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Inspirational Poetry Quotes

Browse 16 quotes about Inspirational Poetry.

Inspirational Poetry Quotes

“Ain’t No Sinner (The Sonnet) When we think ourselves weak, We become weak. When we think ourselves sinner, We become sinner most meek. Yes we are fundamentally cruel and divisionistic, Yes the evil in us is stronger than our good. That's because our ancestors survived through cruelty, They didn't have much scope to practice their good. But we ain’t our ancestors in our way of life, We don’t have to watch out for predators in every bush. Then why do we still behave like predators ourselves, Why don’t we break this tribalistic tradition of ambush! No more cruelty either on ourselves or on those around! Embolden your backbone into a fountain of kinship unbound.”

“Handcrafted Humanity Sonnet 7 Give, give and give again, To give without reserve is living. Fall, fall and fall again, To fall without stopping is rising. Break, break and break again, To break without bending is integrity. Lose, lose and lose again, To lose without submitting is victory. Love, love and love again, To love despite being fooled is sanity. Help, help and help again, To help despite being deceived is humanity. To give is to live, that is the civilized normal. Kindness alone sets the human apart from animal.”

“The Ascending Eagle by Stewart Stafford I shall not stray down spurious alleys, In pursuit of such desiccated husks, To be a leaf adrift in vacuous air, Bewildered on my windswept path. Past the labyrinth of rustling choices, Swirl fragments of doubt and error. Life's force is a finite magic spark, Some squander before they depart, When climbing into our grave pits, Twisted wreckage we leave behind. Yet, in regret's deepening shades, Lie orphans of our broken dreams. The eagle, in cerulean-skied flight, Took wing as a frightened chick, Victory plucked from disaster's beak, Trial and error are brick-tough fellows. Guided by shimmering thermals below, Soaring to its future beyond the horizon. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

“Dear Father in Heaven, I thank thee this day for blessings and mercies thou sendest my way. I thank thee for comfort ‘mid thunderous storms. I cling to thy good word when life feels forlorn. I ask for enough strength to bear life’s assaults. I pray thou wilt forgive my weakness and faults. Dear Father in Heaven, be mindful of all. Please teach us to follow thy counsel and call. And when life has taught us to love and to give, I pray, Heavenly Father, with thee we might live.”

“Impostor Times by Stewart Stafford When dark forces mask your eyes Happiness, a distant beacon dream Hope approaches your warming fire Enjoy a toast, before flavours teem Each pillar of truth, now a traitor to you Motherland cut in mercenary march Bonfires of blood in purification rage Cuckoos in the nest, gloat in the larch Rebel droplets, merge into roaring flood Abort the tyrant's myriad bastard heirs Expel the puppets to the unyielding sea Birthplace restored as the patriot dares © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.”

“Handcrafted Humanity Sonnet 12 Here are some words born of narrowness, Activist, woke, religious, atheist, Socialist, communist, capitalist, conservative, Intellectual, intelligent, classy, elitist, Educated, learned, well-versed, sound-mind, Traditional, old-fashioned, spiritual, altruistic, Empiricist, Existentialist, rationalist, freethinker, Godly, compassionate, selfless and mystic. I refuse to be defined by any of them, None of them can explain my true sentiment. I may advocate for the good within each of them, But I refuse to give any of them exclusive endorsement. All these words are too puny to define my identity. My name is human, my heart contains entire humanity.”

“The Working Song by Breton Braley Oh, we're sick to death of the style of song That's only a sort of a simpering song, A kissy song and a sissy song Or a weepy, creepy, whimpering song. So give us a lift of a lusty song, A boisterous, bubbling, boiling song, Or a smashing song and a dashing song, Oh, give us the tang of a toiling song, The chanty loud of the working crowd, The thunderous thrall of a toiling song! Ay, sing us a joyous daring song, Not a moaning, groaning, fretting song, But a ringing song, and a swinging song, A rigorous, vigorous, sweating song. We have had enough of the gypsy song, Which is only a lazy, shirking song, So toughen your throat to a rougher note And give us the tune of a working song, A tune of strife and the joy of life, The beat and throb of a working song!”

“God's Grand Weather Machine by Stewart Stafford Some say: 'Send storm clouds back to sender; Into God's omnipotent weather machine.' Let them come, I say, and cleanse me, Reborn for the second time as a teen. Improvising with nature's gifted props; Perspective in motion, despite the scene, To go without sleep for fear of nightmares? Insomniac strike - we're dreamers, not the dream. Skies beyond our grasp caress down; As raindrop punctuation marks careen, Spin your watery partner on the floor, Absent of weather critics venting spleen. Thunderous applause greets our every move, Hoping lightning's ovation strikes the forest trees. We shuffle and shimmy as sky spray slicks steps, Dancing to judges' scorecards of degrees. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”