Last night I inhaled the fragrance of the Moon!

Use the wings of the flying Universe, Dream with open eyes; See in darkness.

Poetry Definition

(n.) The art of apprehending and interpreting ideas by the faculty of imagination; the art of idealizing in thought and in expression.

(n.) Imaginative language or composition, whether expressed rhythmically or in prose. Specifically: Metrical composition; verse; rhyme; poems collectively; as, heroic poetry; dramatic poetry; lyric or Pindaric poetry.

I have found so much beauty in the dark,as I have found a lot of horror in the light.

She is the fragrance of a dozen jasmines.

Every new dayOur children's joy is as fresh as roses,Even the birds chatter at dawn.

We traveled long and forgot why poetry was invented.

He shall rule, whom they look not for that dwell upon the earth, and the fowls shall take their flight away together:

If life transcends deathThen I will seek for you thereIf not, then there too

I'm falling apart, one part after another. Falling down on the world like snow. Half of me is already on the ground, watching from below.

It is Homer who has chiefly taught other poets the art of telling lies skilfully.

Poetry is jealous of you tonight, for as soon as I come to pen a few words, your perfume attacks me in the most civilised manner and I forget myself. I forget the poem. I forget the ...

There is no competition of sounds between a nightingale and a violin.

I am a lover of words and tragically beautiful things, poor timing and longing, and all things with soul, and I wonder if that means I am entirely broken, or if those are the things that have been kee...

Live in the shadow of the moon until you're bright enough to give birth to your own suns.

A fortress built long ago,Walls made timeless by historic glory.The small girl in the boat slows,To listen to its story.

I'm pretty lost in becoming all this frost. Bitter, like Winter. Strung-out like a string of pearls.

She might not have read many books. But when she reads a book, she swallows the very words. If you open the books on her shelves, you will find that the front and back covers encase white pages.

All shadows of clouds the sun cannot hide like the moon cannot stop oceanic tide;but a hidden star can still be smiling at night's black spell on darkness, beguiling

Even so have I given the womb of the earth to those that be sown in it in their times.

I would rather go mad, gone down the dark road to Mexico, heroin dripping in my veins, eyes and ears full of marijuana, eating the god Peyote on the floor of a mudhut on the border or laying in a hote...