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Poem Quotes

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Poem Quotes

“Colonizers write about flowers. I tell you about children throwing rocks at Israeli tanks seconds before becoming daisies. I want to be like those poets who care about the moon. Palestinians don’t see the moon from jail cells and prisons. It’s so beautiful, the moon. They’re so beautiful, the flowers. I pick flowers for my dead father when I’m sad. He watches Al Jazeera all day. I wish Jessica would stop texting me Happy Ramadan. I know I’m American because when I walk into a room something dies. Metaphors about death are for poets who think ghosts care about sound. When I die, I promise to haunt you forever. One day, I’ll write about the flowers like we own them.”

WarDeathPoetryBeautyPoemTraumaGenocidePoetsColonization
Author:Noor Hindi
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“I drove all the way to Cape Disappointment but didn't have the energy to get out of the car. Rental. Blue Ford Focus. I had to stop in a semi-public place to pee on the ground. Just squatted there on the roadside. I don't know what's up with my bladder. I pee and then I have to pee and pee again. Instead of sightseeing I climbed into the back seat of the car and took a nap. I'm a little like Frank O'Hara without the handsome nose and penis and New York School and Larry Rivers. Paid for a day pass at Cape Disappointment thinking hard about that long drop from the lighthouse to the sea. Thought about going into the Ocean Medical Center for a checkup but how do I explain this restless search for beauty or relief?”

PoetryBeautyPoemIllnessReliefSightseeing
Book:frank: sonnets
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“Immigration is learning to stretch into a bridge, backward and forward, one limb in each place, learning to hold tight to traditions and customs and names and memories in one hand, and with the other hand let go and lean in to a place you hope will see you for all the beauty that you bring.”

PoetryMemoriesBeautyPoemImmigrationCustomsPossibilitiesStretchingTraditionsBridging
Book:Woke: A Young Poet's Call to Justice
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“One weekend it rained for 48 hours without stopping. The rain beat like bony fingers against the window panes. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Fungus was growing on the walls. I polished off a bottle of gin sitting huddled over the two-bar electric fire and wrote a poem, one of the few that has lasted through the moves and the years. It is called 'Where Can I Go?' If this is not the place where tears are understood where do I go to cry? If this is not the place where my spirits can take wing where do I go to fly? If this is not the place where my feelings can be heard where do I go to speak? If this is not the place where you’ll accept me as I am where can I go to be me? If this is not the place where I can try and learn and grow where can I go to laugh and cry?”

SadnessCryAcceptancePoemDepressionMental HealthRejectionLearnAlcoholismAnorexiaAlcoholicAnorexicAnoretic
Book:Today I'm Alice: Nine Personalities, One Tortured Mind
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“Apology I didn't mean to say so much to you. I should have thought to let the evening end by looking at the stars subdued into their antique blue and alabaster hues. Such looking would have fit with my intent. I didn't mean to speak that way to you. If I could take it back, I'd take it, undo it, and replace it with the things I meant to give—not what I let slip (it's true) like any pristine star of ornamental hue. I do not always do what I intend. I didn't mean to say so much to you. It slipped before I saw, before I knew. Or do we always do what we intend? Perhaps it's true and all along I knew what I was saying—but how I wanted you. I should have thought to let the evening end. The placid stars seemed filled and then subdued by what I did and did not want to do.”

PoetryStarsPoemSadGrantedApologyMary Szybist
Book:Granted
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“O My Stars by Stewart Stafford Sweet stars of my youth I have aged, but you have not As a child, you were the wondrous dreams I aspired to In later life, you were still so bitterly distant Yet always mesmeric in your beauty With awe and gratitude for your companionship If there is another side, you shall be the celestial shore I walk upon With earthly depths beneath Where others see and dream and reach up for you. © Stewart Stafford, 2020. All rights reserved.”

PoetryStarsSpacePoemAstronomyAspirationPoemsReaching For The StarsReach For The StarsTimeless Beauty
Author:Stewart Stafford
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“To — In vision I roamed the flashing Firmament, So fierce in blazon that the Night waxed wan, As though with awe at orbs of such ostént; And as I thought my spirit ranged on and on In footless traverse through ghast heights of sky, To the last chambers of the monstrous Dome, Where stars the brightest here are lost to the eye: Then, any spot on our own Earth seemed Home! And the sick grief that you were far away Grew pleasant thankfulness that you were near, Who might have been, set on some foreign Sphere, Less than a Want to me, as day by day I lived unware, uncaring all that lay Locked in that Universe taciturn and drear.”

PoetryStarsWonderPoemAstronomyAwe
Author:Thomas Hardy
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“I am nothing but oxygen and hydrogen, A luminous sphere of plasma Held together by helium and gravity, And like a balloon I float on earth, Waiting to be released back into the sky, Waiting to go back in the reverse Direction from which I came, Traveling through a warm tunnel of light, And out into a cold, dark abyss Where I will explode into a thousand pieces. I shall leave behind my body, Just like air abandons the skin of a shattered balloon, And the magnetic dust that carries my Heart and spirit will lift us back To congregate and shine With the stars. Home again, In the fluorescent Kingdom of the constellations, I will once again be called by My soul’s true name. And my heart, It will flicker again, With every memory from its many Lifetimes, And with every wish Made by a child. SONG OF THE STAR by Suzy Kassem”

DeathSongWishStarsPoemReincarnationRebirthStarEulogy
Book:Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem
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“SONG OF THE STAR I am nothing but oxygen and hydrogen, A luminous sphere of plasma Held together by helium and gravity, And like a balloon I float on earth, Waiting to be released back into the sky, Waiting to go back in the reverse Direction from which I came, Traveling through a warm tunnel of light, And out into a cold, dark abyss Where I will explode into a thousand pieces. I shall leave behind my body, Just like air abandons the skin of a shattered balloon, And the magnetic dust that carries my Heart and spirit will lift us back To congregate and shine With the stars. Home again, In the fluorescent Kingdom of the constellations, I will once again be called by My soul’s true name. And my heart, It will flicker again, With every memory from its many Lifetimes, And with every wish Made by a child. SONG OF THE STAR by Suzy Kassem Copyright 1993”

SoulSpiritualityStarsPoemReincarnationStar Poem
Book:Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem
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“You whom my body longs for, where are you? In the stars, in the river, over the rainbow? Perhaps you hide in the shadows of the mountains, whistling in the wind through mighty peaks Just maybe you are in every corner of my being awaiting invocation Ô Manna Breath fill my life with your infinite power”

LifeSoulPoetrySpiritualityStarsPoemCosmicRainbowMetaphysicsMind Body SpiritMountainsRiverMind Body Connection
Book:Twilight Zone Encounters
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“I am looking at this shiny star tonight, Wishing wishes could come true... I wonder if by any chance, He sees the same star too!! The overwhelming darkness tickles the lonely heart tonight, I wonder if he sees the star I am watching, May be he would stand within its light! There are many miles between us, but still our souls can meet... At this point when we look at this star together, May be our hearts could find their beat! Don't you feel the need for someone to come, Into your life... I am wishing for the same thing, As I watch this star tonight! This gentle light on my face, Cheers and comforts and holds me tight... I wonder if by some chance, I find you holding me with love and sitting by my side! But this remains a wish as he is still unseen and unknown, I wonder who he might be, to whom I would be prone! A hopeless or born romantic, Everyone is searching for true love, Wishing wishes in the darkness, To this magical star that hangs above!”

LoveRomanceStarsPoemWishesLove PoemLove Poems Poetry Romance
Author:Anamika Mishra
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