Poet Quotes - Page 6

Maybe you are a poet and a dreamer, but don't you realize that those two species are extinct now?

After all, what is art? Art is the creative process and it goes through all fields. Einstein’s theory of relativity – now that is a work of art! Einstein was more of an artist in physics than on his violin.
Art is this: art is the solution of a problem which cannot be expressed explicitly until it is solved.

There are no lungs like the ones that breathe poetry.

Legend has it that while drinking wine in a boat on the river, [8th century Chinese poet Li Po] tried to grab the moon's reflection on the surface and tumbled in, which is probably the poet's equivalent of dying bravely in battle.

In the beginning was the word, and primitive societies venerated poets second only to their leaders. A poet had the power to name and so to control; he was, literally, the living memory of a group or tribe who would perpetuate their history in song; his inspiration was god given and he was in effect a medium.

When the hatred stops will the love begin? When there is no more greed will there then be peace?

And while he compared all these things which he was seeing with his eyes to the mental pictures he had painted of them in his homesickness, it became clear to him that he was, after all, destined to be a poet, and he saw that in poets' dreams reside a beauty and enchantment that one seeks in vain in the things of the real world.

You can run from the truth. You can run and hide from the truth.
You can deny and avoid the truth. But you cannot destroy the truth. Nor can you make the lie true. You must know that love will always uncover the truth.

I wish that I could fly into the sky and touch the clouds with my hands.

Men take care of your responsibilities with maturity.

In you I see an immaculate woman full of feminine grace and untarnished beauty.

Many women have tried to compare to you, but they are only flawed imitations. You deserve the worlds admiration.

He was a poet; and they are never exactly grown-up.

I thought, 'There are a lot of poets who have the courage to look into the abyss, but there are very few who have the courage to look happiness in the face and write about it,' which is what I wanted to be able to do.

writing home"

here in the wilderness of australia
writing home becomes easy
in spite of the spreading wild fires
there is less heat, more certainty.

writing home, writing this
i think of those without real homes–
our city, people say, provides houses
which do not, often, bring one home.

The poet is a faker / Who's so good at his act / He even fakes the pain / Of pain he feels in fact.

In The End The Words Are The All And The Nothing.

our love
like
stepping on to a plane
sitting down in a car
walking on unknown land
will either take us to where we belong
or throw us into darkness

Aspirations don’t make poets, perseverance does. Flow with the emotions, let your imagination soar, find what ignites the fire within and let it go wild.

Carpe diem.Seize the day, boys.
Make your lives extraordinary