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Laura Chouette Quotes

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Famous Laura Chouette Quotes

“Pothole in the Sky My veins ground too deep to become a statue,
And the flight is delayed too late—
So I take off again. I take off without the vein of the city
That lifts me to heaven with a million lights
And a few streets in between. The darkness blooms like a desert,
And in my aeroplane, I become a small flower,
Travelling too far and without sight. Clouds outside windows become a stair frame,
And the dark blue of mornings drifts by,
While I dream of Paris and every thought That drifted by.”

PoetryNostalgiaRomanticismDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryLiterary PoetryMelancholic PoetryEthereal SolitudePoetic ImageryTravel Poetry
Book:The Willow Song
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“While we haunt ourselves, we become part of others. With all our broken pieces, we are gathered in mosaics— reflecting every careless smile, echoing every careless word. We become them eventually, in the way we live and survive each night. Ghosts, bohemian wallpapers, and shiny crystal whiskey glasses, used by them—hauntingly beautiful, collected, and far behind. And after all this, nothing of ourselves remains.”

PoetryLove And LossEmotional DepthBroken PiecesExistential PoetryPersonal TragedyTragic LoveWriting About LifePoetic ReflectionHaunting Memories
Author:Laura Chouette
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“Gardens Souls digging and grieving
Under spades so silver
That outcast dawn. The earth becomes lighter
Yet grows darker with each inch
The shovel takes into the dirt. The white of the texture
That once before touched our hands
In innocence leaps into forgiveness. The grave is deep and uneven,
Its lines are simply met with even words
That haunt the living and haunt our worst. Purple shadows reckoning our streets,
Leaving the darkness to sleep
With a mantle of marble at least. The moon's line shows sorrow
On hands that dig down far
And reveal the things — that dawned on us before.”

Winter PoetryShadows And LightEarth And SorrowHaunting WordsMarble MantlesMoonlit DespairMourning And ForgivenessReckoning And ReflectionSeasonal SolitudeUneven Graves
Author:Laura Chouette
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“Paris The Seine dresses in light black,
Mimicking the dark grey of the sky, And so, I drown my ink into it. Each poem becomes art, Reflecting and dancing
Around my hands with care. The notes the river shares
Become a painting that inspires
All the great artists housed in its museums. Still, I vow and pray by its sight —
Yet I dare not claim to be an artist
As great as the one in sight. In Paris.”

PoetryParisRomanticismDark AcademiaContemporary PoetryArtistic InspirationLiterary PoetryMelancholic PoetryEthereal SolitudePoetic Imagery
Book:The Willow Song
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