#poetry

Do you see the power of the rain? ↗

— Ursula Kay Vos

#life

Something about the turbulence of adolescence makes you want to do something creative...I thought as I got older I would stop writing about it, but I find adolescence, and popular depictions of it, very interesting. I like to see where my own life intersects or diverges from notions of what a teenager is supposed to be, or what a black person is supposed to be, or a woman. ↗

— Allison Joseph

#life

I keep following this sort of hidden river of my life, you know, whatever the topic or impulse which comes, I follow it along trustingly. And I don't have any sense of its coming to a kind of crescendo, or of its petering out either. It is just going steadily along. ↗

— William Stafford

#life

Snub end of a dismal year, deep in the dwarf orchard, The sky with its undercoat of blackwash and point stars, I stand in the dark and answer to My life, this shirt I want to take off, which is on fire . . . ↗

— Charles Wright

#life

A truth should exist, it should not be used like this. If I love you is that a fact or a weapon? ↗

— Margaret Atwood

#poetry #truth #love

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied Who told me time would ease me of my pain! I miss him in the weeping of the rain; I want him at the shrinking of the tide; The old snows melt from every mountain-side, And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane; But last year's bitter loving must remain Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide! There are a hundred places where I fear To go,--so with his memory they brim! And entering with relief some quiet place Where never fell his foot or shone his face I say, 'There is no memory of him here!' And so stand stricken, so remembering him! ↗

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

#sorrow #yearning #love

I love you because no two snowflakes are alike, and it is possible, if you stand tippy-toe, to walk between the raindrops. ↗

— Nikki Giovanni

#poetry #rain #snow #love

You shall love your crooked neighbour, with your crooked heart. ↗

— W.H. Auden

#poetry #love

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. ↗

— Pablo Neruda

#passion #poetry #love

So sweet and delicious do I become, when I am in bed with a man who, I sense, loves and enjoys me, that the pleasure I bring excels all delight, so the knot of love, however tight it seemed before, is tied tighter still. ↗

— Veronica Franco

#erotic #pleasure #poetry #sex #love