Writing Poems Quotes
Quotes tagged as "writing-poems"
Showing 1-13 of 13
“I was mistaken
when I said you
live in my heart.
How absurd I was
when you live in my
fingertips so that everything
I touch is you. How foolish
I was when you live in my toes
so that everywhere I go there's you.
How senseless of me to say
you live in my heart
when you breathe in my lungs,
walk on my mind, and
drink in my mouth. I came to
pen another poem for you,
but even every unwritten poem
is you.”
―
when I said you
live in my heart.
How absurd I was
when you live in my
fingertips so that everything
I touch is you. How foolish
I was when you live in my toes
so that everywhere I go there's you.
How senseless of me to say
you live in my heart
when you breathe in my lungs,
walk on my mind, and
drink in my mouth. I came to
pen another poem for you,
but even every unwritten poem
is you.”
―
“I only wrote prose before I met you.
My musings were superfluous and serious as well.
But now the words dance with me.
I sing with them
and we create poetry.”
―
My musings were superfluous and serious as well.
But now the words dance with me.
I sing with them
and we create poetry.”
―
“Why Do I Write?
Isn’t it obvious?
I write because these words
form a bridge
that take me to you.
Go to my desk
and ask my pen.
Swift through the once naked pages
and ask the ink:
”
―
Isn’t it obvious?
I write because these words
form a bridge
that take me to you.
Go to my desk
and ask my pen.
Swift through the once naked pages
and ask the ink:
”
―
“Why Do I Write?
Isn’t it obvious?
I write because these words
form a bridge
that take me to you.
Go to my desk
and ask my pen.
Swift through the once naked pages
and ask the ink:
Why does she write?
They’ll reaffirm these words:
She is proud of you.
She is proud of knowing you,
of loving you.
Yes, proud. I am proud
to have chosen you to love.
To me, it isn’t even a question—
one must always yield to love.
Yes, love. We must love
if only because we are alive.
But who to love—that is the question.
I write because
you are my answer.”
―
Isn’t it obvious?
I write because these words
form a bridge
that take me to you.
Go to my desk
and ask my pen.
Swift through the once naked pages
and ask the ink:
Why does she write?
They’ll reaffirm these words:
She is proud of you.
She is proud of knowing you,
of loving you.
Yes, proud. I am proud
to have chosen you to love.
To me, it isn’t even a question—
one must always yield to love.
Yes, love. We must love
if only because we are alive.
But who to love—that is the question.
I write because
you are my answer.”
―
“Why is it surprising that I,
your Little Sequin,
can write devastating love poems?
Tell me how you can spot
the violent storms inside a heart?
Can you identify which person
is going through a revolution?
Which is revolting against their thoughts
and overthrowing their mind, only
to make their heart king?
There is a world inside each of us.
By writing,
I hope to share mine with you.
So please,
step inside.”
―
your Little Sequin,
can write devastating love poems?
Tell me how you can spot
the violent storms inside a heart?
Can you identify which person
is going through a revolution?
Which is revolting against their thoughts
and overthrowing their mind, only
to make their heart king?
There is a world inside each of us.
By writing,
I hope to share mine with you.
So please,
step inside.”
―
“I guess I have no choice
But to toss all novels under the rug
Nothing can compete with the poetry bug”
― The Songs of The Gullible Wiseman: The Early Poems of Maddy Kobar, 2008-2013
But to toss all novels under the rug
Nothing can compete with the poetry bug”
― The Songs of The Gullible Wiseman: The Early Poems of Maddy Kobar, 2008-2013
“Isn't it far better to live a poetic life than to spend one's life writing Poetry?”
― The Italian Pleasures of Gabriele Paterkallos
― The Italian Pleasures of Gabriele Paterkallos
“Writing a poem is a form of listening, helping me discover what's wrong or frightening in my world as well as what delights me.”
― Poemcrazy: Freeing Your Life with Words
― Poemcrazy: Freeing Your Life with Words
“A friend from Boston wrote something to me last week
about not having the intelligence
to take as subject for his poems
anything other than his own life.”
― Another Attempt at Rescue
about not having the intelligence
to take as subject for his poems
anything other than his own life.”
― Another Attempt at Rescue
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