#poetry

No one has imagined us. We want to live like trees, sycamores blazing through the sulfuric air, dappled with scars, still exuberantly budding, our animal passion rooted in the city. ↗

— Adrienne Rich

#love #poetry #dreams

Hinged to forgetfulness like a door, she slowly closed out of sight, and she was the woman I loved, but too many times she slept like a mechanical deer in my caresses, and I ached in the metal silence of her dreams. ↗

— Richard Brautigan

#dreams

We were hooked when we woke. We had arms for each other. But I yearned to resume My dreams of another. ↗

— Roman Payne

#affairs #betrayal #dreams #nocturnal #poetry

I never dreamed the sea so deep, The earth so dark; so long my sleep, I have become another child. I wake to see the world go wild. ↗

— Allen Ginsberg

#poetry #dreams

When you write about what you dream, you become a writer. When you dream about what you write, you become haunted by a curse. ↗

— A. Saleh

#poetry #writer #writing #dreams

Your pain is a school unto itself–– and your joy a lovely temple. ↗

— Aberjhani

#famous-quotations #grace #haiku #haikus #joy

The poet dreams of the mountain Sometimes I grow weary of the days, with all their fits and starts. I want to climb some old gray mountains, slowly, taking The rest of my lifetime to do it, resting often, sleeping Under the pines or, above them, on the unclothed rocks. I want to see how many stars are still in the sky That we have smothered for years now, a century at least. I want to look back at everything, forgiving it all, And peaceful, knowing the last thing there is to know. All that urgency! Not what the earth is about! How silent the trees, their poetry being of themselves only. I want to take slow steps, and think appropriate thoughts. In ten thousand years, maybe, a piece of the mountain will fall. ↗

— Mary Oliver

#nature #poetry #dreams

Marriage I think For women Is the best of opiates. It kills the thoughts That think about the thoughts, It is the best of opiates. So said Maria. But too long in solitude she'd dwelt, And too long her thoughts had felt Their strength. So when the man drew near, Out popped her thoughts and covered him with fear. Poor Maria! Better that she had kept her thoughts on a chain, For now she's alone again and all in pain; She sighs for the man that went and the thoughts that stay To trouble her dreams by night and her dreams by day. ↗

— Stevie Smith

#poetry #women #dreams

همست نجمة لقلبي خذيني معك ↗

— لطيفة الحاج

#poetry #dreams

New York! I say New York, let black blood flow into your blood. Let it wash the rust from your steel joints, like an oil of life Let it give your bridges the curve of hips and supple vines. Now the ancient age returns, unity is restored, The recociliation of the Lion and Bull and Tree Idea links to action, the ear to the heart, sign to meaning. See your rivers stirring with musk alligators And sea cows with mirage eyes. No need to invent the Sirens. Just open your eyes to the April rainbow And your eyes, especially your ears, to God Who in one burst of saxophone laughter Created heaven and earth in six days, And on the seventh slept a deep Negro sleep. ↗

— Léopold Sédar Senghor

#new-york-city #poetry #age