Poems On Life Quotes

“This book is dedicated to those in life whom I have met and by virtue of those encounters, have helped to shape the content herein.”
― A.R. Merrydew, From The Pen Of An Aquarian: Love, hope and darker moments

“the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.”
― Charles Bukowski

“I am alone in my room, between two worlds”
― Sylvia Plath, Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“She traced an imaginary line
On the endlessly nocturnal sky.
Only to locate the north
Which seemed so near,
Yet so far.
For the compass she had
Was cracked and broken.”
― Ruqayya Shaheed Khan

“Life is moving much too fast.
I think I can’t catch up with it.
A little bird flew out of nowhere
and sat calmly on my shoulder.
No worries, I’m not afraid
of being left out now.
I’ll never chase life.
Instead, I’ll try to see, understand
and enjoy life as much as I can.
Little bird, you opened my eyes.”
― Bhuwan Thapaliya

“cursed by my predecessors,
blessed by this modern age”
― Ace Tiwari, April Morning

“Effete tells and tales they encase
never fitting in a utopian plaquette”
― Hornbill Harcel, Woebegone Wynds

“The bullets and the guns
pierce through me
My Armor’s made of specter,
Still, the heart runs a scary beat”
― Hornbill Harcel, Woebegone Wynds

“তোমার বুকে অন্যকিছু থাকে
থাকুক, তাতে আঁচ লাগে না যেন
আমি কেবল মুহূর্ত, বুলবুলি
চোখ ফেরালেই ভুলতে বসো যাকে।”
― সিফাত বিনতে ওয়াহিদ (Author of সকল পুণ্যের মাঝে আমি একটাই পাপ)

“And my poems will find
one of its kind,
It takes a heart to know me
and you are just too full of mind.”
― Ritu Negi, Ethereal

“Laughing with blood relatives
amidst memorable melodies
in the background, styrofoam
plate in hand, topped with
foods that restaurants can’t
duplicate, it hit me:
I don’t belong here.

Staring at an unbelievable
sunrise from a balcony villa
in Tanzania, it hit me:
I don’t belong here.

Recognized and awarded for
notable news journalism, a few
semesters away from achieving
a prestigious degree decorated
with promised opportunities,
it hit me: I don’t belong here.

Hoping quietly for the best, to
“win my husband over” with
traditional submission,
more frequent sex,
and minimized speech,
it hit me: I don’t belong here.

Walking down a dusty
Egyptian street filled with
the welcoming laughter of
carefree children, it hit me:
I don’t belong here.

Sitting in a church pew
notating another good
message, clapping to some
of my favorite songs, and
then exiting to talk with
familiar faces, it hit me:
I don’t belong here.

Communing with those who
know who the “real chosen”
are, beholding their unknown
names unmasked, and secret
knowledges revealed
to ponder incessantly,
it hit me: I don’t belong here.

Placed underneath the
wanting body of a rare man
who showed me
unprecedented love,
it hit me: I don’t belong here.

My soul.
My mind.
My body.
Each malnourished.

My community.
My life purpose.
Both misplaced.

All starving for home.

So, I moved. Not to what looks
and feels good for them, but to
what ”
― Zara Hairston

“To be 'psychopompous' is to live your life as if you know everything already. It's the arrogance and naivety that we all fall victim to as young adults.”
― Briar Esterline, Psychopompous: A collection of poems & essays

“It is said the sum of the numb means we have succumbed to acceptance. I call that self-rejecting.”
― Vennie Kocsis

“She is different...but she is smarter than their sisters...
She is the one rose of roses...
She is pretty and special flower...
It´s a rose of roses
She smiles...she take cares about herself...she has pretty voice...she loves herself...she lives forever...

It´s a rose of roses...”
― Angela L.E. Komorovska, POEMS: STORIES ABOUT GODDESSES

“Once we become our own ghosts,
we constantly ask how we died
and who ultimately killed us—

we never recall the moment
when everything turned against us,
how we drowned in the demands of life.

Like someone waking from a dream,
suddenly wary-eyed and cold,
we finally remember that we

haunted others and fled our own souls
by imitating their lives nearly perfectly,
yet death eventually caught up with us.

Somehow, we ask ourselves
where everyone else has gone and how
nothing ever escaped the mind we now possess.”
― Laura Chouette

“The story's not all,
What matters is who tells it—
Many voices, many ends.”
― Ritu Negi, Cherry Blossoms: A Haiku Poetry Book

“And when the chips are down
and you've had enough
remember still you have a voice
speak up!
shout if you must!
do not let life take the last bit of you”
― Liza Ortiz, The Awakening of God’s Last Dragon: Overcoming and empowering, self-discovery book of poetry with illustrations.

“In every leaf upon the tree, In every wave upon the sea, In every star that lights the night, In every dawn’s first gentle light.

A thread unseen, yet ever there, A bond that all of life must share, In every breath, in every heart, An endless whole of which we’re part.

From mountains tall to valleys low, From rivers fast to winds that blow, Each soul, each spirit, every being, In nature’s web,
a vast unseeing.

The whispers of the ancient breeze, The secrets of the deepest seas, The songs that every creature sings, All speak of ties, of boundless rings.

In life’s grand dance, a tapestry, Woven with threads of unity, In joy, in sorrow, loss, or gain, We find we’re one, in sun and rain.

So feel the beat of nature’s drum, And know that you and I are one, In this grand scheme, this endless quest, We find our peace, our common rest.”
― Alexis Karpouzos, AN OCEAN OF SOULS: Beyond the heaven

“I seek dalliance that blossoms naturally, a bond crafted by mutual invitation, where both hearts feel at home.”
― Nicholas Kyle Edwards, Interrelation and Other Works

“To attack and defend,
each soul treads the path of loss,
allies entwined with adversaries,
the delicate dance of afterglow and shroud.
In this fragile balance, we falter,
as we seek to delineate foes,
to knit chaos from the fabric of silence,
where hearts clash in unspoken truths.”
― Nicholas Kyle Edwards, Interrelation and Other Works

“Break through the resistance
Without any assistance
Bridge this distance
Change your existence
Through constant persistence.”
― Tanja Lilic, Sun Beyond the Mountain: Real Life Poetry

“Flapping my wings,
as the weight of time grows age on me,
Digging for basics in a pit of fire,
My armor is just a cage on me.”
― Ritu Negi, Collywobbles

“A bitter taste
settles on my tongue,
and I feel the sting
of an unspoken insult.

In this stark moment,
I question everything:
the words we shared,
the laughter that once felt real,
the trust I placed in your hands.”
― Nyx Thorn, VERSES OF THE BROKEN: Echoes From A Fractured Mind

“I am stubborn—always have been, always will be.

I’m so stubborn that when I lost both my jobs in a single day, I laughed—
because, for the first time, I felt in control.


I saw a blank canvas, a chance to paint the town green (money),
and I swore I’d never let another soul hold that kind of power over me again.

I’m so stubborn that while others feel disappointment, I feel destiny.


Where they see setbacks, I see stepping stones.


Where they hesitate, I run headfirst—because greatness doesn’t wait.

I’m crazily stubborn, turning every challenge into opportunity,
birthing businesses from struggle, wearing my hardships like medals.


Each failure has been a lesson, each scar a roadmap,
and now, I don’t just survive—I build.

I’m so stubborn that failure no longer frightens me,
it fuels me.


I’ve mastered its rhythm, learned its secrets,
and now, it barely dares to cross my path.

I am proudly, unapologetically stubborn.


Because this stubbornness has won me my freedom,
my financial independence, my power.


And now, I use it to lift those who are ready—
ready to be just as stubborn as I am.”
― Marion Bekoe

“Let us be grateful
for the bees and fireflies—
small wonders
that keep the world
blooming and glowing,
our tiny guardians
of life and light.”
― Bhuwan Thapaliya

“You are allowed to heal,
at your very own speed.
As many times as you must,
in every way you need.”
― B. Elae

“चटर-पटर बोलता हूँ, दिन भर इधर-उधर,
कहीं बोलता हूँ सही, तो कहीं पर बस गलत-गलत,
लेकिन जो चाहता हूँ वो एहसास,
करवा नहीं पाती ये बातें यहाँ,
बिन बोले जो बात है, वो बोलने में कहाँ...”
― shekhar

“You don’t give up when you can’t give up.”
I didn’t write that to sound deep.

I wrote it because it was the only thing keeping me alive.

My survival chant.

The only thing keeping me standing

when everything around me said “let go.”
I couldn’t give up.

I didn’t have the luxury to give up.

Not because I’m stronger than most—

but because I knew what was at stake.

If I gave up, the pain wins.

The patterns repeat.

The cycle continues.
And I refuse to pass that down.
So I told myself:
This ends with me.

The silence.

The suffering.

The struggle passed down like inheritance.
If I gave up,

then my future children—

and their children—

would be handed the very thing I was born into.
Chains I never asked for.

Wounds I never caused.

But still carried.
I chose to carry that weight,

not because I wanted to,

but because someone had to.
The word “give up” became a curse in my vocabulary.

An abomination.

A forbidden thought.

Because it’s easy to say you won’t give up.

It’s a whole different battle

to actually not give up—

to keep showing up

when no one claps,

no one helps,

no one sees.
Some are born into healing

because someone before them—

a parent, a grandparent,

maybe a great-grandparent—

chose to fight.

Chose to heal.

Chose to break the cycle.
And some of us?

We were born into the battle.
But even then—

we still get to choose.
Why not you?

Why not now?
What if no one before you ever stopped the pattern?

What if nobody handed you peace?
Then maybe—just maybe—

it’s meant to be you.
I did it.

Not because I had superhuman strength.

But because I refused to surrender.

Because I made giving up a sin.

Because I looked ahead

and saw a generation waiting for me to decide.
By pain.

By fire.

By blood.

By scars.

By God’s grace—

I broke the cycle.
And now,

I live to tell the story.”
― Marion Bekoe

“In the end — or maybe even at the start — we all share one truth: death.
It doesn’t matter how rich you are.
How kind. How broken. How brilliant.
Death is the one door we all walk through.

You can’t hide from it.
You can’t bargain with it.
And you can’t bring anything with you when you go —
except your legacy.

So what will yours be?
When your time here is over,
When the dust settles,
And the world keeps spinning without you —
What will they remember?

Not the things you owned.
Not the titles.
Not the followers.

But the way you made people feel.
The courage you showed.
The love you gave.
The cycle you chose to break.
The healing you sparked.

So ask yourself —
What’s the one thing you want to be remembered for after death?
And then live every day like that answer matters.”
― Marion Bekoe

“Silence is not the absence of words, but the presence of meaning.”
― Mr. One Ab, Trace: A Journey in Silence