poetry

"Cheap little rhymesA cheap little tuneAre sometimes as dangerousAs a sliver of the moon."

"Every angel is terrifying."

"HarlemWhat happens to a dream deferred?Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore-- And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet?Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.Or does it explode?"

"Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular."

"It is my belief... that the truth is generally preferable to lies."

"A pine tree standeth lonelyIn the North on an upland bare;It standeth whitely shroudedWith snow, and sleepeth there.It dreameth of a Palm treeWhich far in the East alone,In the mournful silence standethOn its ridge of burning stone."

"I'd rather be thin than famousbut I'm fatpaste that in your broadway show"

"You are ice and fire The touch of you burns my hands like snow"

"Kill what you can't savewhat you can't eat throw outwhat you can't throw out buryWhat you can't bury give awaywhat you can't give away you must carry with you,it is always heavier than you thought."

"Dare to love yourselfas if you were a rainbowwith gold at both ends."

"I think there is a song out there to describe just about any situation."

"Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent"

"I was dead until you found me, though I breathed. I was sightless, though I could see. And then you came...and I was awakened."

"We had a lavender kind of love, so soothing and smooth, and if I could bottle up what we had, you'd want it all over your body."

"Writing poetry and reading books causes brain damage."

"If we surrenderedto earth’s intelligencewe could rise up rooted, like trees.Instead we entangle ourselvesin knots of our own makingand struggle, lonely and confused.So like children, we begin again...to fall,patiently to trust our heaviness.Even a bird has to do thatbefore he can fly."

"Fee-fi-fo-fum -Now I'm borrowed.Now I'm numb."

"A mighty flame follows a tiny spark."

"I have outlasted all desire,My dreams and I have grown apart;My grief alone is left entire,The gleamings of an empty heart.The storms of ruthless dispensationHave struck my flowery garland numb,I live in lonely desolationAnd wonder when my end will come.Thus on a naked tree-limb, blastedBy tardy winter's whistling chill,A single leaf which has outlastedIts season will be trembling still."

"But my heart is an old house(the kind my mothergrew up in)hell to heat and cooland faulty in the wiringand though it’s nice to look atI have no businessinviting lovers in."