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Free Verse Quotes

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Free Verse Quotes

“Leaches Ten Tall by Stewart Stafford Don't play this game with me, Predatory whelk of tide pools, Taint me as Rigoletto to a bawd, Floundering florist to my bee. Devotion twisted to a changeling, Now a jealous twin in the shadows, From dancing partner to judge; Delicate consensus to harshest critic. Slice of cold shoulder sandwich, Sup the chalice of icy comfort, Not snowfall on Christmas morn, Oaken boards trodden in a manger. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

HeartbreakBetrayalManipulationEmotional AbuseDisillusionmentToxic RelationshipsFree VerseDark PoetryPsychological TraumaConfessional Poetry
Author:Stewart Stafford
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“When you left you left behind a field of silent flowers under a sky full of unstirred clouds...you left a million butterflies mid-silky flutters You left like midnight rain against my dreaming ears Oh and how you left leaving my coffee scentless and my couch comfortless leaving upon my fingers the melting snow of you you left behind a calendar full of empty days and seasons full of aimless wanders leaving me alone with an armful of sunsets your reflection behind in every puddle your whispers upon every curtain your fragrance inside every petal you left your echoes in between the silence of my eyes Oh and how you left leaving my sands footless and my shores songless leaving me with windows full of moistened moonlight nights and nights of only a half-warmed soul and when you left... you left behind a lifetime of moments untouched the light of a million stars unshed and when you left you somehow left my poem...unfinished. (Published in Taj Mahal Review Vol.11 Number 1 June 2012)”

WritingPainPoetryLossLove QuotesSilenceSadnessEmotionalPoemRainSilentLeavingPoetry QuotesPoemsMidnightUnfinishedIndian AuthorsFree VerseWhispersShores
Author:Sanober Khan
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“How do I know I have lived? How can I be certain my days were not squandered? What criteria, which principles qualify life as lived? Certainly, I have endured trials and troubles, and I learned from life’s lessons. I grew wise as well as empathetic. But is edification and its accompanying traits the ultimate aim for living? I have traveled. Oh, I have seen marvelous wonders in this world. Skies that were artic blue, emerald green, soft lilac, and rosy red. Mountains fixed like monuments to the gods. Waters as clear as crystal, as blue as larimar, deeper than a leviathan’s lair, and as vast as the night’s sky. I have witnessed pyramids and castles, colosseums, great walls, and temples. Is this living? To travel, to see, to awe at the world’s aesthetic wonders? I have experienced great joys in my days: laughter, kindness, fun, love, thrills, successes. I have suffered a great many sorrows: sickness, loss, pain, cruelty, vengeance, disparagement. I have valued the good and abhorred the bad. Is this the ultimate feat of living? I have been actively doing: from sailing to flying, acting to singing, hiking to biking. I have dived, danced, drummed, battled, built, raced, and used my incredible body to perform every activity I desired. I gained strength and endurance in the process. Is this a sure sign of living? I have been part of a family and raised my own. I have formed lasting, loyal friendships that have passed the test of time. I have felt what it means to sacrifice for loved ones, shared in their joys and sorrows, prayed for tender mercies and miracles in their lives. I have loved and been loved in return. Is it connection to family and friends, the relationships developed between kindred, is this what it means to truly live? How do I know I have lived? As my days near an end, how can I be certain my life was worthwhile and not wasted? Did I accomplish what life mandates of those who truly live? What qualifies life as lived?”

LifePoetryLife PhilosophyRichelle GoodrichRichelle E GoodrichLiving LifeFree Verse
Book:A Heart Made of Tissue Paper
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“Just as in the second part of a verse bad poets seek a thought to fit their rhyme, so in the second half of their lives people tend to become more anxious about finding actions, positions, relationships that fit those of their earlier lives, so that everything harmonizes quite well on the surface: but their lives are no longer ruled by a strong thought, and instead, in its place, comes the intention of finding a rhyme.”

PoetryPsychologyFree VerseMiddle AgeArt And LifeMid Life Crisis
Book:Human, All Too Human: A Book for Free Spirits
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“A midst deceit I found the truth; there in the rough I found a diamond. And from the moment we met, I think of no one else Today I choose to be, to live and breathe; to dream, to weep, and to sing in free verse. And you, the object of my delight: a like-minded opposite I am myself with, a mind-fuck times six, seven, eight thousand and three. I know that you love me with every inch of your deep.”

LoveArtPoetryLiteratureRelationshipsBlogArtsFree VerseGlbtDonatoOnline Writing
Book:Compound Delusions: The Rise and Fall of our Design
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“سيستغرق الجرح وقتاً ليكتشف الليل حزن القمرْ… هنا الأرض أضيق من رغبتي بالبكاء، وهذي السماء،على الرغم من كل بهجتها في المساء… ورغم اتساع المدى واخضرار الشجرْ… عروقيَ خيطان طائرةً في بلادي، وقلبي حجرْ… دعيني أصدّق عينيك يا حلوتي، كلّ من كان خان، دعيني أصدق أنّ يديك اهتدائي الأخير إلى لغتي الواعدةْ… دعيني أفسر جوع العصافير وهي تحوم على سورة المائدةْ! دعيني أفكر بي، وبنا، وبمن قال إن الهويات نصلٌ بأحلامنا الهامدةْ… لماذا تظل البلاد التي عذبتنا طويلاً ندوباً بأرواحنا الباردةْ؟ وهل نحن نرحل ما دام تبقى البيوت ثقوباً بأجسادنا الشاردةْ! لقد قطّعتنا البلاد إلى حطب من رحيلٍ، وقد أحرقتنا اشتياقاً، لماذا تحنّ الغصون إلى الريح والشجرة الجاحدة؟ ولماذا على غرقٍ أبيض حين أكتب أسكب كل القصائد في دمعة واحدةْ؟”

Spoken WordMahdi MansourProse PoetryFree VerseRomantic PoetrySlam PoetryRhyming Poetry
Author:Mahdi Mansour
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“منتظراً، مثلكِ، وعداً من خلف البحرِ ومنهمراً مثل الأمطارِ على بيروتَ، وأقنعُ نفسي ألا ضير بقفزٍ من سطح الغيم إلى بئر الحب.. وأكتبُ: في موت القطراتِ حياةْ كالموجِ أميلُ يساراً جهةَ القلبِ، أفكرُ أين سأصبح بعد كتابين من الآن، أصوّرُ نفسي حتى لا أتصوّرُ نفسي من غير يديك وأحلمُ بالآتْ... ضوءُ نهارٍ آخرَ فوق الشاطئ ماتْ تنكسرُ على قدم المقهى أحلامُ البحرِ وأمواجُ العاشرِ من آذار... كما تنكسر على شفتي الكلماتْ في آخرِ سطرٍ في دفتر هذي الليلةِ أكتبُ: كفّاكِ سفينةُ نوحٍ... صدركِ: ذهبُ الله الأبيضُ.. قلبكِ: كبريتٌ يشتعلُ جمالاً وطموحْ شفتاكِ: عناقيدٌ تحلمُ أن تُعتصرَ نبيذاَ أبدياً... وتُعتّق في خابيةِ الروحْ هل قلتُ يداكِ سفينةُ نوحٍ.. نسيتُ التوضيح: حياتي نوحْ...”

Spoken WordMahdi MansourProse PoetryFree VerseRomantic PoetrySlam PoetryRhyming Poetry
Author:Mahdi Mansour
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“في حضنها كن ندى.. كن غيمةً... مطرا‬ واغمض يديك على نيرانها لترى لن تفهم الحب، حاول إن وقعت به أن تفهم الفأس لا أن تفهم الشجرا... ولا تفكّر كثيراً، دع غداً لغدٍ كن عاشقاً، أجمل الأغصان ما انكسرا خف من بقائكما لا من رحيلكما لن تحبس الريح مهما تحبس الوترا لا ورد يملك عطراً، وهو يسكنه والليل مهما سرى لن يملك القمرا دعها تحبك... دعها أن تحب... غداً يبقى من العمر... حبّ كان... وانتثرا...”

Spoken WordMahdi MansourProse PoetryFree VerseRomantic PoetrySlam PoetryRhyming Poetry
Author:Mahdi Mansour
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“الأدراج: قصائد المدن نحو معانيها العالية… على أيّ درب أواعدُ عينيكِ... والأمنيات ثكالى وكلّ الدروبِ بلا آخرِ... تعبنا نفتّش عن حلمٍ واحدٍ للبقاء.. فلمْ تلتفت نجمةٌ في الحنين إلى غربةِ العابرِ نُسينا وحيدين حتى تقاسَمنا الوجدُ والطارئون فما همَّ من باع عهد الضياع ومن يشتري وصافحني سيف هذا الرحيل.. وقد كنت غمداً أصيلاً فلم أخسر العنفوانَ ولم تخسري”

Spoken WordMahdi MansourProse PoetryFree VerseRomantic PoetrySlam PoetryRhyming Poetry
Author:Mahdi Mansour
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“I compelled myself all through to write an exercise in verse, in a different form, every day of the year. I turned out my page every day, of some sort - I mean I didn't give a damn about the meaning, I just wanted to master the form - all the way from free verse, Walt Whitman, to the most elaborate of villanelles and ballad forms. Very good training. I've always told everybody who has ever come to me that I thought that was the first thing to do.”

WayGivingWritingYearsFirstsMeanDifferentWantedFormMastersExercisePagesTrainingVery GoodDamnThings To DoVersesCompelledWaltBalladsDays Of The YearFree Verse
Author:Conrad Aiken
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“Among those today who believe that modern poetry must do without rhyme or metre, there is an assumption that the alternative to free verse is a crash course in villanelles, sestinas and other such fixed forms. But most... are rare in English poetry. Few poets have written a villanelle worth reading, or indeed regret not having done so.”

BelieveDoneTodayFormCoursesReadingWrittenModernPoetRegretAlternativesFixedAssumptionVersesCrashRhymeWorth ReadingFree VerseModern PoetryEnglish Poetry
Author:James Fenton
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“The modern poet has no essential alliance with regular schemes of any sorts.He reserves the right to adapt his rhythm to his mood, to modulate his metre as he progresses. Far from seeking freedom and irresponsibility (implied by the unfortunate term free verse) he seeks a stricter discipline of exact concord of thought and feeling.”

FeelingsTermProgressModernPoetDisciplineEssentialsSeekingMoodRhythmVersesReservesSchemesUnfortunateAlliancesThoughts And FeelingsImpliedIrresponsibilityFree Verse
Author:Herbert Read
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“So many people's school experience contains at least one instance of being looked down upon because they didn't care for one or more of the sacred mutant outcroppings of High Modernism, and they concluded from this that Literature is all about impenetrable stuff that they don't like. That damn Hemingway with his crazy free verse.”

PeopleCareSchoolLiteratureStuffCrazySacredInstanceDamnVersesModernismMutantsFree VerseSchool Experience
Author:Patrick Nielsen Hayden
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“The poet who writes "free" verse is like Robinson Crusoe on his desert island: he must do all his cooking, laundry and darning for himself. In a few exceptional cases, this manly independence produces something original and impressive, but more often the result is squalor - dirty sheets on the unmade bed and empty bottles on the unswept floor.”

WritingResultsCasesProducePoetBedEmptyOriginalsIndependenceCookingDesertDirtyIslandsBottlesVersesSheetsExceptionalImpressiveManlyLaundryFree VerseSqualorRobinson CrusoeEmpty BottlesUnmade Beds
Author:W. H. Auden
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