#poetry

...I see you as series of gestures, a palette of colors -all these tiny tiles pixelate, and then coalesce... into the idea of you... ↗

— John Geddes

#love-quotes #poetry-quotes #thoughts-of-you #love

Äiti rakas en jaksa kutoa olen nääntynyt ikävästä kiitos ihanan Afrotiden ↗

— Sappho

#poetry #love

I think of New York City lost in stars forgotten as a blue haired pet of childhood love Tonight the night is full; ↗

— Gregory Corso

#poet #poetry #love

How many times Can you go back to the same spot With love? I never hope to know. We work patiently at our quarrels, Starting them now like love, Deliberately but with elaborate Ease. When they catch We marvel at the blaze, Crowding in close. 'Inexhaustible!' we shout at one another, Happy for the moment. I never hope to know How many times. ↗

— Harvey Shapiro

#love

My Father Still Sleeping After Surgery In spite of himself, my father loved me. In spite of the hands that beat me, in spite of the mouth that kept silent, in spite of the face that turned cruel as a gold Chinese king, he could not control the love that came out of him. The body is monumental, a colossus through which he breathes. His hands crawl over his stomach jerkily as sand crabs on five legs; he makes a fist like the fist of a newborn. ↗

— Toi Derricotte

#love

Siento haber de dejar deshabitado cuerpo que amante espíritu ha ceñido; desierto un corazón siempre encendido, donde todo el Amor reinó hospedado. ↗

— Francisco de Quevedo

#love

Llama que a la inmortal vida trasciende, ni teme con el cuerpo sepultura, ni el tiemnpo la marchita ni la ofende. ↗

— Francisco de Quevedo

#love

...those others - they're looking for trends - subjects to catch a spark - but I have you - a coal from God's altar - a star cupped in my hands... ↗

— John Geddes

#coal #god #love #poetry #star

He remembers which sister I like least and asks how she is doing. (lines 9-11 of the poem 'Divorce') ↗

— Carrie Etter

#marriage #poetry #women #marriage

How do I feel today? I feel as unfit as an unfiddle, And it is the result of a certain turbulence in the mind and an uncertain burbulence in the middle. What was it, anyway, that angry thing that flew at me? I am unused to banshees crying Boo at me. Your wife can’t be a banshee— Or can she? ↗

— Ogden Nash

#drinking #hangover #marriage #poetry #relationships