Pain Poems Quotes

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Pain Poems Quotes

Poetry can unleash a terrible fear. I suppose it is the fear of possibilities, too many possibilities, each with its own endless set of variations. Its like looking too closely and too long into a mirror; soon your features distort, then erupt. You look too closely into your poems, or listen too closely to them as they arrive in whispers, and the features inside you - call it heart, call it mind, call it soul - accelerate out of control. They distort and they erupt, and it is one strange pain. You realize, then, that you cant attempt breaking down too many barriers in too short a time, because there are as many horrors waiting to get in at you as there are parts of yourself pushing to break out, and with the same, or more, fevered determination.
— Jim Carroll —

Those of us who make up poems have agreed not to say what the pain is.

— Robert Bly

Poetry can unleash a terrible fear. I suppose it is the fear of possibilities, too many possibilities, each with its own endless set of variations. It's like looking too closely and too long into a mirror; soon your features distort, then erupt. You look too closely into your poems, or listen too closely to them as they arrive in whispers, and the features inside you - call it heart, call it mind, call it soul - accelerate out of control. They distort and they erupt, and it is one strange pain. You realize, then, that you can't attempt breaking down too many barriers in too short a time, because there are as many horrors waiting to get in at you as there are parts of yourself pushing to break out, and with the same, or more, fevered determination.

— Jim Carroll

I can pull you taut, Ashleigh. Like the poems. I can bring you back together. You are so fucking delicious, Ashleigh. So fucking perfect. I wish I could take this pain away from you, really, I swear I feel your sadness and it makes me crazy. Do I ask for more information and risk the tears? Do I pretend it's not happening and risk you feeling ignored? Tell me what to do.

— J.A. Huss

Gabriel Levin's book is a journey through time and through entrenched animosities of the Middle East. What's astonishing and refreshing is his ability to combine the reporter's perspective with a deep knowledge of poetry, including pre-Islamic Arab poems. A brilliant poet is at work here-a poet in the rugged landscape of conflict and pain.

— Adam Zagajewski

She winced and covered her ears as Eric,onstage, wrestled with his microphone.
"Sorry about that, guys!" he yelled. "All right. I'm Eric, and this is my homeboy Matt on the drums. My first poem is called 'Untitled.'" He screwed up his face as if in pain, and wailed into the mike. "Come my faux juggernaut, my nefarious loins! Slather every protuberance with arid zeal!"
Simon slid down in his seat. "Please don't tell anyone I know him."
Clary giggled. "Who uses the word 'loins'?"
"Eric," Simon said grimly. "All his poems have loins in them."
'Turgid is my torment!" Eric wailed. "Agony swells within!"
"You bet it does," Clary said.

— Cassandra Clare

Leaving Verses Poems Quotes
To say goodbye
Isn't a pain
Unless you're never going ... !
(Tee hee)

— John Walter Bratton

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