poetry

"Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know,Are a substantial world, both pure and good:Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood,Our pastime and our happiness will grow."

"A Man Said to the UniverseA man said to the universe: “Sir, I exist!”“However,” replied the universe, “The fact has not created in me A sense of obligation."

"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words."

"I have been happy, though in a dream.I have been happy-and I love the theme:Dreams! in their vivid colouring of lifeAs in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife"

"She dealt her pretty words like Blades --How glittering they shone --And every One unbared a NerveOr wantoned with a Bone --She never deemed -- she hurt --That -- is not Steel's Affair --A vulgar grimace in the Flesh --How ill the Creatures bear --To Ache is human -- not polite --The Film upon the eyeMortality's old Custom --Just locking up -- to Die."

"We'll Go No More A-rovingSo, we'll go no more a-rovingSo late into the night,Though the heart still be as loving,And the moon still be as bright.For the sword outwears its sheath,And the soul wears out the breast,And the heart must pause to breathe,And love itself have rest.Though the night was made for loving,And the day returns too soon,Yet we'll go no more a-rovingBy the light of the moon."

"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."

"Were knowledge all, what were our needTo thrill and faint and sweetly bleed?"

"So the freshness lives onin a lemon,in the sweet-smelling house of the rind,the proportions, arcane and acerb."

"The Coming of LightEven this late it happens:the coming of love, the coming of light. You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves, stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows, sending up warm bouquets of air.Even this late the bones of the body shine and tomorrow’s dust flares into breath."

"come back so i can say yes this time do it again now that i know what to call what you didthis time i'll be ready i like it rough now and i'm done with romance i never met another man who loved me so much at first sight he had to hurt me to do it"

"Tell me not in mournful numbers,Life is but an empty dream!For the soul is dead that slumbers,And things are not what they seem."

"No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone. His significance, his appreciation is the appreciation of his relation to the dead poets and artists. You cannot value him alone; you must set him, for contrast and comparison, among the dead."

"She lends her pen,to thoughts of him,that flow from it,in her solitary.For she is his poet,And he is her poetry."

"Blood was its Avatar and its seal."

"When no one is looking,I swallow deserts and cloudsand chew on mountainsknowing they are sweet bones!When no one is lookingand I want to kiss God,I just lift my own hand to my mouth."

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

"To be great, be whole;Exclude nothing, exaggerate nothing that is not you.Be whole in everything. Put all you areInto the smallest thing you do.So, in each lake, the moon shines with splendorBecause it blooms up above."

"It was never about the world being too big, it was more like she was too much for the world to handle."

"You have to die a few times before you can reallylive."