“Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars for you?”— Richard Siken, poeticfuck.blogspot.dk
“I admit I was afraid to love. Not just love, but to love her. For she was a stunning mystery. She carried things deep inside her that no one has yet to understand, and I, I was afraid to fail, like the others. She was the ocean and I was just a boy who loved the waves but was completely terrified to…”— Unknown, tumblr.com
“There's nothing more to the story. When we met he looked like forever & I swore I'd love him slow as summer. It's been August ever since.”— Amanda Torroni, amandatorroni.tumblr.com
“You have the scent of saltwater during the day from the humidity in the air and the fragrance of expensive perfumes and colognes that cling to my skin and my clothes, and I find your smell lingering everywhere I go.”— Liz Rae, thoughtcatalog.com
“How sweet I roamed from field to field, and tasted all the summer's pride.”— William Blake, poetryfoundation.org
“I decided to baptize our bed, With another man's scent. A rebirth, free from your aura. I'm going to roll around And make lust on our Egyptian linen. Then I will shred them to pieces.”— Mirtha Michelle Castro, amazon.com
“Your entire body shakes when you laugh, As if your sense of humour was built on a fault line And the coast of your heart falls into the ocean of yourself And I’m left looking for this Atlantis.”— Shane Koyczan, blog.ted.com
“Poetry writing is an immensely personal experience. Many people don't realize a poem is an extension of the poet. Such is the attachment that reading a poem may be interpreted as voyeuristic. Even if a poet practices to be published, for money, or does so in private - we do so for ourselves. We writ…”— Sade Andria Zabala, facebook.com
“A poem...begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.”— Robert Frost, en.wikiquote.org
“When anyone escapes, my heart leaps up. Even when it’s I who am escaped from, I am half on the side of the leaver.”— Sharon Olds, amazon.com
“There was a research article I read with the headline, ‘Love Is A Single Act Committed By Two Brains,’ because of the way oxytocin levels rose in a mother and a son when they hugged. I wish more poets became scientists.”— Iain Thomas, amazon.com
“Every night I win a war with myself only to be taken down by the sunlight.”— Nezrah Ahmad Masood, facebook.com
“In Austin, someone has scrawled on the bathroom wall of a cafe on Congress Street, ‘I don’t know if you or I exist, but somewhere there are poems about us.”— Linh Dinh, poetryfoundation.org
“A man of my acquaintance once wrote a poem called 'The Road Less Traveled', describing a journey he took through the woods along a path most travelers never used. The poet found that the road less traveled was peaceful but quite lonely, and he was probably a bit nervous as he went along, because if…”— Lemony Snicket, amazon.com
“His body is a mosque, my God, his strong shoulders, his soft chest, his handsome hands, I hear the call of prayer every time I lay my head close to his heart.”— Royla Asghar, poems-of-madness.tumblr.com
“Gently, we howl at the stars together. Gently, we swallow each other whole.”— Emily Palermo, sleepwalking.nu