Quotes Tagged "poet"

If you don't like my face, you go to God; before my own mirror, nothing seems odd. If you don't like my guts, you come to me, so I can fix myself as well as thank thee.

When on your way home to your family, and you meet some friends who do invite thee, learn to say no, lest they’re dearer to you than your family who’s waiting for you. When you’re running late for sales appointment, and you see fuss over an accident, don’t you get drawn in by the commotion, lest you miss out on the presentation.

May I discard the outer cover of time from the layers of poetry by immersing the poet in its entirety within me

Antique Foundation Here I built the ruin in My voice on either side of me In the temple the ocean could Not be a crowd I mined The shore with fog the sun dries These bricks I built the vision in The cinder block that is the city Wall this grave Tone I speak with a picture Of myself in my wallet • Don’t be fooled by grass and these words Grass whispers Because they are real they are Ruinous Here, the gossip is in the dust Not the sea cloud enters the open Child’s window dimming the silver Flute’s sheen Where is he Who hears inside the brick those notes? There is a rumor in the city we’ll exist If he plays his song no one knows • Follow that shadow don’t tell me it’s mine Here there is no being alone Here are my hands which tore the leaves so Quietly in the temple the god Emerging from marble points at the chisel At the base of his stone Did I tell you Where I’m going? To the old man Who sings the margin Where on wave-tip swords turn edge over edge Wound us and the shore with foam • My face on either side of my face I tore My picture in half to show the gate You must climb inside your breath to leave As fog the wind will bear you— If you’re lovely—away In the spare clouds The children’s chorus Do you hear?— Where were you, and where are you going? Here I built the ruin in the stone-crushed Sage leaves my hands scented as long ago When I liked to press the desert against my head to think

YOU ARE JUST You are not just for the right or left, but for what is right over the wrong. You are not just rich or poor, but always wealthy in the mind and heart. You are not perfect, but flawed. You are flawed, but you are just. You may just be conscious human, but you are also a magnificent reflection of God.

WONDERLAND It is a person's unquenchable thirst for wonder That sets them on their initial quest for truth. The more doors you open, the smaller you become. The more places you see and the more people you meet, The greater your curiosity grows. The greater your curiosity, the more you will wander. The more you wander, the greater the wonder. The more you quench your thirst for wonder, The more you drink from the cup of life. The more you see and experience, the closer to truth you become. The more languages you learn, the more truths you can unravel. And the more countries you travel, the greater your understanding. And the greater your understanding, the less you see differences. And the more knowledge you gain, the wider your perspective, And the wider your perspective, the lesser your ignorance. Hence, the more wisdom you gain, the smaller you feel. And the smaller you feel, the greater you become. The more you see, the more you love -- The more you love, the less walls you see. The more doors you are willing to open, The less close-minded you will be. The more open-minded you are, The more open your heart. And the more open your heart, The more you will be able to Send and receive -- Truth and TRUE Unconditional LOVE.

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.

THIS This is a moment to remember, this, our breaths still heavy, the smell of summer gentle through the window, the sound of the world, not even a distraction, the words ‘I love you’ unneeded.

NIGHT TIME PASSIONS My tongue remembers your name. It whispers it to itself at night, thinking I am asleep, not realising its linguistic dance is keeping me from slumber. My tongue remembers your taste too, but keeps those wet memories to itself, no matter how much I ask.

It takes a deep and abiding love for yourself to have the patience to wait for the companion who is mentally healthy enough to see the beauty in your heart. No filters required.

I looked at you and only saw beautiful because legendary is the ability of a woman’s mind to weave fields of roses from thorns.

The pain broke through the skin, dismantled her pores, and ate away at everything that was once strong. She was laid bare with nothing to cling to.

She wants a warrior lover, with wild eyes, strong hands and a poet's heart.

And these aches in my heart create poetry!

i can gladly die today knowing that a part of me will always remain within you...

In an age when nations and individuals routinely exchange murder for murder, when the healing grace of authentic spirituality is usurped by the divisive politics of religious organizations, and when broken hearts bleed pain in darkness without the relief of compassion, the voice of an exceptional poet producing exceptional work is not something the world can afford to dismiss.

Stoicism is Buddhism without the dogma.

You’ll never truly know how strong your spiritual practice is until you’re faced with your own mortality. Until you’re faced with an incurable disease, and you realize that the greater battle is not one of body, but the one in your mind.

The most common act of violence is the relentless mental violence we perpetrate upon ourselves with nothing other than our thoughts.

Life is 99 percent attitude. Yet for the majority of people, it is the remaining one percent that dominates 99 percent of their life.