Quotes About Poetry

That's how it is with relationships, it's a part of life, and all the great love songs and poems and films have been written by people who were standing where I was that morning as Simon shut the door. Doesn't make it any easier though.

Poetry's work is the clarification and magnification of being.

One way poetry connects is across time. . . . Some echo of a writer's physical experience comes into us when we read her poem.

In one recorded dialogue with a student, Bash? instructed, "The problem with most poems is that they are either subjective or objective." "Don't you mean too subjective or too objective?" his student asked. Bash? answered, simply, "No.

I know I shouldn't be writing haiku now, so close to my death. But poetry is all I've thought of for over fifty years. When I sleep, I dream about hurrying down a road under morning clouds or evening mist. When I awaken I'm captivated by the mountain stream's interesting sounds or the calls of wild birds. Buddha called such attachment wrong, and of this I am guilty. But I cannot forget the haiku that have filled my life.

All writers recognize this surge of striking; in its energies the objects of the world are made new, alchemized by their passage through the imaginal, musical, world-foraging and word-forging mind. This altered vision is the secret happiness of poems, of poets. It is as if the poem encounters the world and finds in it a hidden language, a Braille unreadable except when raised by the awakened imaginative mind.

It is, of course, we who house poems as much as their words, and we ourselves must be the locus of poetry's depth of newness. Still, the permeability seems to travel both ways: a changed self will find new meanings in a good poem, but a good poem also changes the shape of the self.

Age in itself gives substance — what has lasted becomes a thing worth keeping. An older poem's increasing strangeness of language is part of its beauty, in the same way that the cracks and darkening of an old painting become part of its luminosity in the viewer's mind.

over 19,000 haiku about Spam—"Spamku"—have to this date been posted online.

Do not follow the ancient masters, seek what they sought." However strong his opinions and theories, Bash?'s primary allegiance was to the living moment and its accurate, full-hearted presentation. Of the formal requirements of haiku, he said, "If you have three or four, even five or seven extra syllables but the poem still sounds good, don't worry about it. But if one syllable stops the tongue, look at it hard.

In poetry's words, life calls to life —Jane Hirshfield

Free verse follows 'the breath of a thought where it leads'.

Robinson Jeffers longed throughout his life ]for a poetry of 'pure undoubtable being'], but could not bear to relinquish his moral connection with the humanity he continually condemned for its self-centeredness.

No matter how difficult the subject, while writing, a poet is unchained from sadness, and free —Jane Hirshfield

Words are not the highest reality, nor' what is expressed in words the highest reality. Why? Because the highest reality is an experience which cannot be entered into by means of statements' regarding it. Poetry and visual symbols come much closer to reality. The mind must be in a state of wisdom to understand wisdom.

an Arabic word – algebra? It comes from the Arabic al-jabr and it means the reunion of broken parts. I like that, 'the reunion of broken parts': it's poetic, don't you think?

The poet's job is to put into words those feelings we all have that are so deep, so important, and yet so difficult to name, to tell the truth in such a beautiful way, that people cannot live without it.

Anglo-Saxon England had the richest tradition of written vernacular literature of any country in Europe, including a large body of original poetry and many translations of earlier Latin works.

Always learn poems by heart. They have to become the marrow in your bones. Like fluoride in the water, they'll make your soul impervious to the world's soft decay.

The day is early with birds beginning and the wren in a cloud piping like the child in the poem, drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe. And the place grows bean flower, pea-green lush of grass, swarm of insects dizzily hitting the high spots; dunny rosette creeping covering shawl ream in a knitted cosy of roses; ah the tipsy wee small hours of insects that jive upon the crippled grass blades and the face of the first flower alive.

we could think or feel as we wished toward the characters, or as the poet, discounting history, invited us to; we were the poet's guest, his world was his own kingdom, reached, as one of the poems told us, through the 'Ring of Words'...

And I told you that you're beautiful—in some really poetic way even Mr. Hoyer would think was sonnet worthy." "What did you say?" "How about that your eyes shine like unspoken promises?

I have always written poetry but I have never applied it to songwriting.

Když se jen dotkneš ruky mé a dla? tvá lehce padne do mé, struny, o kterých nevíme, ozvou se tiše, pov?domé.