Poetry Quotes

He isn't going to quote poetry; he's not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break.

If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel.

Listen, real poetry doesn't say anything; it just ticks off the possibilities. Opens all doors. You can walk through any one that suits you.

The world we suggest is a new wild west. A sensuous evil world. Strange and haunting, the path of the sun.

The Night is young & full of rest, I can't describe the way she's dress'd, She'll pander to some strange requests, Anything that you suggest, Anything to please her guest.

The world becomes an apparently infinite, yet possibly finite, card game. Image combinations, permutations, comprise the world game.

Choose the day and choose the sign of your day! The day's divinity! First thing you see!!

Do you know we are being led to Slaughters by placid admirals & that fat slow generals are getting, Obscene on young blood Do you know we are ruled by t.v.

Lying on stained, wretched sheets with a bleeding virgin, We could plan a murder, Or start a religion.

In the holy solipsism of the young Now I can't walk thru a city street w/out eying each single pedestrian. I feel thier vibe thru my skin, the hair on my neck - it rises.

Between childhood, boyhood, adolescence & manhood (maturity) there should be sharp lines drawn w/ Tests , deaths, feats, rites stories, songs, & judgements.

Most of the press were vultures descending on the scene for curious America aplomb. Cameras inside the coffin interviewing worms.

I am troubled, immeasurably by your eyes. I am struck by the feather of your soft reply. The sound of glass speaks quick, disdain and conceals what your eyes fight to explain.

There may be a time when we'll attend Weather Theaters to recall the sensation of rain.

Windows work two ways, mirrors one way. You never walk through mirrors or swim through windows.

All the poems have wolves in them. All but one. The most beautiful one of all. She dances in a ring of fire and throws off the challenge with a shrug.

You live you die and death not ends it.

Where are the feasts we were promised? Where is the wine, the new wine, dying on the vine.

I pressed her thigh and death smiled.

I'll never wake up in a good mood again. I'm tired of these stinky boots.