Each dawn love is a captain Without a ship. The only instrumentation The sad and imaginary Sound of his voice, love with its own Words for music, the low light Of a fairly good star. — Frank Stanford, from “With the Approach of the Oak the Axeman Quakes,” What About This: Collected Poems of Frank… Continue reading Frank Stanford
Having the equilibrium of a poet, I kept falling in love. — Frank Stanford, from “With the Approach of the Oak the Axeman Quakes,” What About This: Collected Poems of Frank Stanford (Copper Canyon Press, 2015)
God I was crazy for not Going to her door, Tapping on her window, Following her to the river Where her dory grew wet like the moon, A bird sick of its tree, I despair, Leaves without wind, I lay Damp and quiet on the earth. — Frank Stanford, from “Between Love and Death,” What… Continue reading Frank Stanford
Put briefly, we remember too much, and too little of it lasts. — Daniel Cross Turner, from “Lost Highways and Ethereal Landscapes: Cartographic Memory in the Poetry of Charles Wright,” Southern Crossings: Poetry, Memory, and the Transcultural South (University of Tennessee Press, 2012)
I feel like moonlight Abiding a dark lake You’re soft as deep water Everywhere like the stars When I lean down Kiss you I bloody my lips With the good dirt of the earth — Frank Stanford, from “The Earth in You,” What About This: Collected Poems of Frank Stanford (Copper Canyon Press, 2015)
When so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone. ― Tennessee Williams, Camino Real. (New Directions; 1 edition, January 17, 1970) Originally published 1948) Originally published 1948.