Even in a state of geometrical grace we cannot see time as it is, only as it passes. So the river shows us while softly disfiguring our waterlogged bodies on the way to vast projects of war. — Rosmarie Waldrop, from “Water,” Driven to Abstraction. (New Directions Oct. 26 2010)
I want to write a poem as simple as a glass of water or as a piece of bread abandoned on the table by a child A poem transparent like a window light like a winged ingot of lead and yet heavy like butterflies among city lorries A poem wrought… Continue reading Stefan Baciu
I am a jumble of passions, misgivings, and wants. It seems that I am always in a state of wishing and rarely in a state of contentment. ― Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing. (Delacorte Books for Young Readers December 26, 2007)
How many poems sleep in dictionaries buried like needles in hay How many poets not yet born rolled in tight webs of anger How many tender confessions there How many insults How many falsehoods And what unexplored uninhabited deserts of silences — Anna Kamieńska, “Dictionaries,” Astonishments. (Paraclete Press (MA); First Edition edition July 1, 2007)
Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing. ― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath. (Anchor; Unabridged edition October 17, 2000)
How to be a Poet (to remind myself) Make a place to sit down. Sit down. Be quiet. You must depend upon affection, reading, knowledge, skill—more of each than you have—inspiration work, growing older, patience, for patience joins time to eternity… Breathe with unconditional breath the unconditioned air. Shun electric wire. Communicate slowly. Live a… Continue reading Wendell Berry
I live in my dreams—that’s what you sense. Other people live in dreams, but not in their own. That’s the difference. — Herman Hesse, Demian. (Suhrkamp Verlag May 3, 1996) Originally published 1919.