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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #poe
if i or anybody don't know where it her his my next meal's coming from i say to hell with that that doesn't matter (and if he she it or everybody gets a bellyful without lifting my finger i say to hell with that i say that doesn't matter) but if somebody or you are beautiful or deep or generous what i say is whistle that sing that yell that spell that out big (bigger than cosmic rays w ar earthquakes famine or the ex prince of whoses diving into a whatses to rescue miss nobody's probably handbag) because i say that's not swell (get me) babe not (understand me) lousy kid that's something else my sweet (i feel that's true) ↗
You do not seem to realize that beauty is a liability rather than an asset - that in view of the fact that spirit creates form we are justified in supposing that you must have brains. For you, a symbol of the unit, stiff and sharp, conscious of surpassing by dint of native superiority and liking for everything self-dependent, anything an ambitious civilization might produce: for you, unaided, to attempt through sheer reserve, to confuse presumptions resulting from observation, is idle. You cannot make us think you a delightful happen-so. But rose, if you are brilliant, it is not because your petals are the without-which-nothing of pre-eminence. Would you not, minus thorns, be a what-is-this, a mere perculiarity? They are not proof against a worm, the elements, or mildew; but what about the predatory hand? What is brilliance without co-ordination? Guarding the infinitesimal pieces of your mind, compelling audience to the remark that it is better to be forgotten than to be re- membered too violently, your thorns are the best part of you. ↗
#poem #roses-only #beauty
Sleeping Wrestler You are a murderer No you are not, but really a wrestler Either way it's just the same For from the ring of your entangled body Clean as leather, lustful as a lily Will nail me down On your stout neck like a column, like a pillar of tendons The thoughtful forehead (In fact, it's thinking nothing) When the forehead slowly moves and closes the heavy eyelids Inside, a dark forest awakens A forest of red parrots Seven almonds and grape leaves At the end of the forest a vine Covers the house where two boys Lie in each others arms: I'm one of them, you the other In the house, melancholy and terrible anxiety Outside the keyhole, a sunset Dyed with the blood of the beautiful bullfighter Escamillo Scorched by the sunset, headlong, headfirst Falling, falling, a gymnast If you're going to open your eyes, nows the time, wrestler ↗
Voll Blüten steht der Pfirsichbaum nicht jede wächst zur Frucht sie schimmern hell wie Rosenschaum durch Blau und Wolkenflucht. Wie Blüten geh'n Gedanken auf hundert an jedem Tag -- lass' blühen, lass' dem Ding den Lauf frag' nicht nach dem Ertrag! Es muss auch Spiel und Unschuld sein und Blütenüberfluss sonst wär' die Welt uns viel zu klein und Leben kein Genuss. ↗
Friend who has fired the kingfishers and flamed the dragonflies – they catch your light however they move and beam it out of their eyes. ↗
#christ #free-verse #gerard-manley-hopkins #poetry #the-image
To leave out beautiful sunsets is the secret of good taste. ↗
#dejan-stojanovic #good-taste #literature #literature-quotes #poetry
