Poems On Life Quotes
Quotes tagged as "poems-on-life"
Showing 1-30 of 169
“This book is dedicated to those in life whom I have met and by virtue of those encounters, have helped to shape the content herein.”
― From The Pen Of An Aquarian: Love, hope and darker moments
― From The Pen Of An Aquarian: Love, hope and darker moments
“the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.”
―
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.”
―
“The graph of life is not a straight line—
Initiatives climax to gradually decline.
The world is infused with greed and hate—
Where innocent errors may alter one's fate.
Where the fulfillment of desires fails to satiate—
Where turbulence is a constant state.”
― The Illustrious Garden
Initiatives climax to gradually decline.
The world is infused with greed and hate—
Where innocent errors may alter one's fate.
Where the fulfillment of desires fails to satiate—
Where turbulence is a constant state.”
― The Illustrious Garden
“Don’t let the delusions of learning derail your mind.
Remain considerate, congenial, and kind.
For the good you do, may not quickly show
True success comes awfully slow
Whether good you do or evil you sow
Fruits of your labor sprout as they grow”
― The Illustrious Garden
Remain considerate, congenial, and kind.
For the good you do, may not quickly show
True success comes awfully slow
Whether good you do or evil you sow
Fruits of your labor sprout as they grow”
― The Illustrious Garden
“She traced an imaginary line
On the endlessly nocturnal sky.
Only to locate the north
Which seemed so near,
Yet so far.
For the compass she had
Was cracked and broken.”
―
On the endlessly nocturnal sky.
Only to locate the north
Which seemed so near,
Yet so far.
For the compass she had
Was cracked and broken.”
―
“Blind Heart’s.
In the circle of life, a sorrowful tale,
Where death and life dance an endless wail.
Hungry eyes search for morsels to devour,
Survival's cruel game with each passing hour.
Angst and fear grip hearts, cold and bleak,
Aching souls yearning for solace they seek.
In a world that lacks fairness, unjust and unkind,
Tears fall like rain, leaving scars behind.
Hatred and love, a twisted embrace,
In this nature of existence, a bitter chase.
For when darkness looms,
Love hides in despair,
Yet hate finds its mark,
leaving hearts threadbare.
We,
people who turn blind eyes to the cries,
As if suffering and anguish were mere lies.
Ignoring the plight that surrounds us all,
Humanity's downfall, a deafening fall.
But what of the animals, creatures so dear?
Caught in this cycle, their voices unclear.
Silently they suffer, their pain left unheard,
In nature's cruel script, an unspoken word.
Children on ground, black and white
Dying, Drying while survival trying.
Scars defining not body, but soul
Oh light, forgive us Lord.
The circle spins on, in sorrow it turns,
A tragic symphony,
where hope rarely burns.
In this poem of life,
where sadness takes hold,
Let us open our eyes,
let compassion unfold.”
―
In the circle of life, a sorrowful tale,
Where death and life dance an endless wail.
Hungry eyes search for morsels to devour,
Survival's cruel game with each passing hour.
Angst and fear grip hearts, cold and bleak,
Aching souls yearning for solace they seek.
In a world that lacks fairness, unjust and unkind,
Tears fall like rain, leaving scars behind.
Hatred and love, a twisted embrace,
In this nature of existence, a bitter chase.
For when darkness looms,
Love hides in despair,
Yet hate finds its mark,
leaving hearts threadbare.
We,
people who turn blind eyes to the cries,
As if suffering and anguish were mere lies.
Ignoring the plight that surrounds us all,
Humanity's downfall, a deafening fall.
But what of the animals, creatures so dear?
Caught in this cycle, their voices unclear.
Silently they suffer, their pain left unheard,
In nature's cruel script, an unspoken word.
Children on ground, black and white
Dying, Drying while survival trying.
Scars defining not body, but soul
Oh light, forgive us Lord.
The circle spins on, in sorrow it turns,
A tragic symphony,
where hope rarely burns.
In this poem of life,
where sadness takes hold,
Let us open our eyes,
let compassion unfold.”
―
“Life is moving much too fast.
I think I can’t catch up with it.
A little bird flew out of nowhere
and sat calmly on my shoulder.
No worries, I’m not afraid
of being left out now.
I’ll never chase life.
Instead, I’ll try to see, understand
and enjoy life as much as I can.
Little bird, you opened my eyes.”
―
I think I can’t catch up with it.
A little bird flew out of nowhere
and sat calmly on my shoulder.
No worries, I’m not afraid
of being left out now.
I’ll never chase life.
Instead, I’ll try to see, understand
and enjoy life as much as I can.
Little bird, you opened my eyes.”
―
“Maybe I will keep wanting more,
perhaps I cannot stop this
restless aching snore...”
― The Poetic Refuge: An Anthology
perhaps I cannot stop this
restless aching snore...”
― The Poetic Refuge: An Anthology
“And when I look into those eyes,
the world around me pauses,
everything that exists just stops at your gaze,
when it meets mine, rising the burning blaze...”
― The Poetic Refuge: An Anthology
the world around me pauses,
everything that exists just stops at your gaze,
when it meets mine, rising the burning blaze...”
― The Poetic Refuge: An Anthology
“Time is a slimy wimy thing,
Life is a blessy messy thing.
Love is a happy crappy thing,
Mind is a mighty fighty thing.”
― Sapionova: 200 Limericks for Students
Life is a blessy messy thing.
Love is a happy crappy thing,
Mind is a mighty fighty thing.”
― Sapionova: 200 Limericks for Students
“Happiness is a guest in life
Pain is part of life
The rainbow comes with rain.
The gray shade is part of life
It gives breath to a dead body.
Sometimes it kills your soul
Sweet or bitter, it doesn't matter what taste it has.
But love is a part of life
Some give you joy
Some break you badly in all
pleasant moments in the heart
or deep wounds in the soul
visible in your eyes, like a dark tear's trace
or decorate a pretty smile on your face
thousands of times scroll in your mind
even if unpleasant. but it has grace
Your biggest emotion's strife
Maybe it hurts you, like a sharp knife.
doesn't matter what color and shape it has
But memories are part of life.
You cry, you laugh, and you breathe
looks like a clown or a freak
wearing a mask to hide the truth.
not only life
Sometimes death is also part of life
Sometimes death is also part of life.”
― "Zaki's Gift Of Love"
Pain is part of life
The rainbow comes with rain.
The gray shade is part of life
It gives breath to a dead body.
Sometimes it kills your soul
Sweet or bitter, it doesn't matter what taste it has.
But love is a part of life
Some give you joy
Some break you badly in all
pleasant moments in the heart
or deep wounds in the soul
visible in your eyes, like a dark tear's trace
or decorate a pretty smile on your face
thousands of times scroll in your mind
even if unpleasant. but it has grace
Your biggest emotion's strife
Maybe it hurts you, like a sharp knife.
doesn't matter what color and shape it has
But memories are part of life.
You cry, you laugh, and you breathe
looks like a clown or a freak
wearing a mask to hide the truth.
not only life
Sometimes death is also part of life
Sometimes death is also part of life.”
― "Zaki's Gift Of Love"
“I am nothing like my past,
Before you swing your axe at me so fast.
There are questions you should ask .”
― Renegades And Other Soulful Poems
Before you swing your axe at me so fast.
There are questions you should ask .”
― Renegades And Other Soulful Poems
“Keep the sand filled shoes,
I will keep my feet,
Away with your red-hot porridge,
My birthright is mine to keep.”
― Renegades And Other Soulful Poems
I will keep my feet,
Away with your red-hot porridge,
My birthright is mine to keep.”
― Renegades And Other Soulful Poems
“It’s a new year but you don’t feel like a new you
Maybe instead you’re ruminating on your lows
And beating yourself up for how far you still must go
It’s easy to despair when we measure and compare
But it’s an illusion
It’s trivial, a distraction and meaningless fluff
For who you are now is more than enough
So, instead of thinking about how far you must run
Focus in on how far you have come.”
―
Maybe instead you’re ruminating on your lows
And beating yourself up for how far you still must go
It’s easy to despair when we measure and compare
But it’s an illusion
It’s trivial, a distraction and meaningless fluff
For who you are now is more than enough
So, instead of thinking about how far you must run
Focus in on how far you have come.”
―
“I will not call your name,
for it ignites the forgotten flame,
and burn me in this choiceless game...”
― The Poetic Refuge: An Anthology
for it ignites the forgotten flame,
and burn me in this choiceless game...”
― The Poetic Refuge: An Anthology
“Let us not make our gazes meet,
and lot's never smile at each other,
for who am I? but a mere stranger..”
―
and lot's never smile at each other,
for who am I? but a mere stranger..”
―
“Let us not make our gazes meet,
and let's never smile at each other,
for who am I? but a mere stranger...”
― The Poetic Refuge: An Anthology
and let's never smile at each other,
for who am I? but a mere stranger...”
― The Poetic Refuge: An Anthology
“He was alone yet he was happy, and that was his life's absurdity”
― The Poetic Refuge: An Anthology
― The Poetic Refuge: An Anthology
“And so my eyes wandered,
restless and sleepless,
searching for its lost light
that resided within you grace.”
― The Poetic Refuge: An Anthology
restless and sleepless,
searching for its lost light
that resided within you grace.”
― The Poetic Refuge: An Anthology
“The bullets and the guns
pierce through me
My Armor’s made of specter,
Still, the heart runs a scary beat”
― Woebegone Wynds
pierce through me
My Armor’s made of specter,
Still, the heart runs a scary beat”
― Woebegone Wynds
“তোমার বুকে অন্যকিছু থাকে
থাকুক, তাতে আঁচ লাগে না যেন
আমি কেবল মুহূর্ত, বুলবুলি
চোখ ফেরালেই ভুলতে বসো যাকে।”
―
থাকুক, তাতে আঁচ লাগে না যেন
আমি কেবল মুহূর্ত, বুলবুলি
চোখ ফেরালেই ভুলতে বসো যাকে।”
―
“And my poems will find
one of its kind,
It takes a heart to know me
and you are just too full of mind.”
― Ethereal
one of its kind,
It takes a heart to know me
and you are just too full of mind.”
― Ethereal
“Laughing with blood relatives
amidst memorable melodies
in the background, styrofoam
plate in hand, topped with
foods that restaurants can’t
duplicate, it hit me:
I don’t belong here.
Staring at an unbelievable
sunrise from a balcony villa
in Tanzania, it hit me:
I don’t belong here.
Recognized and awarded for
notable news journalism, a few
semesters away from achieving
a prestigious degree decorated
with promised opportunities,
it hit me: I don’t belong here.
Hoping quietly for the best, to
“win my husband over” with
traditional submission,
more frequent sex,
and minimized speech,
it hit me: I don’t belong here.
Walking down a dusty
Egyptian street filled with
the welcoming laughter of
carefree children, it hit me:
I don’t belong here.
Sitting in a church pew
notating another good
message, clapping to some
of my favorite songs, and
then exiting to talk with
familiar faces, it hit me:
I don’t belong here.
Communing with those who
know who the “real chosen”
are, beholding their unknown
names unmasked, and secret
knowledges revealed
to ponder incessantly,
it hit me: I don’t belong here.
Placed underneath the
wanting body of a rare man
who showed me
unprecedented love,
it hit me: I don’t belong here.
My soul.
My mind.
My body.
Each malnourished.
My community.
My life purpose.
Both misplaced.
All starving for home.
So, I moved. Not to what looks
and feels good for them, but to
what ”
―
amidst memorable melodies
in the background, styrofoam
plate in hand, topped with
foods that restaurants can’t
duplicate, it hit me:
I don’t belong here.
Staring at an unbelievable
sunrise from a balcony villa
in Tanzania, it hit me:
I don’t belong here.
Recognized and awarded for
notable news journalism, a few
semesters away from achieving
a prestigious degree decorated
with promised opportunities,
it hit me: I don’t belong here.
Hoping quietly for the best, to
“win my husband over” with
traditional submission,
more frequent sex,
and minimized speech,
it hit me: I don’t belong here.
Walking down a dusty
Egyptian street filled with
the welcoming laughter of
carefree children, it hit me:
I don’t belong here.
Sitting in a church pew
notating another good
message, clapping to some
of my favorite songs, and
then exiting to talk with
familiar faces, it hit me:
I don’t belong here.
Communing with those who
know who the “real chosen”
are, beholding their unknown
names unmasked, and secret
knowledges revealed
to ponder incessantly,
it hit me: I don’t belong here.
Placed underneath the
wanting body of a rare man
who showed me
unprecedented love,
it hit me: I don’t belong here.
My soul.
My mind.
My body.
Each malnourished.
My community.
My life purpose.
Both misplaced.
All starving for home.
So, I moved. Not to what looks
and feels good for them, but to
what ”
―
“To be 'psychopompous' is to live your life as if you know everything already. It's the arrogance and naivety that we all fall victim to as young adults.”
― Psychopompous: A collection of poems & essays
― Psychopompous: A collection of poems & essays
“It is said the sum of the numb means we have succumbed to acceptance. I call that self-rejecting.”
―
―
“She is different...but she is smarter than their sisters...
She is the one rose of roses...
She is pretty and special flower...
It´s a rose of roses
She smiles...she take cares about herself...she has pretty voice...she loves herself...she lives forever...
It´s a rose of roses...”
― POEMS: STORIES ABOUT GODDESSES
She is the one rose of roses...
She is pretty and special flower...
It´s a rose of roses
She smiles...she take cares about herself...she has pretty voice...she loves herself...she lives forever...
It´s a rose of roses...”
― POEMS: STORIES ABOUT GODDESSES
“Once we become our own ghosts,
we constantly ask how we died
and who ultimately killed us—
we never recall the moment
when everything turned against us,
how we drowned in the demands of life.
Like someone waking from a dream,
suddenly wary-eyed and cold,
we finally remember that we
haunted others and fled our own souls
by imitating their lives nearly perfectly,
yet death eventually caught up with us.
Somehow, we ask ourselves
where everyone else has gone and how
nothing ever escaped the mind we now possess.”
―
we constantly ask how we died
and who ultimately killed us—
we never recall the moment
when everything turned against us,
how we drowned in the demands of life.
Like someone waking from a dream,
suddenly wary-eyed and cold,
we finally remember that we
haunted others and fled our own souls
by imitating their lives nearly perfectly,
yet death eventually caught up with us.
Somehow, we ask ourselves
where everyone else has gone and how
nothing ever escaped the mind we now possess.”
―
“The story's not all,
What matters is who tells it—
Many voices, many ends.”
― Cherry Blossoms: A Haiku Poetry Book
What matters is who tells it—
Many voices, many ends.”
― Cherry Blossoms: A Haiku Poetry Book
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