#poems

Can knowledge be conveyed that isn't felt? But if transport's the problem - they tell me get a job and earn yourself an automobile-I'd rather collect my parts as I go: chair, desk, house and crankshaft Shakespeare. Generator boy, Paul, love is carried if it's held. ↗

— Lorine Niedecker

#love

...some of the best love poems have been written by monks and nuns... ↗

— John Geddes

#monks #nuns #poems #love

I uttered his name like a silent whisper of the falling rain - saying love is his game as the cool breeze sets in."- Elizabeth's Shorter Poems ↗

— Elizabeth E. Castillo

#love #short-poems #whisper #love

Chanson d’automne Les sanglots longs Des violons De l’automne Blessent mon coeur D’une langueur Monotone. Tout suffocant Et blême, quand Sonne l’heure, Je me souviens Des jours anciens Et je pleure ; Et je m’en vais Au vent mauvais Qui m’emporte Deçà, delà, Pareil à la Feuille morte. ↗

— Paul Verlaine

#men

Evening by evening Among the Brookside rushes, Laura bow'd her head to hear, Lizzie veil'd her blushes: Crouching close together In the cooling weather, With clasping arms and cautioning lips, With tingling cheeks and fingertips. "lie close," Laura said, Pricking up her golden head: "We must not look at Goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: who knows upon the soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots?" "Come buy," call the Goblins Hobbling down the glen ↗

— Christina Rossetti

#goblin-market #poems #men

Anchor It took twenty horses to lug me through the shipyard on the back of a cart like a fifteen-and-a-half ton pantomime dame. My spitting image was weighed on the other side of the bow: two fat men in drag; we felt as though no-one could ever bring us down. ↗

— Natalie Scott

#poems #poetry #titanic #men

My earlier poems were sadder than my poems are today, perhaps because I wrote them in confusion or when I was unhappy. But I am not a melancholy person, quite the contrary, no one enjoys laughing more than I do. ↗

— Anne Stevenson

#because #confusion #contrary #earlier #enjoys

The machines are too dull when we are lion-poems that move & breathe. ↗

— Michael McClure

#lion #machines #nature #poems #poetry

[L]ife is a phenomenon in need of criticism, for we are, as fallen creatures, in permanent danger of worshipping false gods, of failing to understand ourselves and misinterpreting the behaviour of others, of growing unproductively anxious or desirous, and of losing ourselves to vanity and error. Surreptitiously and beguilingly, then, with humour or gravity, works of art--novels, poems, plays, paintings or films--can function as vehicles to explain our condition to us. They may act as guides to a truer, more judicious, more intelligent understanding of the world. ↗

— Alain de Botton

#art #criticism #desire #films #gravity

How happy is the little stone That rambles in the road alone, And doesn't care about careers, And exigencies never fears; Whose coat of elemental brown A passing universe put on; And independent as the sun, Associates or glows alone, Fulfilling absolute decree In casual simplicity. ↗

— Emily Dickinson

#poems #poetry #career