#poetry

Works of art are of an infinite solitude, and no means of approach is so useless as criticism. Only love can touch and hold them and be fair to them. ↗

— Rainer Maria Rilke

#love #poetry #art

Without poets, without artists... everything would fall apart into chaos. There would be no more seasons, no more civilizations, no more thought, no more humanity, no more life even; and impotent darkness would reign forever. Poets and artists together determine the features of their age, and the future meekly conforms to their edit. ↗

— Guillaume Apollinaire

#poetry #age

If poets often commit suicide, it is not because their poems are bad but because they are good. Whoever heard of a bad poet committing suicide? The reader is only a little better off. The exhilaration of a good poem lasts twenty minutes, an hour at most. Unlike the scientist, the artist has reentry problems that are frequent and catastrophic. ↗

— Walker Percy

#poetry #reentry-problems #suicide #art

I am the eye that beholds... And I am the dreamer that paints the stars in the night sky... For I am the one they call artist, and you call Love. ↗

— Solange nicole

#artist #beauty #beauty-in-nature #dreamer-of-the-stars #love

Music resembles poetry, in each Are nameless graces which no methods teach, And which a master hand alone can reach. ↗

— Alexander Pope

#an-essay-on-criticism #art #genius #music #poet

A revolution in the eyes of man carries purpose. A revolution in the eyes of the awakened carries bliss. ↗

— Sal Martinez

#bliss #buddha-nature #buddhism #enlightenment #human-revolution

The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world. ↗

— Edgar Allan Poe

#death #poetry #women #beauty

She who reconciles the ill-matched threads Of her life, and weaves them gratefully Into a single cloth – It’s she who drives the loudmouths from the hall And clears it for a different celebration. ↗

— Rainer Maria Rilke

#life #poetry #rilke #women #beauty

If death is like a sonnet then life would be a haiku. The sonnet, a lyrical poem, the beauty and magic with the last breath~ love, words fading and floating off into the abyss that is space whilst our everyday lives or days more important than normal become just a mere whisper in only a few short syllables through which we convey with our hearts the truth of the universe in a single moment briefly. ↗

— R.M. Engelhardt

#life #poetry #r-m-engelhardt #sonnets #truth

Beauty is so rare a th— Sing a new song Real Music A busted flush. A pain in the eyebrows. A Visiting card — from 15 False Propositions Against God [1958] ↗

— Jack Spicer

#images #leap #poetry #beauty