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Poem Quotes

Browse 3721 quotes about Poem.

Poem Quotes

“A rat done bit my sister Nell With whitey on the moon Her face and arms began to swell And whitey's on the moon I can't pay no doctor bills But whitey's on the moon Ten years from now I'll be payin' still While whitey's on the moon The man just upped my rent last night Cause whitey's on the moon No hot water, no toilets, no lights But whitey's on the moon I wonder why he's upping me? Cause whitey's on the moon? Well I was already giving him fifty a week With whitey on the moon Taxes taking my whole damn check Junkies making me a nervous wreck The price of food is going up And as if all that shit wasn't enough: A rat done bit my sister Nell With whitey on the moon Her face and arm began to swell And whitey's on the moon Was all that money I made last year For whitey on the moon? How come I ain't got no money here? Hmm! Whitey's on the moon Y'know I just 'bout had my fill Of whitey on the moon I think I'll send these doctor bills Airmail special To whitey on the moon.”

“C10 (or the king's carolers – from student times) on the side stairway, we gather in the evening, many the cold cement steps welcome us as if we were the king's carolers we have mulled wine and dry snacks the orange guitar stretches and warps in the candlelight we take another drag from the cigarette, nibble on sticks and salty biscuits happiness pricks our veins with Burmese nails One floor below, behind the door 'Mr. Blues - Don't Disturb' the tasty rot of jazz caresses our toes We sin in thought, our minds dangling from the railing later, the Serbs come to sing with us Golden-haired like gods from a bombed country we scratch the wall with our nails, don’t know what to say they bring us wafers with fruits and chocolate wrapped in green foil the second evening we gather again on the side stairway with the same mulled wine and dry snacks and the same us the old rockers hanging heavy on the guitar’s body at the midnight office.”

“I want to make you mine, not just in whispered promises, not just in silent prayers, but in the life we build, brick by brick, hand in hand. But my hands empty, searching grasp only air where security should be. Not because I do not try, not because I do not dream, but because the world demands more than love alone. I am not afraid of struggle. I am not ashamed of waiting. But I fear the days slipping, the distance stretching, the time that asks me, "When?" when I have no answer yet. I do not want to come to you with only poetry in my pockets, with only love in my voice. I want to bring you a future, solid as the ground beneath our feet, safe as the home I will build for us. So I walk forward, step by step, fight by fight, knowing that one day, when I stand before you, it won’t just be as a lover but as the man who kept his promise.”

“7 Angry Men A few gentlemen, occupy a room They laugh and talk and gossip and croon Whatever they do, they do in unison Until it was time to leave, for the night is done The first agonized, with rain but no cover The second agathed over the fallen quarter The third in a hurry, stubbed his toe The shriek he incurred, woke those below The fourth, drunk enough, walked but failed The fifth, nonchalant about his car being towed The sixth, why, he can't leave Until everyone is gone, and hands over the keys! Seven angry men, They reside in a room Last one, you ask? Ah, beware - it might just be you”

“THE EYE OF TIME The eye of time has witnessed countless spectacles, Every joy bound to wounds, a profound connection tangible. Dreams extinguished in silence, unseen by all, Desires crumbling as wishes at their side would fall. Time played its games in the theater of existence, Love defeated, while hatred found persistence. Hearts became desolate in mere moments, Helplessness weeping at the doorstep of life's torments. The eye of time could never grasp this mystery, Why behind every smile lurks sorrow's misery. Yet this heart, for centuries, has asked again, Why does darkness follow when light remains?”

“The Winter Miles The roads of solitude grow whiter,
And stones beneath us paler,
While the green fades completely —
Ahead of us. Grey is the sombre tone we keep,
While wandering along the street
That becomes our destiny —
With each step. Our knees fall into the snow; The trembling stops at last, Here our souls will find eternal rest — In silent grace. -Laura Chouette”

“Christmas Hyacinths The air grows cleaner with each sight
Of words - silver and clear -
Without heaviness and sighs. Winter closes in on each street,
That familiar place we haunted to keep,
While we hope to seek the dearest near. Frozen blossoms in trembling hands,
With shadows of blue and grey,
Counting footsteps back into the heat. The emptiness of many
Is returned in ink and choirs,
With doubt and cherish,
Crowned with blessings all around.”

“I hear the train’d soprano (what work with hers is this?) The orchestra whirls me wider than Uranus flies, It wrenches such ardors from me I did not know I possess’d them, It sails me, I dab with bare feet, they are lick’d by the indolent waves, I am cut by bitter and angry hail, I lose my breath, Steep’d amid honey’d morphine, my windpipe throttled in fakes of death, At length let up again to feel the puzzle of puzzles, And that we call Being.”