#poe

Times change, as do our wills, What we are - is ever changing; All the world is made of change, And forever attaining new qualities. ↗

— Luís Vaz de Camões

#poetry #time #will #change

I can't think of a case where poems changed the world, but what they do is they change people's understanding of what's going on in the world. ↗

— Seamus Heaney

#change

There are so many things to say; so many things that can't really be said. So much has happened; so little has changed. We have so many words prepared; so many words are too hard to actually say. A few days have passed; this pain has been here for years. We don't know where to go from here; our future has always been in our minds. Moments of peace with those who constantly argue; fights with those that usually bring peace. There are so many things to say; so many things that can't really be said. ↗

— Alysha Speer

#poem #poetic #change

To harden the earth the rocks took charge: instantly they grew wings: the rocks that soared: the survivors flew up the lightning bolt, screamed in the night, a watermark, a violet sword, a meteor. The succulent sky had not only clouds, not only space smelling of oxygen, but an earthly stone flashing here and there changed into a dove, changed into a bell, into immensity, into a piercing wind: into a phosphorescent arrow, into salt of the sky. ↗

— Pablo Neruda

#change

Quiet friend who has come so far, feel how your breathing makes more space around you. Let this darkness be a bell tower and you the bell. As you ring, what batters you becomes your strength. Move back and forth into the change. What is it like, such intensity of pain? If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine. In this uncontainable night, be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses, the meaning discovered there. And if the world has ceased to hear you, say to the silent earth: I flow. To the rushing water, speak: I am. ↗

— Rainer Maria Rilke

#change

We wrote our names in the sand You crossed mine out: I can't get back to the way I was. ↗

— Kiera Woodhull

#loss #poetry #change

...my body has become another country and I feel like an unemployed illegal alien how will I survive where I do not belong I belong with you ↗

— Patrick Califia-Rice

#change #longing #poem #change

Interior of the hand. Sole that has come to walk only on feelings. That faces upward and in its mirror receives heavenly roads, which travel along themselves. That has learned to walk upon water when it scoops, that walks upon wells, transfiguring every path. That steps into other hands, changes those that are like it into a landscape: wanders and arrives within them, fills them with arrival. ↗

— Rainer Maria Rilke

#companionship #palm #poetry #change

They changed their minds, Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell. ↗

— John Milton

#epic-poem #john #milton #paradise-lost #satan

A change of style is a change of meaning. ↗

— Wallace Stevens

#change