Total found: 488
A. Jarrell Hayes
Give a poet a pen
Adam Zagajewski
In summer the empire of insects spreads.
Adelheid Manefeldt
I sit on a rock and watch children playingin the park belowThey don't see meOr know my thoughtsOr that you haven't calledBut I forgive them their indifference todayAbove me a crow cawsPerhaps he smells the crumbs on my dressOr my angerBut he flits away over the treesProbably has a homeProbably has a wifeProbably knew to callThe children leaveThe coffee in my can turns coldThe wind nips at meSome street lights flicker onBut I won't moveNot yetI will wait for the night to chase meBack where I came fromUp the empty streetTo a quiet house
Akanksha Wadhavkar -Author of Motivational poems for starlit souls
A flower blossoms when there is sunlight,It closes itself in the absence of light..But I am a tree..I keep expanding even at night,I blossom even in the absence of sunlight!Because I trust myself more than anything else,I rely on myself more than anybody else!Self-confidence is indeed my power,Don't forget..I am a tree..not a flower!
Akanksha Wadhavkar -Author of Motivational poems for starlit souls
This life belongs to you dear,Don't live under any fear..You are an independent soul..you can do anything,You are a free soul..you can refuse to do a particular thing..You are different from them..you are a different soul,And you cannot get dominated by any other soul!Don't be rude..be generous …be kind,But THIS IS YOUR LIFE AND NOT THEIRS..keep this in mind!
Akanksha Wadhavkar ....Author of Motivational poems for starlit souls
They say The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step'Get up and take that step!Take baby steps if you want but go for it,Wait no longer…START IT!
Akanksha Wadhavkar( Motivational poems for starlit souls)
A no hurts but a broken promise hurts more, Listening to a no is not easy but a shattered wish stabs more! Don't ever promise anything that you will not be able to give, BECAUSE THE HEART BREAKS INTO A ZILLION PIECES WHEN PEOPLE PROMISE BUT DON'T GIVE .
Akshay Vasu
She was a poem and a painting too. Everything she said sounded like a song, every silence was the music too.
Alice Fulton
It's just me throwing myself at you,romance as usual, us times us,not lust but moxibustion,a substance burning closeto the body as possiblewithout risk of immolation.
Altruistic
Feelings and emotionran through my veinslike a hurricane.And that's when everythingbegan to look like poetry.
Ana Claudia Antunes
Pay to go inside Neruda's homeA body lies there with no dome.But right there in the front hallLean a fairy against the icy wall.Oh Endless enigmas had the bard!Nice and large and calm backyardEnds In the middle of a rare roomRare portrait of revelishing gloom.Up climbing at the weird snail stairDoes make you grasp for some air.And there's a room with bric-a-brac:Old and precious books all in a pack.Dare saying what I liked most of all?Enjoyed seeing visitors having a ball!
Ana Claudia Antunes
How I'm glad to go back home!Once I truly have no more worry. Many of those who are in a hurry Endure setbacks in the outcome.
Ana Claudia Antunes
In every possibility of a mind May you travel, yet not blind. As a head filled with imagination, Goes a heart full of gold creation, It's never late to have a dream. Nor is it so far away as it seems, And, like a rearview mirror reveals, Thus a fantasy soon becomes real. It may be closer than it appears. Or at least it will show up clear. Never give up a dream for fear!
Anaïs Nin
I'm restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.
Andrea Gibson
I would kiss you in the middle of the ocean during a lightning storm cuz I'd rather be left for dead than wondering what thunder sounds like.
Anjum Choudhary
Destruction wasn't when you chose to destroy me.It was when i let you.
Anjum Choudhary
I stopped losing my sleep over you...Now i lie awakein search of me!!
Anjum Choudhary
I was lost for too longbut when i found you,i could feel it in my bones.You were my home.
Anjum Choudhary
It's okay darling,creative people are called crazyall the time.
Anjum Choudhary
Take me to your darkest cornersand watch your demonssurrender to mine..
Anjum Choudhary
Master the art of selfloveand you will never have to seekvalidationever again.
Anjum Choudhary
You cannot free someonewho is caged intheir own self.
Anjum Choudhary
I am no one's to be claimed,I belong to me.
Ankita Singhal
Poetry is breathing words that gives a reader pause.
Ankita Singhal
the flames are silent,Peace is violent,Tears are frozen'cause massacre was chosen.~~ 26/11
Ankita Singhal
the flames are silent,Peace is violent,Tears are frozen'cause massacre was chosen.~~ 26/11
Annie Dillard
It looked as though the leaves of the autumn forest had taken flight, and were pouring down the valley like a waterfall, like a tidal wave, all the leaves of the hardwoods from here to Hudson's Bay. It was as if the season's colors were draining away like lifeblood, as if the year were molting and shedding. The year was rolling down, and a vital curve had been reached, the tilt that gives way to headlong rush. And when the monarch butterflies had passed and were gone, the skies were vacant, the air poised. The dark night into which the year was plunging was not a sleep but an awakening, a new and necessary austerity, the sparer climate for which I longed. The shed trees were brittle and still, the creek light and cold, and my spirit holding its breath.
Annie Dillard
I was in no tent under leaves, sleepless and glad. There was no moon at all; along the world's coasts the sea tides would be springing strong. The air itself also has lunar tides; I lay still. Could I feel in the air an invisible sweep and surge, and an answering knock in the lungs? Or could I feel the starlight? Every minute on a square mile of this land one ten thousandth of an ounce of starlight spatters to earth. What percentage of an ounce did that make on my eyes and cheeks and arms, tapping and nudging as particles, pulsing and stroking as waves?
Annie Dillard
Shadow is the blue patch where the light doesn't hit. It is mystery itself, and mystery is the ancients' ultima Thule, the modern explorer's Point of Relative Inaccessibility, that boreal point most distant from all known lands. There the twin oceans of beauty and horror meet. The great glaciers are calving. Ice that sifted to earth as snow in the time of Christ shears from the pack with a roar and crumbles to water. It could be that our instruments have not looked deeply enough. The RNA deep in the mantis's jaw is a beautiful ribbon. Did the crawling Polyphemus moth have in its watery heart one cell, and in that cell one special molecule, and that molecule one hydrogen atom, and round that atom's nucleus one wild, distant electron that split showed a forest, swaying?
Annie Dillard
This is what I had come for, just this, and nothing more. A fling of leafy motion on the cliffs, the assault of real things, living and still, with shapes and powers under the sky- this is my city, my culture, and all the world I need.
Annie Dillard
Those people who shoot endless time-lapse films of unfurling roses and tulips have the wrong idea. They should train their cameras instead on the melting of pack ice, the green filling of ponds, the tidal swings…They should film the glaciers of Greenland, some of which creak along at such a fast clip that even the dogs bark at them. They should film the invasion of the southernmost Canadian tundra by the northernmost spruce-fir forest, which is happening right now at the rate of a mile every 10 years. When the last ice sheet receded from the North American continent, the earth rebounded 10 feet. Wouldn't that have been a sight to see?
Annie Dillard
I want to think about trees. Trees have a curious relationship to the subject of the present moment. There are many created things in the universe that outlive us, that outlive the sun, even, but I can't think about them. I live with trees. There are creatures under our feet, creatures that live over our heads, but trees live quite convincingly in the same filament of air we inhabit, and in addition, they extend impressively in both directions, up and down, shearing rock and fanning air, doing their real business just out of reach.
Annie Dillard
Yes, it's tough, it's tough, that goes without saying. But isn't waiting itself and longing a wonder, being played on by wind, sun, and shade?
Annie Dillard
Our life is a faint tracing on the surface of mystery. The surface of mystery is not smooth, any more than the planet is smooth; not even a single hydrogen atom is smooth, let alone a pine. Nor does it fit together; not even the chlorophyll and hemoglobin molecules are a perfect match, for, even after the atom of iron replaces the magnesium, long streamers of disparate atoms trail disjointedly from the rims of the molecule's loops. Freedom cuts both ways. Mystery itself is as fringed and intricate at the shape of the air at times. Forays into mystery cut bays and fine fjords, but the forested mainland itself is implacable both in its bulk and in its most filigreed fringe of detail.
Annie Dillard
I have often noticed that these things, which obsess me, neither bother nor impress other people even slightly. I am horribly apt to approach some innocent at a gathering, and like the ancient mariner, fix him with a wild, glitt'ring eye and say, Do you know that in the head of the caterpillar of the ordinary goat moth there are two hundred twenty-eight separate muscles? The poor wretch flees. I am not making chatter; I mean to change his life.
Archibald MacLeish
And here face down beneath the sunAnd here upon earth's noonward heightTo feel the always coming onThe always rising of the night
Arunima Sinha
The real flight of this hawk is impending.Still,this bird is yet to be tested for real.Though I have leaped over the seas,well,the entire sky is still remaining to fly.And make sure that ,i am gonna do it with all my heart and all my soul.#loveyoourlife #liveyourlife #hvFUN
Arzum Uzun
Once upon a timeI fell in loveLost myselfAnd find another one.
Audre Lorde
and when we speak we are afraidour words will not be heardnor welcomedbut when we are silentwe are still afraidSo it is better to speakrememberingwe were never meant to survive
AVA.
some people are so deepyou fall into themand you never stop falling.
Ben Lerner
Our contempt for any particular poem must be perfect, be total, because only a ruthless reading that allows us to measure the gap between the actual and the virtual will enable to to experience, if not a genuine poem
Benjamin Alire Sáenz
What is this thing you call substance abuse? All I wanna do is forget and get loose.Drinking and smoking over and overWhat's so great about a life that's sober?There's nothing cool about being youngWhen the monsters of night have stolen the sun.I'm tired of searching for words in the sky.All I wanna do is drink and die. Nothing is real. It's all a big lie. All I wanna do is drink and die. There's nothing cool about being youngWhen the monsters of night have stolen the sun.
Benjamin Malachi Franklin
The WeaverMy life is but a weavingbetween my Lord and me;I cannot choose the colorsHe worketh steadily.Oft times He weaveth sorrowAnd I, in foolish pride,Forget He sees the upper,And I the underside.Not til the loom is silentAnd the shuttles cease to fly,Shall God unroll the canvasAnd explain the reason why.The dark threads are as needfulIn the Weaver's skillful hand,As the threads of gold and silverIn the pattern He has planned.
Benny Bellamacina
Going down in history is a dead end pursuit
Brian Jacques
So here is my story, may it bringSome smiles and a tear or so,It happened once upon a time,Far away, and long ago,Outside the night wind keens and wails,Come listen to me, the Teller of Tales!
Caleb Warta
Just know I amNot there to catch youBut I am there for you
Cecily von Ziegesar
Open the fridge and putMy heart on a plate.I'm just as you leftme, and I taste even betterleftover.
Charles Bukowski
the worst thing, he told me,is bitterness, people end up sobitter.
Charles Bukowski
I see a brightportionunder the overhead lightthat shades intodarknessand then into darkerdarknessand I can't see beyond that.
Charles Bukowski
Ya got cigarettes? she asks. Yes, I say,I got cigarettes. Matches? she asks.Enough to burn Rome. Whiskey?Enough whiskey for a Mississippi River of pain. You drunk? Not yet.
Charles Bukowski
the gods seldomgivebut so quicklytake.
Charles Bukowski
when I am feelinglowall i have to do iswatch my catsand mycouragereturns
Charles Bukowski
girlsplease give yourbodies and yourlivestothe young menwhodeserve thembesidesthere isno wayI would welcometheintolerabledullsenseless hellyou would bringmeandI wish youluckin bedandoutbut notinminethankyou.
Charles Bukowski
sometimes when everything seems atits worstwhen all conspiresand gnawsand the hours, days, weeksyearsseem wasted
Charles Bukowski
I care for you, darling, I love you,the only reason I fucked L. is because you fuckedZ. and then I fucked R. and you fucked N.and because you fucked N. I had to fuckY. But I think of you constantly, I feel youhere in my belly like a baby, love I'd call it,no matter what happens I'd call it love, and soyou fucked C. and then before I could moveyou fucked W., so I had to fuck D. ButI want you to know that I love you, I think of youconstantly, I don't think I've ever loved anybodylike I love you.
Charles Bukowski
sometimes when everything seems atits worstwhen all conspiresand gnawsand the hours, days, weeksyearsseem wasted
Charles Bukowski
having nothing to struggleagainstthey have nothing to strugglefor.
Charles Bukowski
as long as there arehuman beings aboutthere is never going to beany peacefor any individualupon this earth (oranywhere elsethey mightescape to).all you can dois maybe grabten lucky minuteshereor maybe an hourthere.somethingis working toward youright now, andI mean youand nobody butyou.
Charles Bukowski
I paid, got up, walkedto the door, openedit.I heard the mansay, that guy'snuts.out on the street Iwalked northfeelingcuriouslyhonored.
Charles Bukowski
the gods play nofavorites.
Charles Bukowski
she slammed the door andwas gone.I looked at the closed doorand at the doorknoband strangelyI didn't feelalone.
Charles Bukowski
when we were kidslaying around the lawnon ourbellieswe often talkedabouthowwe'd like todieandwe allagreed on thesamething;we'd alllike to diefucking(althoughnone of ushaddone anyfucking)and nowthatwe are hardlykidsany longerwe think moreabouthownot todieandalthoughwe'rereadymost ofuswouldprefer todo italoneunder thesheetsnowthatmost ofushave fuckedour livesaway.
Charles Bukowski
Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?
Charles Bukowski
be it peace or happinesslet it enfold you
Charles Wright
What makes us leave what we love best?What is it inside us that keeps erasing itselfWhen we need it most,That sends us into uncertainty for its own sakeAnd holds us flush there until we begin to love itAnd have to begin again?What is it within our own lives we decline to liveWhenever we find it, making our days unendurable,And nights almost visionless?I still don't know yet, but I do it.
Charlotte Eriksson
I never have time to write anymore. And when I do I only write about how I never have time. It's work and it's money and I've written more lists than songs lately. I stay up all night to do all these things I need to do, be all these things I want to be, playing with shadows in the darkness that shouldn't be able to exist. Empty bottles and cigarettes while watching the sunrise, why do I complain? I have it all, everything I ever asked for.
Christina Strigas
I do not trust the truth. It shifts into reality.
Clive Barker
Here is a list of terrible things,The jaws of sharks, a vultures wingsThe rabid bite of the dogs of war,The voice of one who went before,But most of all the mirror's gaze,Which counts us out our numbered days.
Connell, Steve
I notice you have the assault proof vest -So it's my fault I guess.So apparently I didn't say 'no' as loud as my clothes could say 'yes.'You see I didn't know that my 'no' wasn't enough -I didn't understand that my body became less precious because certain dresses make me look hot.And I guess if I'm wearing the wrong topthen my 'yes' is the same as 'stop.'And you shouldn't have to, just because I begged you to.I'm begging you -Tell me the magic outfit and I'll buy it.Apparently my 'no' wasn't heard,even when I screamed.So I need my clothes to be quiet.
Craig Ferguson
Twas the night before Thanksgiving. All the food's in the oven. And I'm in the bedroom performin' self lovin'.
Criss Jami
I'm a peasantI'm the muzhikA pest you're destined to play the musicAnd yes it's pleasant to say it's beauty I'mIndebted to rest respecting it truly
Criss Jami
You ask me why I don't speakNot a word at willBut write so much worth well over a mill'Well I value words like I value kissesA sober one, a closer one penetrates the heartDarling it's how it mends it
Criss Jami
Anger's like a battery that leaks acid right out of meAnd it starts from the heart 'til it reaches my outer me
Cristen Rodgers
Listen closely. Even the trees exhale sweet love songs that roll off their boughs and echo out to all of creation. Love is always in the air.
Cristen Rodgers
My mind is the sun,and my heart is the moon.In the sky between them,there I am.Cristen Rodgers
Cristen Rodgers
Be still my hand and let the words write themselves upon my heart. Be still my heart and let your pages be filled in silence.
Curtis Tyrone Jones
You'd corner me in your conformity but even in dormancy i'm sleeping with enormity, stretching the belly of the earth & everything i was born to be.
Curtis Tyrone Jones
Give it air & let the scar on your soul reveal itself, because, like the body, it too was made to heal itself.
Curtis Tyrone Jones
The sun still lives his silent vows to the moon, by bowing to kiss her feet whenever she walks in the room.
Curtis Tyrone Jones
You play me with your jazz & leave me with the blues.
Curtis Tyrone Jones
i am anearthquake& dancemost heavilyupon all myfaults.
Curtis Tyrone Jones
You are theremedy of intensityi need in my life, tospin me out of themiserable monotonyof working on life'sdaily assemblylines.
D. Antoinette Foy
There are no lungs like the ones that breathe poetry.
D. Antoinette Foy
Don't be afraid to be afraid. Have fear, and then conquer the shit out of it.
Daniel Saint
She wore her scarsas her best attire.A stunning dressmade of hellfire.
Debasish Mridha
Feel the kiss of ocean breeze,Hear the song of dancing waveLet your soul fly away with seagullsTo fill the heart with the joy of life.
Debasish Mridha
Peace is a road to happiness and the future.War is a road to destruction and death.
Debasish Mridha
Dance with the waves of sea and sing with the sky,touch the sands with love and let your mind fly high.
Debasish Mridha
A beautiful poem is nothing but a mirror of philosophy through which we can see life's pure beauty.
Debasish Mridha
A poem is a painting with imagery and words; a painting is a poem of color on a reflecting mirror.
Debasish Mridha
So beautiful but so bountiful.So delicate but so fresh.So magical but so simple.So much to say but yet so silent.So loving and so pleasant.Oh, flowers of charming love,You are life's joy and present.
Debasish Mridha
Oh the beauty of nature! Oh the magical heart touching flower.My heart wants to bloom like you with love, joy, and laughter.
Dejan Stojanovic
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem but that is impossible; the world has written its own.
Dominic Riccitello
You didn't understand the poem, but that was because it wasn't for you. It was for me to understand the pain you put me through.
Donald Hall
As Henry Moore carvedor modelled his sculpture every day,he strove to surpass Donatello4. and failed, but woke the next morningelated for another try.
Dragos Bratasanu
Take a tram ride today.
Recognise a dear friend in everyone around. 
Speak kindly to yourself.
It is only your thoughts that bring you fear.
You've been through a lot. 
There is perfect peace in this moment.
Dylan Thomas
The only sea I saw Was the seesaw sea With you riding on it. Lie down, lie easy. Let me shipwreck in your thighs.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
TO what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. The sun is hot on my neck as I observe The spikes of the crocus. The smell of the earth is good. It is apparent that there is no death. But what does that signify? Not only under ground are the brains of men Eaten by maggots. Life in itself Is nothing, An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs. It is not enough that yearly, down this hill, April Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.
Edvard Munch
My whole life has been spent walking by the side of a bottomless chasm, jumping from stone to stone. Sometimes I try to leave my narrow path and join the swirling mainstream of life, but I always find myself drawn inexorably back towards the chasm's edge, and there I shall walk until the day I finally fall into the abyss.
Edwin Arnold
Sweetest smile is made saddest tear-drop!
Edwin Markham
He drew a circle that shut me out-Heretic , rebel, a thing to flout.But love and I had the wit to win:We drew a circle and took him In !From the poem Outwitted
Elizabeth Brooks
Everything is all right,When you're here,When you're right next to me,When my hand is in yours,Don't leave me,Don't leave me empty handed.
Emm Roy
Mental illness People assume you aren't sick unless they see the sickness on your skin like scars forming a map of all the ways you're hurting. My heart is a prison of Have you tried?s Have you tried exercising? Have you tried eating better? Have you tried not being sad, not being sick? Have you tried being more like me? Have you tried shutting up? Yes, I have tried. Yes, I am still trying, and yes, I am still sick. Sometimes monsters are invisible, and sometimes demons attack you from the inside. Just because you cannot see the claws and the teeth does not mean they aren't ripping through me. Pain does not need to be seen to be felt. Telling me there is no problem won't solve the problem. This is not how miracles are born. This is not how sickness works.
Emma Ghent Curtis
Behold yon rough and flinty roadWhere youth, now youth no more,Gropes whining, seeking crumbs of loavesHe cast away of yore.
Erik Pevernagie
Let us keep enough money to enjoy each breath we take, but definitely not too much, if we don't want to spoil the fragrance of our dreams and the poem of life.
Ezra Pound
The Garden En robe de parade. - SamainLike a skein of loose silk blown against a wallShe walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens,And she is dying piece-mealof a sort of emotional anaemia.And round about there is a rabbleOf the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor.They shall inherit the earth.In her is the end of breeding.Her boredom is exquisite and excessive.She would like some one to speak to her,And is almost afraid that I will commit that indiscretion.
Fabian W. Williges
The first thing fading is your beautythe least trustworthy is your minddown here on this earthnothing's of any worth
Fabian W. Williges
The first thing fading is your beautythe least trustworthy is your minddown here on this earthnothing's of any worth
Federico García Lorca
El remanso de airebajo la rama del eco.El remanso del aguabajo fronda de luceros.El remanso de tu bocabajo espesura de besos.*The still waters of the airunder the bough of the echo.The still waters of the waterunder a frond of stars.The still waters of your mouthunder a thicket of kisses.- Variación / VariationsTranslated from the Spanish by Lysander Kemp
Frederick Espiritu
Be you.That, my friend,is the change you wantto become in the world.
Frederick Espiritu
My heart and my soul are best of friends.And their friendship startedthe day you and I first met.
Gabriel Hemery
A verse from a short poem - 'Philosophy is Forestry's Child' - in my Foreword:Ask not which came first, the acorn or the oak.We came as children of the forest;First our wooden cradle, then our kindling for industry.Instead think forward
Gena Showalter
Roses are red, violets are blue, I have five fingers, the middle one is for you.
Giorge Leedy
MOMWholeheartedly,She loved me-And inspired me-With transcending devotion.It was a blessing-To have been her son,To have been loved-Without conditions.Her words of wisdom-Opened my eyes-To the world-And to myself.By seeing the best in me, She empowered me.By believing in me, She transformed me.She grew old-And floated away,But her love remains standing-Eternally by my side.
Giorge Leedy
MISERABLERelease the toxic and infectious-Spreaders of misery,Souls destroying souls-And poisonous liars.Awaken from the hallucinations-And take back your heart.Reclaim your self-esteem-And leave the toxic be.
Harry Whitewolf
The U.K. should begin with an FAnd have a C after the U,And it should end in E DNow that we've left the E.U.
Hasil Paudyal
May be its mine bad-luck Or yours not to get me But I still have hope Of being yours
Hazel Gaynor
With the rumble of the waterfall in the distance, I slipped into sleep and dreamed of a red-haired girl holding a posy of white flowers. The words of Mr. Noyes's poem crept from the pages of my picture book and tiptoed into my mind. Then you blow your magic vial, / Shape it like a crescent moon, / Set it up and make your trial, / Singing, 'Fairies, ah, come soon!
Holly Ducarte
Gentle whispers from above Awakened me more Than ever did This loud world
Hubert Martin
He spoke in polished honesty free of liar's filth. He said the hardest words with an unshakable voice, a wide smile, with fear and doubt freezing over his core. The truth was the best route, but the truth could always be costly... another truth. A sad truth.
Hubert Martin
In time, he began to see the details that held us like invisible stitches together. The scars we held within, the tears despite our dry faces. He saw the little sigh that came with the song. The way our breathing became labored even though nothing seemed wrong. He peeked into the aimless gaze of daydreamers, reliving their worst moments, commending them on being so strong.
Hubert Martin
She was starmetal bones with kaleidoscope eyes. A cracked framework of unique beauty, a patchwork portrait filled with swirling brush strokes, an amalgamation of delicate light and detailed shatter. I could write a novel about the way she breathes.
Hubert Martin
His eyes are covered by impermeable marble, a solidity that can never be breached. You think there is gold and warmth behind the facade of cold, but if only you could see your reflection in the marble. You would see how you burn, how brightly you glow, enough to incinerate anyone else whole.
Hubert Martin
That's what really broke me, she was better than any fantasy I could hope to imagine. I've spent my life creating, yet she was pristine the likes of which I could never fashion.
Hubert Martin
I spill my emotions and hopes on pieces of paper and pixels of screens, combining and creating, merging traditional methods with artificial means.Words carved in ink and electricity to facilitate simplicity and eradicate toxicity. No matter what fashion, form, font, method or avenue, the simplest and most meaningful words remain ever so true; I choose and love, only forever you.
Hubert Martin
I was burdened with an ever-growing heart on the verge of decay. To save myself, I had to give many pieces of my love away. I hope I can give it all to someone, someday.
Hubert Martin
With ravenous passion and reckless ambition he forged his thoughts into words, obsessed with the notion that dying would not be the last thing he would do.
Hubert Martin
You are whole today, looking back at fragments of the past. Such a hollow foundation for such a powerful person.
Hubert Martin
She was small. Her shadow moved in the dance of chaos before her as the inferno blazed behind her and licked the sky with its many tongues. She clutched an indistinguishable toy with both arms tightly. Her face was serene. Her eyes shone with courage more immense than the surrounding flames. She was small, but at that moment, I've never seen a bigger person.
Hubert Martin
Hoping fast that my arrow's flight is steady and true, I need this, I need my arrow to find you, To pierce your skin and enter your undecided heart, Please, oh please, this can be our brand new start, Maybe it's not meant to be, Maybe my arrow will miss and strike a tree, But my love for you is strong, it guides my arrow, I cannot miss, the window to your heart is very narrow, It slams shut igniting embers and sparking fury spatter, To my heart and your window, we are known as 'shatter.
Hubert Martin
Inside, my soul is curled tightly bearing the burden of massive sins from another life. And my eyes look far at the hell around me... a sharp grin tugs at the corner of my lips.
Hubert Martin
...4-5-6: when time escapes the day in its most beautiful way. She starves for that beauty, she longs to quench her limitless thirst, but those moments are so fleeting and their limit is her unrest. Her bones are hollow and heavy as she takes a single step, and in that instant she is gone, blinded by the flash of a stray ray of light, her eyes close in that moment and stars flood her night. She falls forward slow, counting the half seconds of her descent. Her eyes stay closed, her thoughts are spent.
Hubert Martin
My scars show you I've been strong enough to endure the trauma of the world. My heart has no scars, my heart hangs in tatters only visible to those who see with more than their eyes. And my soul, well, my soul is comprised of pristine shatter, held together only because each individual piece is falling apart. They fall apart the right way though, that's why I still play this facade of being one and whole.
Hubert Martin
These places I traveled through, they were a lot like the people I knew. Some abodes I muddled about for a day or two, others entertained my thoughts for a year or a few. Each place and person gave me wisdom or growth, and, if I was lucky, sometimes I'd get both.
Hubert Martin
And once the ripples still and the water returns to its unwavering calm, even the pebble that broke its surface will be forgotten. And the world will go on.
Hubert Martin
Adventures kept hidden, words kept silent. You became my greatest secret. And when you left, no one knew the source of the pain I felt. No one knew you existed, except my writhing heart.
Hubert Martin
I was lost in the moments I decided to keep. To be awake in a dreamless sleep. And in that place between dream and sleep, I planted some more things I would like to keep.
Hubert Martin
I realized the world around me was fragmented and broken... I had to be gentle enough not to scrape against the jagged pieces. I would not be cut today.
Hubert Martin
I was the wings that kept her aloft, while the churning sea of reality nipped at her feet. I kept her from drowning, but I still felt bad, that her toes had to experience such dreadful cold.
Hubert Martin
The brittle seeds remained inside my soul, my tears the water that begged them to grow. And though I hate to admit it, you are my sun. Your light and warmth the last variables needed to see the seedlings burst and anchor. The roots in my soul, the flower and fruit in yours.
Hubert Martin
She was the sort of girl who flooded my five senses. Her voice was melody to my ears, her taste gave birth to an eternal thirst, her scent sprouted goosebumps along the length of my body, her touch riveted with electricity that would've been static with any other... all these things considered, it was impossible for me not to stare. I began to see her everywhere, in everything.
Hubert Martin
That last bit of hope always lingered as a stubborn thread. Every time I would try to cut it I would feel it... a pulse. My pulse. My blood is hope.
Hubert Martin
The storm only grew stronger. Walls of facets became flooded with cracks, the tumultuous gale escaped through the smallest crevice. With her arms spread wide and all her muscles hard and taunt, she broke free from the chrysalis, letting loose her new wings and that mighty storm. I thought it was over, but I was wrong. She spread her wings and sang her song. She rode upon the howl of wind until she was gone.
Hubert Martin
He gave up. No hint of ember behind his eyes nor life in his breath. He snipped the last, overstretched strand of hope, and nicked the strand of life by mistake. He did it with his hands.
Hubert Martin
I wanted nothing more than her attention. Her thoughts filled with me. Her eyes lost in my image. I wanted her so badly I didn't even realize I lost myself in the process. Now, when I look in the mirror, I only see her... where is me?
Hubert Martin
I think I feel it The nimble, fleeting emotion That novels and authors desperately Try to convey in ink and heart blood Whose shadow festers in the loins Of teenagers and their insatiability The hidden thing none of us can see Yet we all disagree what it looks like If only it were love... simple, infinite love But this was more, this was bloodshot madness.
Hubert Martin
When it came to her, I became an indomitable warrior. My muscles became her shield and my lungs aided her breath. She would not fall with me by her side, for I was the wings that sprouted from her back. No one would cross her without first having to survive my wrath.
Hubert Martin
Just being around her made me feel better. She had an amber shade aura to her that filled any cracks and brokenness I hadn't yet fixed. I could be myself around her, knowing full well she held on as I let go.
Hubert Martin
An outline, my body, no mass or feeling, A dark reflection spread from floor to ceiling, The faceless copycat stalks me day after day, A personal eclipse of the sun never going astray, Each movement mine in a world of its own, Whispering shades unseen of a different home, A skewed yet comparable story occurs every day, Removed, though not far, less than halfway, The whiter the glow the blacker the stain, An ethereal cachet remaining midst the acidic rain, A trust and intimacy of a curious nature, I follow, it follows, we follow a stranger.
Hubert Martin
I held my breath tightly against the shivers coursing through my body. Darkness ate away the edges of my vision and numbness stole away my fingers. I kept holding though. Watching the last bubble of precious air escape my lips. Then it became all black. But I never let go.
Hubert Martin
He sang softly, less with words and more with thought. She cradled his head, stitching together his fragmented heart.
Hubert Martin
She was poetry written in pen, scribbled and scrawled again and again.
Hubert Martin
I always thought time was the most valuable currency, but I realized the people we spent our time on and loved us back, that love held even more meaning to me.
Hubert Martin
Stop the bleeding! Gauze the wound! And his voice became much softer, Those are the words... I've yet to write. He died with that exhale. He died in a steaming carmine pool of unwritten stories that incredibly cold night. He always thought his work would take the form of ink, pen and paper, but as the last glow dimmed in his eyes, he realized his most meaningful words were sloppily spilled and patched together using blood, bullet holes and concrete.
Hubert Martin
And though they fell as ashes, their shadows drifted as leaves.
Hubert Martin
It was a slow fall, through warm experiences and good laughs. It didn't even feel like love until I got to the end. Even then, it was not the hard surface of rock, but the scorching embrace of more.
Hubert Martin
Every decision, every single one, comes with a price to pay. It means you chose one thing over another, always. Whether you chose right or wrong, that cost remains constant. It's a permanent life tax. That's where taxes come from.
Hubert Martin
She is beyond any mortal structure of words, yet she inspires the effort to try anyway.
Hubert Martin
As I watched the sky morph shades of amber and amethyst, of fiery orange and smoldering pink, I always wondered if colors and images like these once inspired the greats before us to construct their beauty and masterpieces.
Hubert Martin
I wear my past around my shoulders as a fine, but worn, cloak. Don't be fooled by my cloak's appearance, I have a three piece underneath.
Hubert Martin
I love her, but every hug leaves bullet holes in my chest. Every kiss is another scar upon my flesh. Every thrust, every touch, every moan that escapes her lips...they are famine to my soul, and I still can't let her go.
Hubert Martin
It was the end for something. It was the beginning for another. But in reality it just fell in the middle. In that confusing moment of time between my birth and my death.
Hubert Martin
I don't know anymore, whether it's a curse or a blessing to see the beauty in the ugly. Growing up simply and getting old complexly. I now see reason behind sin, and love behind pain.
Hubert Martin
She was the half-whispers born from half-thoughts, the half-breaths of dying half-hearts.
Hubert Martin
She was exactly right and wrong in the perfect sort of way. This kiss would be the first of many, she was the type of girl I would desperately fight for to stay.
Hubert Martin
What do you do when your words aren't enough? What do you do when your actions have no effect? What do you do when all the fibers of your existence scream just to be heard? And yet, only the most deafening silence returns the echoes of your screams. Is there something beyond words and action?
Hubert Martin
It was a burden on all her muscles. A hollow deeper than her bones. She braced herself though, she knew why Atlas stood so tall.
Hubert Martin
She speaks in heartbeats and the rises of her chest, words forever seared in thoughts that will never rest.
Hubert Martin
The flicker, the flutter, even thoughts can stutter.
Hubert Martin
On these days, I've never felt so hollow. Recollecting the many pieces of me that were lost in past sub-lives. They were the minor characters of my novel life, the sub-plots to the whole story. On these days I was the binding that held the book together, I was not the words.
Hubert Martin
It was her eyes. Soft, meadow-shade eyes with frostbitten edges. Every glance casually held gossamer infinity. Every stare revealed inky black abyss with a hint of divinity.
Hubert Martin
She had the blood of the sun running through her veins and the dust of stars at her fingertips. Her every breath birthed new cosmos and her thoughts were the super moon of the darkest night. Every word was a supernova and every step an inescapable singularity. Her touch though...it was soft.
Hubert Martin
Anyone who claims good or evil isn't one or either, they're just a liar... the worst kind of liar... the liar that doesn't even know they're lying. We're human. We're good during the day and evil at night, half the time those roles are reversed, that's what it's all about.
Hubert Martin
Whether it was in the maze of my fantastical mind or the allure of her gossamer eyes, they took me to undiscovered worlds of azure and metamorphosis. The air shimmered with every breath, the water tightened with every sound.
Hubert Martin
And they danced with laughter and tears. They swung each other round and round, the first and last time in years.
Hubert Martin
She was carmine shadows reflecting from my crimson words. Every pulse sent a velvet ripple through the shade. Every breath, a scarlet pause.
Hubert Martin
And in my novels I live many lives. Substitutes of spontaneity to replace a dreary reality. How I live for those inky black words and kaleidoscope colored experiences.
Hubert Martin
Though I exist in the realms of day and night, I'm only truly alive in the moments between.
Hubert Martin
All my past heartache and pain suddenly made sense. That was who I would not be to the person who deserves the best of me.
Hubert Martin
He accepted new ideas as readily as new trends. Knowing those worth it would last and the lessers will pass.
Hubert Martin
Her words were slickly lacquered, dripping with venom that singed the air as they fell. She traced her tongue up my neck and whispered in a way that would shatter glass. It's the words inbetween, she said, those are the ones I truly mean. Then, her toes curled with the release of the truth she kept hidden.
Hubert Martin
An intricate string made up of infinite knots and curls. Taking a step back, it really did seem so fragile. As if the smallest breeze of opportunity would cause it to snap. It held strong though, fastened to me and you as a line of steel.
Hubert Martin
She's an array of undiscovered words, of feeling beyond my threshold. I'm just a man, trying to hold himself together in her wake.
Hubert Martin
We are the living whole of the fragments from the things we've experienced and people we've encountered. Each interaction changes us in a subtle or massive way. The masterpiece we are sheds it's weathered skin, becoming even more than it was before.
Hubert Martin
I always deemed myself a one chance person, if you hurt me or betray me, then I'm done with you. As I grew older and the scars of wisdom imprinted on my soul and chest, I realized a second chance took a monumental amount of strength and some people deserve a chance to right their wrongs. Now, I would gladly allow another the opportunity to cauterize their wounds at the risk of ripping open my tight-knit scars. I would bleed for you and feel alive rather than watch with cold eyes as you decay.
Hubert Martin
Our bodies are made of supernova dust, the epitome of ultimate destruction and shatter. And though we are whole, beings with bodies and souls, with cosmos in our eyes and black heart holes, we love as fiercely as the force of creation.
Hubert Martin
They surrounded me, bare me. Their fingers like tentacles and their desires like knives. Their fingers traced my secrets and their desires carved my skin.
Hubert Martin
Woven words are little conviction when I present myself as a man of fiction.
Hubert Martin
My body held on though I held snapped threads in my hands and patches of my flesh were missing entirely. I was proud of my little mess... all the mistakes, every scar and every tear, told a story of a life I was strong enough to bear. I wear a patch of pride upon my chest, showing all my self-glory of the good times and the rest.
Hubert Martin
The scribbles in my notebook are a reflection of you. Every line holds your name. Every paragraph a feature of yours I love. Each page is a memory of moments that took my breath away. Of times when I laughed more than my lungs would allow. My notebook is full, but I always knew only one would hardly contain all of you.
Hubert Martin
My heart may be bruised and scarred, bleeding slow drip-drip with every thump and every other thump-thump that widens unsealable wounds. My heart is the strongest part of me. It's survived everything I've thrown at it and much more than it should.
Hubert Martin
It only took a corny joke, but the smile I saw shone brighter than a glare, more profound than a star. And the best thing... it was so genuine. It was so her. I never thought I could fall more in love.
Hubert Martin
In a way, she became the sand to my hourglass... she made watching that trickling sand a little more bearable. I no longer worried about what would happen when the sand ran out. I began to see the spark each grain held as it fell.
Hubert Martin
Everyone is their own, though they are so alone. They all sit on their imagined thrones, made only of their own bones. Ego and pride make exquisite delusional cushions.
Hubert Martin
She was poetry written in pen, scribbled and scrawled again and again. Ink splattered across the page. And within those scratched words, those small, sharp incisions, an image can be seen and you're left to wonder what, in the end, this all could mean.
Hubert Martin
I wanted to know every story behind the scars on her curves. I wanted to decipher the whispers hidden beneath her every breath. I wanted to unravel her with my hands.
Israelmore Ayivor
Don't pack out______________To some people, you make life brightWhen you decide to dim your lightTheir lives will be full of darknessDo shine your light in kindnessTo some people, you bring out a joyWith their emotions, never ever toyWith your smiles, grease them with oilAnd make them glad when their lives boilTo other people, you are the warmthThat kills coldness and brings strengthDon't do it; don't pack outElse, they will have blackoutYou're on earth to do two things hereWake up and do them now; this yearFirst, dare to grow and become betterSecond, help others to also become greaterNever in any of the four seasonsShould you neglect your gifts for any reasonsThe world needs you to make it a better placeDon't pack out; run your race
Israelmore Ayivor
Don't pack out!To some people, you make life brightWhen you decide to dim your lightTheir lives will be full of darknessDo shine your light in kindnessTo some people, you bring out a joyWith their emotions, never ever toyWith your smiles, grease them with oilAnd make them glad when their lives boilTo other people, you are the warmthThat kills coldness and brings strengthDon't do it; don't pack outElse, they will have blackoutYou're on earth to do two things hereWake up and do them now; this yearFirst, dare to grow and become betterSecond, help others to also become greaterNever in any of the four seasonsShould you neglect your gifts for any reasonsThe world needs you to make it a better placeDon't pack out; run your race.
Israelmore Ayivor
Break out to go out:The birds dare to break the egg shellIt does so in order to get out of that HellWhen it finally succeeds, it'll then flyTo its comfort zone it'll say byeAre you being confined in a small spaceHow long will you remain at that place?Before you can explore more territories,Break away from the former glories.Yesterday's excellence is today's averageYou must strive to be better age after ageNever accept the available mediocrityAs the only preferable opportunityDecide to grow from below to heroAnd make it a point to vacate level zeroReach out and arise with powerGod's blessings on you, will showerAgree to grow, never attempt to be slowBe not afraid. Never doubt. You'll flowThe grace of God will be your guideTaking you along, side by side.
Israelmore Ayivor
To know if someone can speak offensively or politely, don't give him poem to recite; don't give him a song to sing. Just engage him in an argument and you will know it for yourself who he is.