Top Poetry Quotes

I used to be a poet.My words were traded in marketplaces like pieces of gold.Merchants bought my verses for as much as they paid for saffron and Indian jade.Now I am old...drunk on wine and candle fum...

Dance as the narration of a magical story; that recites on lips, illuminates imaginations and embraces the most sacred depths of souls.

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.

My heart is lost; the beasts have eaten it.

It takes one a long time to become young. - Picasso

I began to write because of love. I wrote to understand what I felt and what I knew.

I am deliberate and afraid of nothing.

Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?

It is beautiful to express love and even more beautiful to feel it.

A revolution in the eyes of man carries purpose.A revolution in the eyes of the awakened carries bliss.

And you know what the worst thing was?The worst thing was that nobody ever believed how hard we tried.

I do strongly feel that among the greatest pieces of luck for high achievement is ordeal. Certain great artists can make out without it, Titian and others, but mostly you need ordeal. My idea is this:...

You may follow the footstepsThe whole day will passWith you going around in circlesYet not reaching anywhere at last!

THE NEXT DAY WAS RAIN-SOAKED and smelled of thick sweet caramel, warm coconut and ginger. A nearby bakery fanned its daily offerings. A lapis lazuli sky was blanketed by gunmetal gray clouds as it wep...

Poems should be like pins which prick the skin of boredom and leave a glow equal in its pride to the gate of the sadist who stuck the pin and walked away

I hope that someday when I am gone, someone, somewhere, picks my soul up off of these pages and thinks, "I would have loved her.

Up on the Brooklyn Bridge a man is standing in agony, waiting to jump, or waiting to write a poem, or waiting for the blood to leave his vessels because if he advances another foot the pain of his lov...

My heart can feel the softness of a starOnly when the moon stays afar I lay my mind on the pillow of skyWhere sleep dares not ever to pry

Those people who shoot endless time-lapse films of unfurling roses and tulips have the wrong idea. They should train their cameras instead on the melting of pack ice, the green filling of ponds, the t...

A fool lies here who tried to hustle the East.

I wanted you mine. I wanted me yours.