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Poems Quotes

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Poems Quotes

“NAOMI, THE GODDESS OF OASIS It was a cool evening when destiny called, Naomi. The call that will revive the hearts of the children of men. Destiny presented herself like a Rose. With thorns that makes the crown. Destiny is beautiful. An enigma of peace that ponder the hearts of men. She adores herself with the blood of motherhood. Smiling in tears and with care she nurtures every soul. She's nature's friend, the waters that pushes with the wind and moves in path with her lings. Her nature is beauty and her songs nourishes the soul of men. Her light illuminates their Hope's and tears are wiped with her smiles. Oh daughter of the great land of Ozoro, the pride of her mother land. The rainbow rose that illuminates the garden of doubts. May your voice sends peace to the wailing hearts. May your day never grow dark on the mornings and may your evening be the time your waistline is with tiring and your love round about you. Great daughter of the forest kingdom. Enigma of royalty. Pride of her love. Queen of the Desert Kingdom. Goddess of Oasis Poem by Victor Vote to Atabeh Rezi. ©️2021 by VVF”

LovePoetryMarriagePoemsHusband And WifeVictor VoteVictor Vote PoemsVictor Vote PoemNaomi Goddess Of Oasis
Author:Victor Vote
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“Creativity is alive And thriving in my body. The energy you bring out in me Is within me infinitely. My power is overflowing. My lips are soft and welcoming To the exhale, The new Braille, The silence that persists After our moans die away, I look at myself and say, "Root down so you can burn. Beautiful girl, it's your turn To create magic within yourself. This time, without his help. Find your roots and find your fire, Be mindful of what you desire, Persist in what you know is true, Stay focused on the endless route Toward your own potential. Allow the existential Void to swallow you whole. Take on your old role: The lone seeker. Become quieter. Become meeker. Become the beauty that you seek. Embody strength if you feel weak. Find love within the walls Of this sacred temple. Let yourself shake and tremble, But keep your eyes ever fixed On the horizon Where it's rising, No revising, Fears capsizing As you sail, sail, sail Toward the wail Of your siren spirit Beckoning you to bloom The flower in your womb, The seed of creativity, Your triumphant legacy." These words, I will carry Within me as I bury Grains of wisdom In the whispers of the wind. And when I arrive To the altar of our origin, I'll be dressed in white and black, And I'll cradle that exact Feeling left on our sheets. And you'll be on your knees, Ready to receive The wholeness of my broken mind, Pried open by The sparkle gleaming in your eyes. And your hands will be full Of supple fruit and you'll Smile at me, and I will see That you have fed your hunger. You'll ooze with courage and wonder. And then, we will know That we've already lost each other A thousand times before. And I have found you As clear water after mud settles. And you have found me As a bee deep in a flower's petals. We have danced before, Pulled art out of each other's spines. We have died and birthed and died. We've already kissed a million times. This wasn't our first five act play, And it will not be the last. So when I thirst for your hands, I will sit and chant. We will meet again. We will meet again.”

LoveInspirationalPoetryRelationshipsHealingSelf LovePoemsSelf Love PoemsHealing Poems
Author:Vironika Tugaleva
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“Listen. Do you see that you can’t hear snowfall? Look. Do you sense that you can’t see love? Touch. Do you grasp that you can’t catch poems? Try. Smell this glass. Go on taste this cloud. These material senses won’t get you far until you feel the velvet glove caress your soul.”

LoveInspirationalSoulInspirationPoetryPoemTasteQuoteSmellSensesPoemsMaterialismLoverLovingLove PoemKamandKojouriFeelKamand KojouriTouchListenSeeSenseTryCaressLookLovedHearCloudGlassMaterialLovesCatchSnowfallGraspGlove
Author:Kamand Kojouri
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“Le mai le joli mai en barque sur le Rhin Des dames regardaient du haut de la montagne Vous êtes si jolies mais la barque s'éloigne Qui donc a fait pleurer les saules riverains Or des vergers fleuris se figeaient en arrière Les pétales tombés des cerisiers de mai Sont les ongles de celle que j'ai tant aimée Les pétales flétris sont comme ses paupières Sur le chemin du bord du fleuve lentement Un ours un singe un chien menés par des tziganes Suivaient une roulotte traînée par un âne Tandis que s'éloignait dans les vignes rhénanes Sur un fifre lointain un air de régiment Le mai le joli mai a paré les ruines De lierre de vigne vierge et de rosiers Le vent du Rhin secoue sur le bord les osiers Et les roseaux jaseurs et les fleurs nues des vignes”

MayPoemsRhine
Book:Alcools
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“Here’s to the “so-so-ing” it. Here’s to the working since I was 14 in a smoke clouded day. Here’s to saying I could stay until the forms were faxed. Here’s to driving home past dark and dozing off the road. Here’s to no over time. Here’s to the long line to management. Here’s to ALREADY DONE THAT! Here’s to quitting, saying I’m through, saying I can’t compete for your leftover lean cuisine. Here’s to art. Here’s to freedom. Here’s to saying God gave me every penny and knowing it’s true. Here’s to the next 40 years with you. Here’s to the new. — Adrianna Stepiano”

ArtChristianPoetryArtistHopeChangeCommunityWorkTrustGiving UpQuittingPoemsWorkplaceCareerAdvancementElevationLife BalanceLife ChangeProof Of ExistencePoems Of Life
Author:Adrianna Stepiano
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“I never have time to write anymore. And when I do I only write about how I never have time. It's work and it's money and I've written more lists than songs lately. I stay up all night to do all these things I need to do, be all these things I want to be, playing with shadows in the darkness that shouldn't be able to exist. Empty bottles and cigarettes while watching the sunrise, why do I complain? I have it all, everything I ever asked for.”

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Book:Empty Roads & Broken Bottles: in search for The Great Perhaps
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“Lavender lilies all dotted with spots. Sun-yellow daffodils clustered in pots. Blue morning-glories climb trellises high. Powder-white asters like stars in the sky. Thick, pink peonies unfold in the sun. Winter adieu now that spring has begun.”

PoetrySpringRichelle GoodrichPoemsRichelle E GoodrichFlowersSpringtimeSpring Poetry
Book:Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year
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“Love is not a sentence. It is a pattern. You can whisper it with your mouth, or you can prove it with your habits. Show me in the way you protect what matters. Show me in the way you keep your word. Show me in the way you choose me when it is inconvenient. Do not decorate me with promises. Demonstrate me with consistency. If you love me, let it be visible in your discipline. Let it be evident in your restraint. Let it be obvious in how you love yourself. Because the way you care for your own soul is the blueprint for how you will care for mine. Do not say it. Build it.”

Love QuotesRelationship QuotesPoemsMarion Bekoe QuotesLove PoemsCouples QuotesLove Poems Poetry RomanceMarion Bekoe Poems
Author:Marion Bekoe
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“They say opposites attract, but I disagree. I have worked too hard on myself to attract anything that is not aligned with who I am. I put God first, always. My family is my foundation. My businesses are where my creativity and intelligence shine. My order is simple and unwavering: God, Family, Business. I am happy with myself and with my life. I am at peace with who I am and who I am becoming. I am highly ambitious, and I get things done the right way. I do my best to make the path easier for others than it was for me. I have a heart, and I choose to use it. I refuse to attract my opposite because I have worked on myself. I respect myself too much to accept anything less. And by grace, I attracted you. Because you are aligned with me. You are like me.”

Love QuotesPoemsMarion BekoeMarion Bekoe QuotesLove PoemsOpposites AttractAmbition QuotesMarion Bekoe PoemsGod Poems
Author:Marion Bekoe
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“sometimes i feel more like a house than a person with the way i decorate my body and my face to hide damaged walls and empty spaces; my heart is more like a door with changed locks because i've made multiple keys for people who walked all over me with filthy shoes, people who said they could live here, but they were just passing through. i hope my eyes are not windows, because i fear what the world might see— all of my flaws and insecurities on display like a coffee table or some shoddy love seat. sometimes i swear i left the oven on and forgot because my mind feels like a smoke detector with the way my apprehension never calms. i smell smoke, but i can't see it; i'm told things are never as bad as i make them, but every wildfire starts with a spark and it's easy to burn when you're a house made of straw.”

PoetryMental IllnessPoemsDepression QuotesAnxiety QuotesSad PoetrySad PoemDepression Poem
Book:melancholia in the milky way
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“If you were not so gentle, If you were hard to please, If you were never patient And always ill at ease, If you were far from humble, If you could not forgive, If all you did was grumble And curse the life you live, If you were irreligious, If you were not composed, If you were quite ignoble, If you had not proposed, If you were daft as killdeer, If you were less than kind, If you were proud and pushy, I’d pay you little mind. And never would I ever Call you Valentine. But you are kind and gentle, So patiently at ease. You’re gracious, sweet, and humble. Not ever hard to please. You evince faith and service; They dictate how you live. Good will along with mercy Allow you to forgive. Despite the trials and heartaches, You count your blessings all. Despite the miles between us, Persistently you call. The gestures of affection. The compliments so kind. The selfless acts of service Endear you in my mind. And that, my dear, is why I Call you Valentine.”

Richelle GoodrichPoemsRichelle E GoodrichValentinePoetry BooksValentines DayValentine Poem
Book:A Heart Made of Tissue Paper
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“I write poems. I'm often laughed at for doing so. My friends and foes, who were born in 1980's or even later aren't savvy with this concept of the reading and writing poems. They're probably not at fault because while they were being brought up in their respective environments, they weren't really taught how to appreciate poetry. Sadly, those same indifferent souls are now raising their children in the same robotic way, keeping them away from an art form as pure as poetry. Anyway, on the path my life, my poems, written and unwritten, are spread throughout like breadcrumbs. Alas! I'm savouring these breadcrumbs alone because no one has chosen to walk by me, maybe because they're skeptic about the taste of these crumbs. They've hypothetically assumed that these crumbs, these poems are bitter. Sigh! They aren't courageous enough to gather the strength to actually taste them. Perhaps this way, the real sweetness of my crumbs, of my poems stays obscured to them. But I haven't let them crush this sweetness beneath their feet and that's why, I've chosen to walk alone instead. How can I not savour these crumbs if I already know that they're leading me to the apex of my life? How can I not write poems if a voice inside me is constantly pecking my hands to give it a form? This voice is my meditation. This voice is my shadow, a shadow which is stubborn enough to remain intact even when I'll be gone. This voice is my concrete, the concrete that I'm made up of. This voice is my power, the power that will shake your senses. This voice is my poetry.”

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Author:Supriya Kaur Dhaliwal
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“Two to Seven" Even though we are far apart, our hearts are close. I can feel the sadness and joy of the person I love. In the year and hour they were born, my mission gained true meaning. The love is felt deep inside. When I see that special person, I know I need to show up. We are both at the seven doors, a symbol that our love will continue. I am myself, and they are themselves. Even if the years change, we will remain the same, at the time we decided and planned. Even if not everything happens as planned, we continue to dream.Because true love is embraced by those who dare to dream.For the TWO of us, towards the SEVEN doors. - Aron Micko H.B”

Love QuotesDreamsSevenTrue LoveLove StoryPoemsTrue
Book:Nerdy Man's Bottled Love
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“Sound. Noise the air employs. Melodies sweet. Tweet, tweet, tweet. Soft. Loud. A roaring crowd. Cluck. Caw. Crow. Tet, tet. Tis, tis. Guttural growl. Harrowing howl. Drip, drip, drip. Tap, tap, tap. Moan and groan. Endless drone. Ding, dang, dong. A church bell song. Vibrations in my ear to hear. Sound.”

PoetrySoundPoemHearingNoiseRichelle GoodrichPoemsRichelle E GoodrichRichelleNoises
Book:Slaying Dragons: Quotes, Poetry, & a Few Short Stories for Every Day of the Year
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