Quotes About Poems

All those years and their moments— Crackling bacon, slamming car doors, Poems tried out on friends, Will be one more archive, One more shaky text.

The Arden Shakespeare is intended both as a student text and as a revision of traditional scholarship. If it is to be used in the first way, then the often narrow thread of text above a sediment of footnotes, something Dr Leavis so deplored, can prove debilitating. Poems, especially the classics of our language, should be read headlong. Dubieties may be looked up later.

Later I will see there is a poem on the back of each wing. Poems that are not about us, but are about trees and teacups, fields and glances. Not about us, but about the things we hold dear. The moments we both collect by living our lives, together and alone. Rearranged alphabets, dream-remnant wonder, the seat of our love.

It is not hope, but despair, which gives the measure of our ambitions. The finest poems of hope are sung in secret, but grief appears without a veil.

What do poems have to do with an ethics of conviviality? Poems are beginners. The urgent social abjection of the poem might act as shelter to a gestured vernacular. Covertly the poem transforms that vernacular to a prosodic gift whose agency flourishes in the bodily time of an institutional and economic evasion. Let us suppose here that poems are those commodious anywheres that might evade determination by continuously inviting their own dissolution in semantic distribution. In

A woman knows very well that, though a wit sends her his poems, praises her judgment, solicits her criticism, and drinks her tea, this by no means signifies that he respects her opinions, admires her understanding, or will refuse, though the rapier is denied him, to run through the body with his pen.

By mourning tongues The death of the poet was kept from his poems.

Nocturne Where are you now, my poems, my sleepwalkers? No mumbles tonight? Where are you, thirst, fever, humming tedium? The sodium streetlights burr outside my window, steadfast, unreachable, little astonishments lighting the way uphill. Where are you now, when I need you most? It's late. I'm old. Come soon, you feral cats among the dahlias.

so I start reciting a couple of Shel Silverstein poems I've memorized, and I verse myself all the way across the room to a big round opening you could drive a Mack truck through if you knew how to drive, which I don't.

It is strange," Mr. Willoughby said, and the air of reflection in his voice was echoed exactly by Jamie's, "but it was my joy of women that Second Wife saw and loved in my words. Yet by desiring to possess me—and my poems—she would have forever destroyed what she admired." Mr.

Now I am going to reveal to you something which is very pure, a totally white thought. It is always in my heart; it blooms at each of my steps... The Dance is love, it is only love, it alone, and that is enough... I, then, it is amorously that I dance: to poems, to music but now I would like to no longer dance to anything but the rhythm of my soul.

Their ghosts are gagged, their books are library flotsam, Some of their names - not all - we learnt in school But, life being short, we rarely read their poems, Mere source-books now to point or except a rule, While those opinions which rank them high are based On a wish to be different or on lack of taste.

The world has suffered no greater literary loss than the loss of Sappho's poems.

By mourning tongues The death of the poet was kept from his poems.

If our dreams could edit the news (and sometimes our nightmares) these poems are how they'd wake us up to the urgency of our times.

When I tell my family I want to be a writer, they smile and say, We see you in the backyard with your writing. They say, We hear you making up all those stories. And, We used to write poems. And, It's a good hobby, we see how quiet it keeps you. They say, But maybe you should be a teacher, a lawyer, do hair . . . I'll think about it, I say. And maybe all of us know this is just another one of my stories.

That's what up , Amari said. Read those poems in all kinds of American, son.

There are modern writers on law that may be as valuable as Moses; there are poems of Browning and Tennyson and our own Whittier that are far more pervaded with the Christlike spirit than some on the Hebrew Psalmody. But there is no life like the life of Christ.

The volume was a huge success, to the surprise of Houghton Mifflin who had rejected the poems, Niles who had grudgingly published them and the still rather offhand Austin. Five hundred copies of Poems were sold on the day of publication; the volume was reprinted eleven times in the first year; and the total sale, astonishing for a poet publishing a first collection, was almost eleven thousand copies.

Poetry...is full of visions pulled more from our hearts than from our minds. Our greatest poems are written in the dust of our deepest memories.

I love women whose hidden desires make horses put an end to their lives at the threshold — Mahmoud Darwish, Unfortunately, It Was Paradise: Selected Poems (University of California Press; 0 edition, January 6, 2003)

Books become my refuge. Reading keeps me hopeful. I fall in love with small poems, the shorter the better- haiku from Japan, and tiny rhymes by Emily Dickinson.

Of the individual poems, some are more lyric and some are more descriptive or narrative. Each poem is fixed in a moment. All those moments written or read together take on the movement and architecture of a narrative.

La realidad es un manojo de poemas sobre los cuales nadie reclama derechos de autor. Debajo de cada piedra, de cada baldosa, se esconde un poema.