I am a poem in progresswith no clear beginning or endingjust a middleuntended, unintended,unfinished, hanging therelike — Jen Lynn Anderson, off the page
I am a poem in progresswith no clear beginning or endingjust a middleuntended, unintended,unfinished, hanging therelike — Jen Lynn Anderson, off the page
I am a poem in progresswith no clear beginning or endingjust a middleuntended, unintended,unfinished, hanging therelike — Jen Lynn Anderson, off the page
I am a poem in progresswith no clear beginning or endingjust a middleuntended, unintended,unfinished, hanging therelike — Jen Lynn Anderson, off the page
I am a poem in progresswith no clear beginning or endingjust a middleuntended, unintended,unfinished, hanging therelike — Jen Lynn Anderson, off the page
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I am a poem in progresswith no clear beginning or endingjust a middleuntended, unintended,unfinished, hanging therelike the breath before a question

— Jen Lynn Anderson, off the page
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More “Poetry” Quotes

One fine day, in the middle of the night, two dead boys got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other. They pulled — Holly Black, Valiant
The rain set early in tonight,The sullen wind was soon awake,It tore the elm-tops down for spite,And did its best to vex — Robert Browning
Will grinned. “Some of these books are dangerous,” he said. “It’s wise to be careful.”“One must always be careful of boo — Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel
My soul is wrapped in harsh repose,Midnight descends in raven-colored clothes,But soft... behold!A sunlight beamButting — Joss Whedon
ولأنني رغم القبور..ورغم موت الأرضأرفض أن أموت — فاروق جويدة, لأني أحبك
I sat, a solitary man,In a crowded London shop,An open book and empty cupOn the marble table-top.While on the shop and s — W.B. Yeats, The Winding Stair and Other Poems
Flutter like a hummingbird, Dive like an eagle, Ain't no bird that's my equal. - Twilight — Kathryn Lasky, The Capture
My words are the garment of what I shall never be Like the tucked sleeve of a one-armed boy. — W.S. Merwin, The Lice
One difference between poetry and lyrics is that lyrics sort of fade into the background. They fade on the page and live — Stephen Sondheim
After great pain, a formal feeling comes – The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs – The stiff Heart questions was it He, — Emily Dickinson, Selected Poems
O words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away — John Clare, Poems Chiefly from Manuscript
The secret of poetry is never explained - is always new. We have not got farther than mere wonder at the delicacy of the — Ralph Waldo Emerson