I know is I’m skidding forwardon this track of life.

~ Sanober Khan

I am a tale, I am a book, written in different languages and styles I can’t be read, can’t be understood,neither by me nor the greatest of minds I am too big, I am too small, to be processed or seen by the naked eyeI am too dim, I am too bright, to appear in the shadows or the sunshine.

~ Sanober Khan

I live there...Far above the song-filled clouds,where the dewdrops touch my skin so bareI live there.

~ Sanober Khan

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

~ Sanober Khan

the ocean mist engulfs me, like a lifetime’s friendship honored.

~ Sanober Khan

the sapphire depthof my own love...startlesand warmsand wounds my soul.

~ Sanober Khan

some poems frothand foam and rise...out of my morning cup ofmist-sweetened coffee.

~ Sanober Khan

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

~ Sanober Khan

To truly understand poetry one must understand themselves from within one’s self.

~ Richard M. Knittle Jr.

Poems are soft kitten furs. smoothing out the rough edges of my world.

~ Sanober Khan

it is to be savored like a seabreeze-whispereddream...in the mysteriousblue minutesbefore dawnlike a secretinfatuation.... like slowlanguorous sipsof green tea... like a lingeringglimpsea self-wrappedparadiselike his name upon my lips.

~ Sanober Khan

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

~ E.a. Bucchianeri