Poems On Love 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

“Not anyone who says, “I’m going to be
careful and smart in matters of love,”
who says, “I’m going to choose slowly,”
but only those lovers who didn’t choose at all
but were, as it were, chosen
by something invisible and powerful and uncontrollable
and beautiful and possibly even
unsuitable —
only those know what I’m talking about
in this talking about love.”
― Mary Oliver

“Did you fall in love with me at the end of this poem?
The one I wrote in the middle of the night when I fell in love with you.”
― Shayla Raquel, All the Things I Should've Told You: Poems on Love, Grief & Resilience

“Sentence me to life in your heart and watch me prosper.”
― Mireille Mehr

“It’s okay if we ever walk away from this
Trying to find something else to be happy.
Maybe when we come back, we will know
It’s okay to hold on to what your heart wants”
― Mia Sanchez, Symphony of Secrets

“The ghazals are convincing, and patience is a powerful weapon…but the heart of a timid man will never win his lady.”
― Fábio Moon, Two Brothers

“Do you believe in soulmates?
Do you believe in the concept of love?
Do you know how powerful one’s love could be if chained too long?
Do you believe in romance, in tragedy? In Love At First Sight?
Do you understand how one’s very mind can shatter under such spells? Are you aware how many lives have been stolen in the beautiful name of the world’s deadliest weapon, Love?
Are you able to comprehend how important Love is in one’s life, despite being able to take so many away so easily?
Love is as a diamond sword–beautiful, but made to kill.
Love is as a square of chocolate–sweet, yet hypnotizing and obsessive.
Oh, if only I could count how many died at Love’s hand.
Oh, if only I could begin to measure how many weep over not meeting their One.
Oh, if only Love wasn’t as beautiful as it is cruel.”
― Queenie Blackthorn

“They say that before a person dies,
Their whole life flashes before their eyes.

On my deathbed, I closed my eyes for that last view,
All I saw was only you.”
― Shon Mehta

“who has time to dream about butterflies in a world of caged birds?”
― Ana Silvani, Half Love: Metade Amor - Bilingual Poems (English & Portuguese). An immigrant poetic journey and her pondering about life, love and loss

“Women are poems in themselves.”
― Avijeet Das, Why the Silhouette?

“nothing reminds me of you
you are all i think about.
you infest my mind
like a swarm of bees
buzzing too loudly,
i can’t think clearly.”
― Elizabeth Awori, These Things

“Love makes you happy
But it also makes you sad
Love can be beautiful
But it also makes your life miserable
Love can break your heart
But it also mends the broken heart
Love can bring a new life
But it can also kill or ruin someone’s life”
― Ma. Lowela Tondo Becaro

“If you were never to say, “I love you,”

then my darling, I would paint the Sun

with the Moon and the Moon with the Sun.

Oh! Then the Moon shall freeze the Sun

and the Sun shall smolder the Moon.

Then no certainties such as the day

and the night would exist.

Beloved, yes, time would die,

if you say, “I don’t love you.”
― Bhuwan Thapaliya

“He washes

the stains

of his memories

at the banks

of her lips,

every day.

Her lips

are like

a canvas

where he

reflects

on his life

and the world

around

with a

paintbrush

of time.”
― Bhuwan Thapaliya

“I played your favourite tunes on the old piano
I sang mindlessly the song you loved the most
I wished for you to walk in and sing with me
Then I realized your favourite song has changed”
― Mia Sanchez

“AN INCOMPLETE PORTRAIT OF OUR LOVE
written by: Zaki Ansari



An incomplete portrait of our love
Relic of our relationship
like a poor injured dove
An incomplete portrait of our love

framed with some shabby moments
Hanging on my heart’s wall.
Thirsty for some colors of love
Which are missing at all
I have painted, the shadow of your smile.
I have added Some color of your hair,
I drew some marks of your lips
I spread shine of your eyes
Tried to fill with some of our memories
And with some of our dreams
I Gave a touch of your laughter,
and made the shape of your dimple.
Decorated with the beautiful mole
mole the same as you have on pretty face
but many things are mismade
yet, it is dark, it is fade
Missing a complete part which has been made

That’s You, your love, your presence
And all those beautiful colors
which you took with you when you left
How do I complete without you?
even I have lost myself without you,
Yes I’m breathing, yes I’m living
But that’s not life which spent without you.
you are required, Your touch is needed
to make complete
An incomplete portrait of our love
Relic of our relationship, like a poor injured dove
thirsty for some colors of love
Which are missing at all
Maybe there is no chance to make it whole
Complete or incomplete, happiness or sorrow
tears or laughter, the wounds on the soul
Whatever, but it’s a masterpiece of my life,
that’s all

into the bitter ocean of life
only sweetest thing, I have known,
Even it’s incomplete but it’s my own
An incomplete portrait of our love
Relic of our relationship
like a poor injured dove”
― Mohammed Zaki Ansari, "Zaki's Gift Of Love"

“The Story of our love, is best read in the eyes of our children.

#Brkn”
― Stuart Brkn Johns, Whiskey Lament

“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.”
― Anthony Merrydew, From The Pen Of An Aquarian: Love, hope and darker moments

“Memories and Mysteries

The Secret of the Ages;
The stories of the past;
The Tales of the Forgotten;
The moments that won't last;

The Secrets of the Soul;
The stories that we tell;
The secrets that we hold;
The secret of the hearts.
-Aron Micko H.B”
― Aron Micko H.B, At the Back

“Wine should be pale like the lover’s face. Yellow, the color of suffering:
it should be mature and clear, bitter but sweetened with sugar.

-- Translated by Kayvan Tahmasebian and Rebecca Ruth Gould”
― Khaqani, Divan of Khaqani

“I once dreamed of finding answers in the sky’s endless vault,
Yet without your guidance, even the stars seem to halt.

- when the stars halt.”
― Astivan Mirza

“Love and time

It was as if time had gone on a vacation,
At least it was not there where I was now,
Because there I could not feel her sensation,
So it was a world without her beauty, thus a world without love,

Time appeared to transition from one moment to another,
But I could not feel its presence,
For a while I thought I was in a world, that was some other,
As my heart did not experience life’s romance,

In her absence time appeared to be on a vacation,
The world seemed to have come to a sudden halt,
Without her, world’s charms had lost all their traction,
And I wondered whether it was my or time’s fault,

Everything and everyone moved, and life happened just like any day,
But to me somehow time appeared to be somewhere else,
Because it felt it was not here today,
And maybe only her presence can convince me it is false,

Maybe time has drowned in the past,
Forgotten somewhere in her infinite memories,
And my mind still recreates only moments from the past,
And convinces the heart to keep beating for the sake of her old stories,

Or is it that the present is an illusion of shadows,
Shadows from the past, her and my past,
And the present only from this past borrows,
So I am in this illusion of timelessness cast,

But whatever it might be,
Whether time is here or somewhere else,
She, her memories; are intact within me,
And my every heartbeat still says, there cannot be anyone else,

So, there is no need to seek time that has vanished suddenly,
Because I have installed her memories everywhere,
And now time has left me in my peaceful corner knowingly,
So I believe, time is somewhere else, but not here, not here,

And my love Irma, let me escape with you into this corner,
Where time has no business,
And just be your lover,
And let that be my only business,

For time will then lose its pride, someday, in that somewhere, where it has fled,
And it will offer us it's rarest gift of eternity,
Because my love, a rose by its own thorn is never hurt or bled,
So instead of time, we shall live in the love’s sanity,

Where time serves no purpose,
Because everything exists for everything,
There life offers no fake pose,
It is then that love becomes a true virtue and not just a thing!”
― Javid Ahmad Tak

“Where?

Where have all those moments disappeared,
Where to has her smile escaped,
When was the last time when on her face a smile had appeared,
When was it that she in her flashing radiance was draped,

Nobody knows nothing,
Nobody seems to care about anything,
Until one day she was lost like that insignificant Something,
Until that fateful day when her beautiful smile was reduced to nothing,

Where was she lost, her smile and she with it,
Where did her tormentors mislead her to,
When she realised it, she was already drowning in it,
When her mind screamed frantically, “whereto!”

Her heart had forgotten to feel,
Her feelings were dealing with fears of escalating anxieties,
Everything appeared fake to her in the surroundings real,
She had sunk deep in the abyss of perplexities,

Where was the lover who loved her and kissed her so many times,
Where was the guardian who vowed to protect her,
When she faced exceptionable and unwelcoming times,
When every reason that made her smile was dying within her,

Maybe the lover was busy kissing her beauty,
Maybe it was the only wish he wanted to fulfill,
And it seems he accomplished it with a sense of unwavering duty,
And today her absence with false sympathy he tries to fill,

Where was the sympathy when she needed it the most,
Where was the lover who feels, when she was alive,
When he was supposed to be with her, he was somewhere else, thus her smile was lost,
When he began kissing the smileless face, he had already killed her when she was alive,

So do not tell me you loved her with your heart,
So, she suffered more when you did not realise she was suffering,
Then she decided to leave and finally depart,
Then she left you long after you had learned to kiss her in ways more voluptuous than loving!

Where is she now, remains to be a bafflement for the lover in you,
Where are those smiles that her mirror sometimes reflects,
When she escaped from the prison created by you,
When you completely avoided acknowledging her emotional facts,

She left you, as for the rest of us, she is everywhere,
She is here, she is everywhere we wish to see her,
And for you when she was physically with you, you never learned to seek her spirit anywhere,
And since then you began losing a part of her, until one day, when she was right in front of you, you could not recognise her!”
― Javid Ahmad Tak, They Loved in 2075!

“I sit by the embers of our dead love, still burning for you.”
― Elizabeth Awori, These Things

“Divided hearts is what I am now
Forever alone in the wilderness
Living and dying
In a gloom of mist and happiness”
― Hornbill Harcel, Woebegone Wynds

“ভালোবেসে সয়েছি যত এ জগতের ধিক্
ঈশ্বর নিজেই প্রেমিক!”
― সিফাত বিনতে ওয়াহিদ

“যেন তোমাকে হারাতে না হয়,
প্রয়োজনে আমি হতে পারি হিটলার অথবা বেনিতো মুসোলিনি!
শুরু করতে পারি আরো একবার
পৃথিবী জুড়ে নাৎসিবাদ।”
― সিফাত বিনতে ওয়াহিদ

“জানি, বহিরাগতের হৃদয়ে রাখে না যে হাত
সেও চিরনমস্য থাকে!
তারে পুছি- প্রভু; ধরেছি কান, নাকে খতও দিলাম
আরেকটু কাছাকাছি থাকি?”
― সিফাত বিনতে ওয়াহিদ

“sonnet in my soul
that spoke to you through the mist-covered fields
that whispered to you from inside the swirling waves
and the morning dew kissed your house
once there was a perfect ballad
filled with love, rain and rainbows
even the dark clouds loved you
once there was a perfect rhyme
your hair decorated with white jasmine flowers
your long white soft summer dress
loose and free on your beautiful body
once there was a love poem
once there were you
once there was a love poem
once there was me
once there were us
a beautiful love song
a beautiful love poem”
― Kenan Hudaverdi

“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