there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I'm not going

— Charles Bukowski · Bluebird

In the long journey out of the self, There are many detours, washed-out interrupted raw places Where the shale slides dangerously And the back wheels hang almost over the edge

— Theodore Roethke · Journey Into The Interior

Now I am out of element And far from anything my own, My sources drained of all content, The pieces of my spirit strewn.

— Theodore Roethke · Against Disaster

You know i've either had a family a job something has always been in the way but now i've sold my house

— Charles Bukowski · Creativity

We cannot fathom his mysterious head, Through the veiled eyes no flickering ray is sent: But from his torso gleaming light is shed As from a candelabrum; inward bent

— Rainer Maria Rilke · Archaic Torso of Apollo

All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood; I turned and looked another way, And saw three islands in a bay.

— Edna St. Vincent Millay · Renascence

Sometimes the scales themselves weigh far too much, the heaviness of forever balancing blue sky with red blood. We were all born on days when too many people died in terrible ways, but you still have to call it a birthday.

— Andrea Gibson · Birthday

Who is Jeremy Ward July 22nd 1985 dear Hans vanbrook thank you for your letter

— Charles Bukowski · Letter to Hans van den Broek [Re. Censorship]

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

— Maya Angelou · Still I Rise

equally the beech, the oaks and the pines, they give off such hints of gladness. I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

— Mary Oliver · When I Am Among The Trees

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too;

— Rudyard Kipling · If

Long live the weeds that overwhelm My narrow vegetable realm\! – The bitter rock, the barren soil That force the son of man to toil;

— Theodore Roethke · Long Live The Weeds

I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain—and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane.

— Robert Frost · Acquainted with the Night

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body

— Mary Oliver · Wild Geese

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow. You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread of all sorrows and you see the size of the cloth.

— Naomi Shihab Nye · Kindness

The wayfarer, Perceiving the pathway to truth, Was struck with astonishment. It was thickly grown with weeds.

— Stephen Crane · The Wayfarer

There is enough treachery hatred violence absurdity in the average human being to supply any given army on any given day and the best of murder of

— Charles Bukowski · The Genius of the Crowd

(translated by Annemarie S. Kidder) I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough to truly consecrate the hour.

— Rainer Maria Rilke · I Am Much Too Alone

Who is Jeremy Lord? There are degrees of madness. And the matter you are, the more obvious it will be to other

— Charles Bukowski · My Madness

If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. If you’re going to try, go all the way. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives, jobs and maybe even your mind.

— Charles Bukowski · Go All The Way

74 poems

Poet Poem
Pablo Neruda A Callarse (Keeping Quiet)
Andrea Gibson A Letter To The Playground Bully, From Andrea, Age 8 ½
Charles Bukowski A Smile to Remember
Robert Frost Acquainted with the Night
Theodore Roethke Against Disaster
Rainer Maria Rilke Archaic Torso of Apollo
Andrea Gibson Ashes
Rainer Maria Rilke Autumn Day
Andrea Gibson Birthday
Edna St. Vincent Millay Bluebeard
Charles Bukowski Bluebird
Carl Sandburg Chicago
Charles Bukowski Creativity
Pablo Neruda Deber Del Poeta (Poet's Obligation)
Kahlil Gibran Defeat
Edna St. Vincent Millay Dirge Without Music
Kahlil Gibran Do Not Love Half Lovers
Theodore Roethke Epidermal Macabre
Walt Whitman Epitaph for a Friend
Robert Frost Fire and Ice
Charles Bukowski Go All The Way
Rainer Maria Rilke I Am Much Too Alone
Edna St. Vincent Millay I shall forget you presently
Leonard Cohen I stopped looking for you
Rudyard Kipling If
Theodore Roethke In a Dark Time
Billy Collins Introduction To Poetry
W.E. Henley Invictus
Theodore Roethke Journey Into The Interior
Naomi Shihab Nye Kindness
Federico Garcia Lorca La Guitarra (The Guitar)
Mary Oliver Lead
Charles Bukowski Letter to Hans van den Broek [Re. Censorship]
Charles Bukowski Letter to John Martin
Theodore Roethke Long Live The Weeds
Derek Walcott Love After Love
Rainer Maria Rilke Love Song
John Roedel My Love
Charles Bukowski My Madness
Billy Collins Nightclub
Charles Bukowski Nirvana
Edna St. Vincent Millay Oh, oh, you will be sorry
Charles Bukowski People Aren't Good (The Crunch)
Pablo Neruda Pido Silencio (I Ask For Silence)
Pablo Neruda Poesia (Poetry)
Charles Bukowski Rain
Edna St. Vincent Millay Renascence
Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer Rima XI (Rhyme XI)
William Butler Yeats Sailing To Byzantium
Walt Whitman Song Of The Open Road
William Shakespeare Sonnet 12: When I Do Count
Maya Angelou Still I Rise
Robert Frost Stopping by Woods on a Snowy…
Martha Postlethwaite The Clearing
Charles Bukowski The Genius of the Crowd
T.S. Eliot The Hollow Men
Mary Oliver The Journey
William Butler Yeats The Lake Isle of Innisfree
Rainer Maria Rilke The Man Watching
Charles Bukowski The Most Beautiful Woman in Town
Andrea Gibson The Nutritionist
Rainer Maria Rilke The Panther
Charles Bukowski The Strange
Theodore Roethke The Waking
Stephen Crane The Wayfarer
Antonio Machado The Wind, One Brilliant Day
Edna St. Vincent Millay Thursday
Edna St. Vincent Millay What Lips My Lips Have Kissed
Mary Oliver When I Am Among The Trees
Alexandru Vlahuță Where Are Our Dreamers
Mary Oliver Wild Geese
Billy Collins Workshop
e.e. cummings [since feeling is first]
e.e. cummings [you shall above all things be glad]