Free Verse Quotes

Quotes tagged as "free-verse" Showing 1-30 of 31
Ellen Hopkins
“Have you ever
had so much to say
that your mouth closed up tight
struggling to harness
the nuclear force
coalescing within your words?

Have you ever
had so many thoughts
churning inside you that you didn’t
dare let them escape
in case they blew you wide open?

Have you ever
been so angry that you
couldn’t look in the mirror
for fear of finding the face of evil
glaring back at you?”
Ellen Hopkins, "Crank"

G.K. Chesterton
“..."vers libre," (free verse) or nine-tenths of it, is not a new metre any more than sleeping in a ditch is a new school of architecture.”
G.K. Chesterton, Fancies Versus Fads

Sanober  Khan
“There is a moon,
that rests in the quiet corners
of a lover’s lips.”
Sanober Khan, A Thousand Flamingos

G.K. Chesterton
“Free verse is like free love; it is a contradiction in terms.”
G.K. Chesterton

Sanober  Khan
“in the end
it is words
poetry. sunsets
someone’s deep blue
silk voice.
mountain scents.
someone’s smile.
eyes. that we have
no defenses against.”
Sanober Khan

Sanober  Khan
“And stay, my dear
forever, as my quiet song,
in my lilac dawn.”
Sanober Khan, A Thousand Flamingos

Sanober  Khan
“When you left
you left behind a field
of silent flowers
under a sky
full of unstirred left
a million butterflies
mid-silky flutters

You left like midnight rain
against my dreaming ears

Oh and how you left
leaving my coffee scentless
and my couch comfortless

leaving upon my fingers
the melting snow of you

you left behind
a calendar full of empty days
and seasons full of aimless wanders

leaving me alone
with an armful of sunsets

your reflection behind
in every puddle
your whispers
upon every curtain
your fragrance
inside every petal

you left your echoes in between
the silence of my eyes

Oh and how you left
leaving my sands footless
and my shores songless

leaving me with windows full of
moistened moonlight

nights and nights
of only a half-warmed soul

and when you left...
you left behind a lifetime
of moments untouched

the light of a million stars

and when you left
you somehow
left my poem...unfinished.

(Published in Taj Mahal Review Vol.11
Number 1 June 2012)”
Sanober Khan

Ellen Bass
“If You Knew

What if you knew you'd be the last
to touch someone?
If you were taking tickets, for example,
at the theater, tearing them,
giving back the ragged stubs,
you might take care to touch that palm
brush your fingertips
along the lifeline's crease.

When a man pulls his wheeled suitcase
too slowly through the airport, when
the car in front of me doesn't signal,
when the clerk at the pharmacy
won't say thank you, I don't remember
they're going to die.

A friend told me she'd been with her aunt.
They'd just had lunch and the waiter,
a young gay man with plum black eyes,
joked as he served the coffee, kissed
her aunt's powdered cheek when they left.
Then they walked half a block and her aunt
dropped dead on the sidewalk.

How close does the dragon's spume
have to come? How wide does the crack
in heaven have to split?
What would people look like
if we could see them as they are,
soaked in honey, stung and swollen,
reckless, pinned against time?”
Ellen Bass, The Human Line

Sanober  Khan
“You should be more careful
when you move, my dear
what with you...

spilling moonlight
into my poem, with a mere
flick of your hand.”
Sanober Khan, A Thousand Flamingos

Sanober  Khan
“Scatter as a prayer
escaping my lips...

as orchids
blooming in clouds.”
Sanober Khan, A Thousand Flamingos

Friedrich Nietzsche
“Just as in the second part of a verse bad poets seek a thought to fit their rhyme, so in the second half of their lives people tend to become more anxious about finding actions, positions, relationships that fit those of their earlier lives, so that everything harmonizes quite well on the surface: but their lives are no longer ruled by a strong thought, and instead, in its place, comes the intention of finding a rhyme.”
Friedrich Nietzsche, Human, All Too Human: A Book for Free Spirits

Bryana Joy
“The ocean-blue bowl won’t
refuse to bruise, won’t hold it back
from the gaping earth-wounds.

There will still come
water, chill wind and happy

and in the utmost corners of oaks,
leaves laughing.”
Bryana Johnson, Having Decided To Stay

Ellen Bass
“Dead Butterfly
By Ellen Bass
For months my daughter carried
a dead monarch in a quart mason jar.
To and from school in her backpack,
to her only friend’s house. At the dinner table
it sat like a guest alongside the pot roast.
She took it to bed, propped by her pillow.

Was it the year her brother was born?
Was this her own too-fragile baby
that had lived—so briefly—in its glassed world?
Or the year she refused to go to her father’s house?
Was this the holding-her-breath girl she became there?

This plump child in her rolled-down socks
I sometimes wanted to haul back inside me
and carry safe again. What was her fierce
commitment? I never understood.
We just lived with the dead winged thing
as part of her, as part of us,
weightless in its heavy jar.”
Ellen Bass

Bryana Joy
“Friend who has fired the kingfishers
and flamed the dragonflies –
they catch your light however they move
and beam it out of their eyes.”
Bryana Johnson, Having Decided To Stay

Bryana Joy
“Never say savor when you only mean taste –
one is a holding on the tongue and an intoxication
and the other is cursory, a sampling, connoting
reluctance to bask. Never say a thing you don’t mean.”
Bryana Johnson, Having Decided To Stay

Bryana Joy
“It is something to have gazed on the constellated white,
felt it running from the eyes and the pores: the salt of love.

It is something to have whispered wild thank-yous
in the only ways we know how.”
Bryana Johnson, Having Decided To Stay

“A midst deceit I found the truth;

there in the rough I found a diamond.

And from the moment we met,

I think of no one else

Today I choose to be, to live and breathe;

to dream, to weep, and to sing in free verse.

And you, the object of my delight:

a like-minded opposite I am myself with,

a mind-fuck times six, seven, eight thousand and three.

I know that you love me with every inch of your deep.”
Donato DiCristino, Compound Delusions: The Rise and Fall of our Design

“From our solitude
we shall create,
forge songs ,
pour in the reflection
of the stars and
refresh the mind
about the silk-ridden roads
that wait for them
who have forgotten
to feel.”
Tara Estacaan

Jason  Reynolds
“Maybe you are a dancer
moving to the sound of your own future;
or a musician
banging strumming bowing plucking
blowing into,
creating soundtracks
for dream trains chugging along
through thick night;
or a painter
spilling and splattering confessions
across the face of stretched canvas;
or an actor
praying at the altar
of your alter ego;
or a photographer,
finger on the button
like a quick-draw cowboy,
not to kill anyone
but to preserve forever;
or maybe even
a writer
for some strange reason,
writing expert books,
pages of good intention
and rah-rah and fantasy
and sometimes truth,
or maybe even letters to people
you don't know but
do know you love.”
Jason Reynolds, For Every One

Author Jyoti Patel
I'm sorry but,
I’m going back to home.
To myself!

I realized,
Home is not the place I live in,
It is not where you are,
It is not somewhere in the world
Waiting for me to arrive but,
Home is wherever I am,
Home is within me.

It’s just been a really long time,
I’m going back to home.
To myself!”
Jyoti Patel, The Forest of Feelings

Author Jyoti Patel
“Though you left,
How can I still
Feel your presence?

You left but,
Your memories and
Your words are stuck with me.”
Jyoti Patel, The Forest of Feelings

Author Jyoti Patel
“His relentless lust
Failed to accept the demands of love,
He got back his senses
And responded to her
But, just too lately!”
Jyoti Patel, The Forest of Feelings

Author Jyoti Patel
“Sometimes, she burns bright
And sometimes, she flickers
But, ultimately
Her anger ends
And love prospers.”
Jyoti Patel, The Forest of Feelings

Erin Forbes
“Sing to me the song of our spirits,
Of laughter and love,
Of struggle and faith.

Sing to me the song of triumph and everlasting love.”
Erin Forbes

Criss Jami
“By(e) pen, I've tried my hand at poetry; only to see how boring it is to me. That is, unless I get a chance to destroy each and every piece while doing it as I please.”
Criss Jami, Healology

Joyce Rachelle
“I am bothered by poems I don't understand.”
Joyce Rachelle

“in case we ever lose each other
always remember this
our sign
and i will find you again
as i go to find my brother'
the painter promises”
Marie Burdett, The Little Boy and the Painter

“i painted it because i dreamed it
because we all dreamed it”
Marie Burdett, The Little Boy and the Painter

“why do you paint in the dark'
i ask him
and he looks not at me
but away

'because i cannot bear my own darkness
in the light'
he is quiet for some time
'but inwardly i am told where
there is paint to be
and i paint it there in the dark
so none can see myself truly
burning in the sun”
Marie Burdett, The Little Boy and the Painter

Jace Paul
“And when the heat caramelized the clouds,
The leaves turned as pages announcing a gilded age,
And when the clouds heaved and molted, the Earth remembered what hope was
one more time;
the fainted light stretched back to places distant and immemorable.
It was again as pure as the promise made in gritty dirt and bedrock,
Ages of industry and inequality buried once and for all,
Like dark matter at the edge of a wild, blue sky.”
Jace Paul

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