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Poem Quotes

“In Summation A poem by Taylor Swift At this hearing I stand before my fellow members of the Tortured Poets Department With a summary of my findings A debrief, a detailed rewinding For the purpose of warning For the sake of reminding As you might all unfortunately recall I had been struck with a case of a restricted humanity Which explains my plea here today of temporary i n s a n i t y You see, the pendulum swings Oh, the chaos it brings Leads the caged beast to do the most curious things Lovers spend years denying what’s ill fated Resentment rotting away galaxies we created Stars placed and glued meticulously by hand next to the ceiling fan Tried wishing on comets. Tried dimming the shine. Tried to orbit his planet. Some stars never align. And in one conversation, I tore down the whole sky Spring sprung forth with dazzling freedom hues Then a crash from the skylight bursting through Something old, someone hallowed, who told me he could be brand new And so I was out of the oven and into the microwave Out of the slammer and into a tidal wave How gallant to save the empress from her gilded tower Swinging a sword he could barely lift But loneliness struck at that fateful hour Low hanging fruit on his wine stained lips He never even scratched the surface of me. None of them did. “In summation, it was not a love affair!” I screamed while bringing my fists to my coffee ringed desk It was a mutual manic phase. It was self harm. It was house and then cardiac arrest. A smirk creeps onto this poet’s face Because it’s the worst men that I write best. And so I enter into evidence My tarnished coat of arms My muses, acquired like bruises My talismans and charms The tick, tick, tick of love bombs My veins of pitch black ink All’s fair in love and poetry Sincerely, The Chairman of The Tortured Poets Department”

PoemEpilogueThe Tortured Poets DepartmentTtpd
Author:Taylor Swift
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“I have studied many times The marble which was chiseled for me— A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor. In truth it pictures not my destination But my life. For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment; Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid; Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances. Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life. And now I know that we must lift the sail And catch the winds of destiny Wherever they drive the boat. To put meaning in one’s life may end in madness, But life without meaning is the torture Of restlessness and vague desire— It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.”

InspirationalPoem
Author:Edgar Lee Masters
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“در آبهای سبز تابستان تنها تر از یک برگ با بار شادی های مهجورم در آب های سبز تابستان آرام می رانم تا سرزمین مرگ تا ساحل غم های پاییزی در سایه ای خود را رها کردم در سایه بی اعتبار عشق در سایه فرار خوشبختی در سایه ناپایداری ها شبها که میچرخد نسیمی گیج در آسمان کوته دلتنگ شبها که می پیچد مهی خونین در کوچه های آبی رگها شبها که تنهاییم با رعشه های روحمان تنها در ضربه های نبض می جوشد احساس هستی هستی بیمار در انتظار دره ها رازیست این را به روی قله های کوه بر سنگهای سهمگین کندند آنها که در خطوط سقوط خویش یک شب سکوت کوهساران را از التماسی تلخ کندند در اضطراب دستهای پر آرامش دستان خالی نیست خاموشی ویرانه ها زیباست این را زنی در آبها می خواند در آبهای سبز تابستان گویی که در ویرانه ها می زیست ما یکدیگر را با نفسهامان آلوده می سازیم آلوده تقوای خوشبختی ما از صدای باد می ترسیم ما از نفوذ سایه های شک در باغهای بوسه هامان رنگ می بازیم ما در تمام میهمانی های قصر نور از وحشت آواز می لرزیم کنون تو اینجایی گسترده چون عطر اقاقی ها در کوچه های صبح بر سینه ام سنگین در دستهایم داغ در گیسوانم رفته از خود سوخته مدهوش کنون تو اینجایی چیزی وسیع و تیره و انبوه چیزی مشوش چون صدای دوردست روز بر مردمک های پریشانم می چرخد و می گسترد خود را شاید مرا از چشمه می گیرند شاید مرا از شاخه می چیندد شاید مرا مثل دری بر لحظه های بعد می بندند شاید ... دیگر نمی بینم ما برزمینی هرزه روییدیم ما بر زمینی هرزه می باریم ما هیچ را در راهها دیدیم بر اسب زرد بالدار خویش چون پادشاهی راه می پیمود افسوس ما خوشبخت و آرامیم افسوس ما دلتنگ و خاموشیم خوشبخت زیرا دوست می داریم دلتنگ زیرا عشق نفرینیست”

Poem
Author:Forough Farrokhzad
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“Go from me, summer friends, and tarry not: I am no summer friend, but wintry cold, A silly sheep benighted from the fold, A sluggard with a thorn-choked garden plot. Take counsel, sever from my lot your lot, Dwell in your pleasant places, hoard your gold; Lest you with me should shiver on the wold, Athirst and hungering on a barren spot. For I have hedged me with a thorny hedge, I live alone, I look to die alone: Yet sometimes, when a wind sighs through the sedge, Ghosts of my buried years, and friends come back, My heart goes sighing after swallows flown On sometime summer’s unreturning track.”

PoemSeparationMelancholyRossetti
Author:Christina Rossetti
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“Sing a song of suspense in which the players die. Four and twenty ravens in an Edgar Allan Pie. When the pie was broken, the ravens couldn't sing. Their throats had been sliced open by Stephen, the new King. The King was in his writing house, stifling a laugh While his queen was in a tizzy of her bloody Lovecraft. When the dead maid got the garden for her rank as royal whore, King's shovel made it double and he married nevermore.”

HumorPoemHorrorPoe
Author:Jessica McHugh
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“The Last Leaf I saw him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets, And looks at all he meets Sad and wan, And he shakes his feeble head, That it seems as if he said, "They are gone." The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has prest In their bloom, And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb. My grandmamma has said Poor old lady, she is dead Long ago That he had a Roman nose, And his cheek was like a rose In the snow; But now his nose is thin, And it rests upon his chin Like a staff, And a crook is in his back, And a melancholy crack In his laugh. I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here; But the old three-cornered hat, And the breeches, and all that, Are so queer! And if I should live to be The last leaf upon the tree In the spring, Let them smile, as I do now, At the old forsaken bough Where I cling.”

PoemThe Last Leaf
Author:Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.
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“A Book I Can Put Down I’m halfway through and I’ve gotten used to the way it wants to be read. This writer wants to spoon it up, wants to watch me swallow it. This writer makes a point of good deeds, clean living, god and country, when what I want is sin and shame, the rusty metal edge of cruelty, varieties of pain, his mother still crying years later, just like mine. I want a writer who’s given up on the moral of the story, one who’ll hand me a knife and sit back to see what I do with it. (Published in Anderbo)”

Poem
Author:Antonia Clark
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“تورا من چشم درراهم شباهنگام... تورا من چشم درراهم شباهنگام/ که میگیرند درشاخ "تلاجن" سایه ها رنگ سیاهی/وزان دل خستگانت راست اندوهی فراهم؛/تورامن چشم درراهم/ شباهنگام، درآن دم، که برجا، دره ها چون مرده ماران خفتگان اند؛/درآن نوبت که بندد دست نیلوفر به پای سروکوهی دام،/گرَم یادآوری یانه، من ازیادت نمی کاهم؛/ تورا من چشم درراهم. علی اسفندیاری(نیما یوشیج)”

Poem
Author:نیما یوشیج
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“You can Lose a child Or a parent, The love of your life, A good job, A game, A deal, A bet, An idea, Your favorite thing, Money, Your best friend, A moment, An opportunity, A chance, Your keys, Your mind, Your health, Your identity, Your virginity, Your religion, Your shirt, Your license, ID or Passport, Phone or phone number, Hope, Faith, Luck, Your pride, Or your house, And feel like You've lost everything, And keep on losing. Stop Counting losses And start counting your blessings. Only then, Will you discover that losses Are easier to point out And count Than blessings, And that blessings Outnumber your losses For they are truly Immeasurable. It is only normal that People count losses with Their minds, And ignore To count blessings With the graciousness Of their hearts.”

GratitudePoemLessonsLosingGratefulBlessingsGraciousHeartsSuzy KassemLosses
Book:Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem
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“Fox-Trot By the stream the fox and she-fox stood Nose to nose beneath the stars Dancing the music of the woods. The deer rapped a beat with their hooves, The ravens sang from raven hearts As by the stream the fox and she-fox stood. The great owl called as a great owl would, The squirrels all shimmied in the dark, Dancing the music of the woods. Then from the north a fierce wind blew And broke the starry dance apart By the stream where the fox and she-fox stood.”

Poem
Book:Undercover
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“All day the stars watch from long ago my mother said I am going now when you are alone you will be all right whether or not you know you will know look at the old house in the dawn rain all the flowers are forms of water the sun reminds them through a white cloud touches the patchwork spread on the hill the washed colors of the afterlife that lived there long before you were born see how they wake without a question even though the whole world is burning”

PoetryPoemMothersBeing Alone
Book:The Shadow of Sirius
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“Yo no me callo Perdone el ciudadano esperanzado mi recuerdo de acciones miserables, que levantan los hombres del pasado. Yo predico un amor inexorable. Y no me importa perro ni persona: sólo el pueblo es en mí considerable: sólo la Patria a mí me condiciona. Pueblo y Patria manejan mi cuidado: Patria y pueblo destinan mis deberes y si logran matar lo levantado por el pueblo, es mi Patria la que muere. Es ése mi temor y mi agonía. Por eso en el combate nadie espere que se quede sin voz mi poesía.”

Poem
Author:Pablo Neruda
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“As men talk in a dream, so Corinth all, Throughout her palaces imperial, And all her populous streets and temples lewd, Mutter'd, like tempest in the distance brew'd, To the wide-spreaded night above her towers. Men, women, rich and poor, in the cool hours, Shuffled their sandals o'er the pavement white, Companion'd or alone; while many a light Flared, here and there, from wealthy festivals, And threw their moving shadows on the walls, Or found them cluster'd in the corniced shade Of some arch'd temple door, or dusky colonnade.”

PoemCrowdJohn KeatsLamiaCorinto
Book:Lamia
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“As a perfume doth remain In the folds where it hath lain, So the thought of you, remaining Deeply folded in my brain, Will not leave me; all things leave me - You remain. Other thoughts may come and go, Other moments I may know That shall waft me, in their going, As a breath blown to and fro, Fragrant memories; fragrant memories Come and go. Only thoughts of you remain In my heart where they have lain, Perfumed thoughts of you, remaining, A hid sweetness, in my brain. Others leave me; all things leave me - You remain.”

PoemYou Remain
Author:Arthur Symons
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“Poem of the day 1. nóvember 2010: Tunglskin Og vatnið starir, starir köldum augum á stirndan himin yfir bleikum tindum. Og inn í dalnum dökkir skuggar trjánna við dapra geilsa tunglsins stíga dans. Og yfir sandinn, langar óraleiðir, lýsir tunglið spor þín, þreytti maður, og bregður köldum, annarlegum glampa á andlit þitt. Ég sé þig hverfa, hverfa inn í skuggann. Og yfir öllu vakir þögnin - þögnin.”

PoemIceland
Author:Steinn Steinarr
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“Biar! tak kau ingat lampu-lampu yang menyihir kita menjadi orang yang mentertawakan dunia. tak kau ingat keringat meleleh di langkah kaki, di punggung, kening, menantang matahari! menunggingkan pantat ke muka-muka orang-orang yang dipuja sebagai dewa! o, engkau telah membunuh kenangan demikian cepat. seperti kulindas kecoak dengan ujung sepatuku. perutnya yang memburai, putih, mata yang keluar dari kepala, masih bergerak-gerak. aku menjadi pembunuh. seperti dirimu. demikian telengas. tanpa belas. kepada kenangan. biar. jika kau tak mau temani. biar kurasakan nyeri sendiri. di puncak sepiku sendiri!”

Poem
Author:Nanang Suryadi
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“Leviathan" Truth also is the pursuit of it: Like happiness, and it will not stand. Even the verse begins to eat away In the acid. Pursuit, pursuit; A wind moves a little, Moving in a circle, very cold. How shall we say? In ordinary discourse— We must talk now. I am no longer sure of the words, The clockwork of the world. What is inexplicable Is the ‘preponderance of objects.’ The sky lights Daily with that predominance And we have become the present. We must talk now. Fear Is fear. But we abandon one another.”

TruthPoetryTalkingPoemConversation
Book:New Collected Poems
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“I care for you, darling, I love you, the only reason I fucked L. is because you fucked Z. and then I fucked R. and you fucked N. and because you fucked N. I had to fuck Y. But I think of you constantly, I feel you here in my belly like a baby, love I'd call it, no matter what happens I'd call it love, and so you fucked C. and then before I could move you fucked W., so I had to fuck D. But I want you to know that I love you, I think of you constantly, I don't think I've ever loved anybody like I love you.”

LoveLifePoetryPoemDramaCheatingInfidelityI Love YouFuckingFuckedFucked Up Love
Book:Play the Piano Drunk Like a Percussion Instrument Until the Fingers Begin to Bleed a Bit
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“Twas a sheep not a lamb that strayed away In the parable Jesus told, A grown-up sheep that strayed away From the ninety and nine in the fold. And why for the sheep should we seek And earnestly hope and pray? Because there is danger when sheep go wrong; They lead the lambs astray. Lambs will follow the sheep, you know, Wherever the sheep may stray. When sheep go wrong, it won’t take long Til the lambs are as wrong as they. And so with the sheep we earnestly plead For the sake of the lambs today, For when sheep are lost, what a terrible cost The lambs will have to pay!”

Poem
Author:C.C. Miller
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“Mark but this flea, and mark in this, How little that which thou deniest me is; Me it sucked first, and now sucks thee, And in this flea our two bloods mingled be; Thou know’st that this cannot be said A sin, or shame, or loss of maidenhead, Yet this enjoys before it woo, And pampered swells with one blood made of two, And this, alas, is more than we would do. Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare, Where we almost, nay more than married are. This flea is you and I, and this Our mariage bed and mariage temple is; Though parents grudge, and you, we are met, And cloisterd in these living walls of jet. Though use make you apt to kill me, Let not to that, self-murder added be, And sacrilege, three sins in killing three. Cruel and sudden, hast thou since Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence? Wherein could this flea guilty be, Except in that drop which it sucked from thee? Yet thou triumph’st, and say'st that thou Find’st not thy self, nor me the weaker now; ’Tis true; then learn how false, fears be: Just so much honor, when thou yield’st to me, Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.”

PoemSonnetThe FleaJohn DonneSongs And Sonnets
Author:John Donne
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