Poems are like dreams: in them you put what you don't know you know. — Adrienne Rich, Arts of the Possible: Essays and Conversations
Poems are like dreams: in them you put what you don't know you know. — Adrienne Rich, Arts of the Possible: Essays and Conversations
Poems are like dreams: in them you put what you don't know you know. — Adrienne Rich, Arts of the Possible: Essays and Conversations
Poems are like dreams: in them you put what you don't know you know. — Adrienne Rich, Arts of the Possible: Essays and Conversations
Poems are like dreams: in them you put what you don't know you know. — Adrienne Rich, Arts of the Possible: Essays and Conversations
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Poems are like dreams: in them you put what you don't know you know.

— Adrienne Rich, Arts of the Possible: Essays and Conversations
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More “Poetry” Quotes

Cup of JoeThere's nothing like a cup of joe,when the morning's grey and grim and slow,when the streets collide with the — Bo Burnham
I think that the habit of gloomy poetry is very funny. It’s like a special competition in losing. — Miroslav Holub
Remove the mask. Let me love the darkness you hide underneath. — Melody Lee, Moon Gypsy
At a night like this, where it's just me and the yellow moon,I feel complete. — Kamand Kojouri
O sun, heart of the heavens whose blood of lightInfuses the vigor which transmutes to azureThe black ice strangler of gr — Roger Gilbert-Lecomte
He moves in darkness as it seems to meNot of woods only and the shade of trees. — Robert Frost, North of Boston
How Many Michals Does it Take to Change a Lightbulb?And the lamp was onDarkening up the roomAnd I sat, aloneLooking for — Michal Coret, Becoming What I Might Be
She always walked under the arches of nightsAnd everywhere she wentShe leftThe mark of broken things. — Paul Éluard, Capital of Pain
Rejoice with glitters of ashes tonightSparkling for moon's spiced silver biteUpon skin of darkness, loving night moreSto — Munia Khan
I have found so much beauty in the dark,as I have found a lot of horror in the light. — Azereth Skivel
Darkness is the womb from which a poet is born. — Ged Thompson Liverpool Poet
Saturated Arrogance...she rebuked those about herin darkness did she dwella pathetic historyall mortal man would tell.. — Muse, Enigmatic Evolution