poetry-quotes

With all control look for the hole, your mind gets weak, unless it__ truth you seek. Swirled and twirled into another world, into the smog, a doorway within the fog._ Deetkatu, The Little People Journey into the Mystic Sea

KUNDALINI DANCEDark and cold and wet were Her handsI felt Her chilly breath inside my throatHer claws deep inside trying to find traces ofFear within meI stayed still Accepting Opening ReceivingWithin a moment She was insideTwo fingers below My belly buttonIn there She found no traces of shiversno traces of resistance, no traces of weaknessjust clear pure Passage-WayThen She grew into Her most powerful SelfShe stood undisturbed, unmoved, unchangedTotally free and She screamedAAAAAUUUUUUMMMFrom the centre of the earth, Through the tunnels of the caves, To the surface of the volcanoesAAAAUUUUUUMMMMTo open: Mountain tops untouched by clouds and rainCherry fields in their full blossomA dog running after a train filled with the excitementA witch laughing at passers-by mirroring their paranoiaDeath looking us in the eyes searching for the chosen Few Capable to see the Key behind Her magic veil

Let the wet earth embrace you firmly, soundly. She needs to be revived, she needs to beat like a heart full of adrenaline inside a chest.

A single poem, alonecan turn tidesscatter galaxiesand burst forth with riversfrom paradise.

Watch, how the sunslowly risesfrom behind my earnew lines, new countriesspring up in my palmsmy rough hairbecome swaying silkand all the leavesin my bodybecome lusher than fruits.

Sit here, so I may writeyou into a poem and make you eternal.

I can't remember the poemThat pierced through my heartIt was the saddest I heardOf all truths ever spokenIt left a scar in meA wound that doesn't healBut the words are forgottenSo is a big part of me

I read for pleasureIn search of fictional worldsTo enrich my truths

To read a poemIs to see light where there is darknessIs to hear silence where there is noiseIs to dance where there is no musicIs to sing where the only instrument is wordsAnd the stirring, impassioned pauses

The same word we love and hate, leaves in different directions, taking different paths.

A smiling lie is a whirlwind, easy to enter, but hard to escape.

Poetry isn__ an island, it is the bridge. Poetry isn__ a ship, it is the lifeboat. Poetry isn__ swimming. Poetry is water.

Art is a distinct form of human communication. Art interprets experience, sensation, and feelings. An artistic work translates our mental images and allows other people to understand what we feel; art conveys our happiness, sadness, hopes, doubts, anxieties, fears, desires, and ineffable longings.

We love the imperfect shapes in nature and in the works of art, look for an intentional error as a sign of the golden key and sincerity found in true mastery.

From whichever side I start, I think I am in an old place where others have been before me.

In trying to be perfect, He perfected the art of anonymity, Became imperceptible And arrived nowhere from nowhere.

Sound unbound by nature becomes bounded by art.

Perfection seems sterile; it is final, no mystery in it; it's a product of an assembly line.