Quotes from Pat Mora

When I'm writing poetry, 99.9% of my writing begins in English. I spent most of my life in English, although I am bilingual.

I did realize, as do you, how blessed I was to know bookjoy, the private pleasure of savoring text.

and I smile and know why people write music and paint and dance, lifted as if they can fly, because this ache crashing inside needs to be free. sometimes, love becomes a melody others hum for years.

I became a good writer when I saw the age of forty coming at me

Secrets I am all secrets now. I know when you walk into a room. I don't need to see or hear you behind me, but I know you're there and wish you'd touch my shoulder when you walk by. How can you do that, without a sound, send electricity, a current through a room full of people? When did this crazy secret life start? People see me but don't see I've changed. The me people see isn't the tangled me inside, trying not to think about you, your laugh splashing like a waterfall on a hot summer day.

What writer Audre Lorde says to black men and women is true for all of us: If we do not define ourselves, we will be defined by others for their use and to our detriment. Our country and perhaps all human history is a pattern of oppression, repression, suppression, subjugation. Racism is part of our heritage, reminding us that not all aspects of a culture should be preserved.

You're Beautiful Like the green romance of a bud and lily's pink, gentle sway. You: more beautiful than yesterday. Wildflower's blue surprise. Daisy's white, sunny play. You're more beautiful than yesterday. Orchid's purple mystery Mum's bronze ole` You: more beautiful than yesterday. Rose's orange perfume, even tulip's yellow secrets say: You're more beautiful that yesterday. Poppy's red, teasing lips, but YOUR beauty will never fade. You: more lovely than yesterday, You: my dazzling bouquet.

Lonely Day I saw your dress sway with the breeze at the end of a lonely day. I saw your dress sway, drying on a hanger, play, dance with summer ease. Softly, I saw your dress sway and wished I were the breeze.

All day I listened and looked down, hoping no one would ask me a question. I hid so deep inside, I'd lose myself for days, forget the sound of my own voice. At home, I was silent more and more, my mouth too sad to speak.