Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.
Carl Sandburg (1878 - 1967)
Contributed by: Siona
The single clenched fist lifted and ready, Or the open asking hand held out and waiting. Choose: For we meet by one or the other.
Contributed by: Michelle
I'm an idealist. I don't know where I'm going but I'm on my way.
Contributed by: JoyFull
It was here we turned the coffee cups upside down.And your eyes and the moon swept the valley.
Source: From â€œValley Songâ€ by Carl Sandburg, 1918
Contributed by: Treecup
Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.
Contributed by: Nachtmusik
Here is the difference between Dante, Milton, and me. They wrote about hell and never saw the place. I wrote about Chicago after looking the town over for years and years.
Contributed by: Praveer
I'm an idealist. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way.
Contributed by: tbuddha
If [America] forgets where she came from, if the people lose sight of what brought them along, if she listens to the deniers and mockers, then will begin the rot and dissolution.
Contributed by: Zaady
Nothing happens unless first a dream.
I won't take my religion from any man who never works except with his mouth.
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