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#poem

Read through the most famous quotes by topic #poem




I travel, always arriving in the same place.


Dejan Stojanovic


#arriving #dejan-stojanovic #literature #literature-quotes #place

We will go far away, to nowhere, to conquer, to fertilize until we become tired. Then we will stop and there will be our home.


Dejan Stojanovic


#dejan-stojanovic #far-away #fertilize #home #literature

Instead of imitating me, you simply loiter.


Dejan Stojanovic


#imitating #imitations #literature #literature-quotes #loitering

In a myriad of ways you tell one truth.


Dejan Stojanovic


#god #literature #literature-quotes #myriad #poems

Love at First Sight Both are convinced that a sudden surge of emotion bound them together. Beautiful is such a certainty, but uncertainty is more beautiful. Because they didn’t know each other earlier, they suppose that nothing was happening between them. What of the streets, stairways and corridors where they could have passed each other long ago? I’d like to ask them whether they remember— perhaps in a revolving door ever being face to face? an “excuse me” in a crowd or a voice “wrong number” in the receiver. But I know their answer: no, they don’t remember. They’d be greatly astonished to learn that for a long time chance had been playing with them. Not yet wholly ready to transform into fate for them it approached them, then backed off, stood in their way and, suppressing a giggle, jumped to the side. There were signs, signals: but what of it if they were illegible. Perhaps three years ago, or last Tuesday did a certain leaflet fly from shoulder to shoulder? There was something lost and picked up. Who knows but what it was a ball in the bushes of childhood. There were doorknobs and bells on which earlier touch piled on touch. Bags beside each other in the luggage room. Perhaps they had the same dream on a certain night, suddenly erased after waking. Every beginning is but a continuation, and the book of events is never more than half open. -translated by Walter Whipple


Wisława Szymborska


#beauty

My child, I know you're not a child But I still see you running wild Between those flowering trees. Your sparkling dreams, your silver laugh Your wishes to the stars above Are just my memories. And in your eyes the ocean And in your eyes the sea The waters frozen over With your longing to be free. Yesterday you'd awoken To a world incredibly old. This is the age you are broken Or turned into gold. You had to kill this child, I know. To break the arrows and the bow To shed your skin and change. The trees are flowering no more There's blood upon the tiles floor This place is dark and strange. I see you standing in the storm Holding the curse of youth Each of you with your story Each of you with your truth. Some words will never be spoken Some stories will never be told. This is the age you are broken Or turned into gold. I didn't say the world was good. I hoped by now you understood Why I could never lie. I didn't promise you a thing. Don't ask my wintervoice for spring Just spread your wings and fly. Though in the hidden garden Down by the green green lane The plant of love grows next to The tree of hate and pain. So take my tears as a token. They'll keep you warm in the cold. This is the age you are broken Or turned into gold. You've lived too long among us To leave without a trace You've lived too short to understand A thing about this place. Some of you just sit there smoking And some are already sold. This is the age you are broken Or turned into gold. This is the age you are broken or turned into gold.


Antonia Michaelis


#growing-up #innocence #poem #youth #age

A poem records emotions and moods that lie beyond normal language, that can only be patched together and hinted at metaphorically.


Diane Ackerman


#emotions #language #lie #metaphorically #moods

A poem generated by its own laws may be unrealized and bad in terms of so-called objective principles of taste, judgement, deduction.


A. R. Ammons


#deduction #generated #judgement #laws #may

I didn't think about whether I was writing poems. I was thinking. And the more I was thinking, the more there was I didn't understand.


David Antin


#i #more #poems #think #thinking

I was very committed to the process of composing, working at poems, putting things together and taking them apart like some kind of experimental filmmaker.


David Antin


#committed #composing #experimental #filmmaker #i






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