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Poetry Quotes

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Poetry Quotes

“Matins You want to know how I spend my time? I walk the front lawn, pretending to be weeding. You ought to know I'm never weeding, on my knees, pulling clumps of clover from the flower beds: in fact I'm looking for courage, for some evidence my life will change, though it takes forever, checking each clump for the symbolic leaf, and soon the summer is ending, already the leaves turning, always the sick trees going first, the dying turning brilliant yellow, while a few dark birds perform their curfew of music. You want to see my hands? As empty now as at the first note. Or was the point always to continue without a sign?”

PoetryChangeCouragePoemWeeding
Book:The Wild Iris
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“How hard it is, to be forced to the conclusion that people should be, nine tenths of the time, left alone! - When there is that in me that longs for absolute commitment. One of the poem-ideas I had was that one could respect only the people who knew that cups had to be washed up and put away after drinking, and knew that a Monday of work follows a Sunday in the water meadows, and that old age with its distorting-mirror memories follows youth and its raw pleasures, but that it's quite impossible to love such people, for what we want in love is release from our beliefs, not confirmation in them. That is where the 'courage of love' comes in - to have the courage to commit yourself to something you don't believe, because it is what - for the moment, anyway - thrills your by its audacity. (Some of the phrasing of this is odd, but it would make a good poem if it had any words...)”

LovePoetryCourageYouth
Book:Philip Larkin: Letters to Monica
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“At the age of 18 I know my color is not warning, but a welcome. A girl of color is a lighthouse, an ultraviolet ray of power, potential, and promise My color does not mean caution, it means courage my dark does not mean danger, it means daring, my brown does not mean broken, it means bold backbone from working twice as hard to get half as far. Being a girl of color means I am key, path, and wonder all in one body.”

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Author:Amanda Gorman
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“It’s going to be okay. It might not feel like it right now, but pain eventually subsides as time goes on. Your heart will resurrect from the sadness. You will start seeing in color. You will smile ear to ear again. Music will awaken your soul. The sun will give you strength, and the stars will remind you that miracles continue to exist. Joy always returns, so please hang on. You will feel goosebumps on your arms, and shivers down your spine. Your pupils will dilate, and your heart will race a million miles a minute. Be patient. The good fortune of happiness will flow through your veins again.”

PoetryGrowthCourageStrengthSelf Love
Book:Not Broken, Becoming.: Moving from Self-Sabotage to Self-Love.
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“No son of mine, Lord. No son of mine! Beat beat beat You try to beat it out of me Belt it out of me Heartless heart Beat beating You think you can bruise me Out of being Bruise it out of me When you belt it beat it Try to break it- Try to break the thing you cannot break Because I carry it so deep inside No beat of yours no belt of yours Will ever come close. You try to beat it out of me Belt it out of me Belt me into buckling Beat me into heartstopping Stophurting Trying so hard You say you'll kill me to save me Kill the me inside of me Beat it belt it but it Just won't budge. Not for you. I know You can't stay in this room forever I know We can't stay in this room forever You beat me belt me to get to me But you'll never get to me Not the me me heartbeat me. I am saving it. I am saving it for tonight I am saving it for you right there And you over there. I am saving it for Every you with a me deep inside. Now that I've left that room Out into the world as big As a billion rooms I have saved me Yes, I have saved me Constructed of words and hurt And the glass self I've protected All this time To get to this one of a billion rooms This room tonight. Beat beat beat I have found my own beat My own pitter-patter My own sis-boom-bah! Beat beat beat I belt it out Song sung strong Stung song Tongue song Back from being Bitten back Some songs sung beg to be carried home. This song sings To be carried far and wide. Beat beat beat- The sound it brings Is the sound of wings.”

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Book:You Know Me Well
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“When arrogance calls it should always be poetry that answers thereby granting a stay to humankind's feelings of omnipotence. When love calls it must be poetry that answers bringing the sweet perfume of gentleness as our hearts pound and pound; when courage calls it will always be poetry that answers as we rise above ourselves to bring about a better thing. When war calls, poetry is the only answer. Poetry says No to destruction and Yes to possibility. Poetry is a good idea. A good friend. A good neighbor. Let's write poems.”

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Book:Acolytes
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“Strap on those wings and close your eyes and take a step off that ledge with your arms spread and let the faith in yourself be enough to have the wind whip underneath your entire body and lift it back up into the air like a firework or a bird of paradise or a shooting star. It doesn't matter what heights you reach or what storms might set you back or how often you want to yank the feathers from your body and let them burn. You've already done it. Bask in the pride for a moment and soak in the fact that you are amazing.”

InspirationalPoetryCourageConfidenceSelf LoveMental HealthPoems
Book:Instructions For Flight
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“Bird of Paradise, feather among leaves, To the earthy soil I am bound and tied. Anchored by claws of roots and weighty sheaves, My spirit flies among the birds that glide. My sprawled pinions verdant, tail feathers pied, A crest of orange crowned is my disguise. As winds breathe hope and new life, then subside, Seeds are sown and grown right before my eyes. My vision is centered, strong are my arms, I feed the hungry and withstand their sting, I greet the sunrise, and bathe in rainstorms. Wildflowers fret and speak of blight all spring, But Paradise shuns foreboding such plight. Proud is my nature, I stand strongly bright.”

PoetryNatureStrengthPoemResilienceFlowersSonnetLeavesFeatherBird Of Paradise
Author:Marie Helen Abramyan
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“The More Loving One Looking up at the stars, I know quite well That, for all they care, I can go to hell, But on earth indifference is the least We have to dread from man or beast. How should we like it were stars to burn With a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me. Admirer as I think I am Of stars that do not give a damn, I cannot, now I see them, say I missed one terribly all day. Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky And feel its total dark sublime, Though this might take me a little time.”

LovePoetry
Book:Collected Shorter Poems, 1927-1957
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“In our despair that justice is slow we sit with heads bowed wondering how even whether we will ever be healed. Perhaps it is a question only the ravaged the violated seriously ask. And is that not now almost all of us? But hope is on the way. As usual Hope is a woman herding her children around her all she retains of who she was; as usual except for her kids she has lost almost everything. Hope is a woman who has lost her fear.”

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Book:Taking the Arrow Out of the Heart
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“I refuse to be your battery You don't get to drain me anymore You don't get to charge me anytime for anything anymore You don't get to judge me- to think I'm used up and be indecisive daily whether you'd like to get a new one You don't get to connect to me or keep testing me You haven't saved up enough integrity to afford this high quality battery The only thing I will allow is for you to replace me- Good luck.”

InspirationPoetryHealingStrengthAbuseTrauma
Book:Will to Flutter
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