July 2012
96 posts
7 tags
Summer night –
even the stars
are whispering to each other.
– Kobayashi Issa, translated by Robert Hass
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Night. Heavenly delicious sweet night of the desert that calls all of us out to...
– Leslie Marmon Silko, The Turquoise Ledge (thank you, awritersruminations)
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How sweet the past is, no matter how wrong, or how sad.
How sweet is...
– Charles Wright, from “The Southern Cross”
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Dear lost sharer
of silences,
I would send a letter
the way the tree sends...
– Linda Pastan, from “Eyes Only” (thank you, proustitute)
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No one reads the poetry of Yeats for its lucid logic; he despised rationalism....
– Jamie James, “W. B. Yeats, Magus”
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And a softness came from the starlight and filled me
full to the bone.
– W. B. Yeats, from “The Wanderings of Oisin”
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…a Princess Edene,
A daughter of a King of Ireland, heard
A voice...
– W. B. Yeats, from “The Land of Heart’s Desire”
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The island dreams under the dawn
And great boughs drop tranquillity;
The...
– W. B. Yeats, from “The Indian to his Love”
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And as we stray further from love
we multiply the words,
words and sentences...
– Yehuda Amichai, from “Quick and Bitter”, translated by Assia Gutmann (with thanks to awritersruminations)
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But all remembered beauty is no more
Than a vague prelude to the thought of you...
– Sara Teasdale, from “Love Songs”
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There is a quiet at the heart of love,
And I have pierced the pain and come to...
– Sara Teasdale, from “Sappho”
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Let my heart have its say and my mind stand idly by,
For my mind is proud and...
– Sara Teasdale, from “What Do I Care”
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but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight…
– Edna St. Vincent Millay, from “Sonnet XLIII”
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Sitting over words
very late I have heard a kind of whispered sighing
not far...
– W. S. Merwin, “Utterance”
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What a great poem teaches you, and it’s not intellectual at all, is the...
– W. S. Merwin, Los Angeles Times
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What have I done, dear God, to deserve this perpetual feeling that I’m...
– Theodore Roethke, On Poetry and Craft
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And sometimes the most important thing in a whole day is the rest we take...
– Etty Hillesum, Etty Hillesum: An Interrupted Life
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In the great river of language that circles the universe,
Everything comes...
– Charles Wright, from A Journal of the Year of the Ox
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Looming and phosphorescent against the dark,
Words, always words.
– Charles Wright, from “Cryopexy”
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Some lights are from stars, some from the sun
And moon, and other lights are...
– Charles Wright, from “A Short History of the Shadow”
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The other world is here, just under our fingertips.
– Charles Wright, from “December Journal” in The World of the Ten Thousand Things
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Poetry is the kind of thing you have to see from the corner of your eye. You can...
– William Stafford, Writing the Australian Crawl: Views on the Writer’s Vocation
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Poetry springs from something deeper; it’s beyond intelligence. It may not...
– Jorge Luis Borges, The Paris Review (via nthWord Magazine)
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The world stands out on either side
No wider than the heart is wide;
Above the...
– Edna St. Vincent Millay, from “Renascence”
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Not Truth, but Faith, it is
That keeps the world alive.
– Edna St. Vincent Millay, from “Interim”
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I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:
How are you?
I have a...
– Hafiz, “Someone Should Start Laughing”, translated by Daniel Ladinsky
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Let me peer out at the world
through your lens. (Maybe I’ll shudder,
or...
– Nicole Guenther, from “Overlapping” in Time You Let Me In: 25 Poets Under 25
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Poetry is my cheap means of transportation. By the end of the poem the reader...
– Billy Collins, The New York Times, 30 November 1997
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If it was really Shelley who stood and listened to the skylark, it was not...
– Mary Oliver, Blue Pastures
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Ah, could I lay me down in this long grass
And close my eyes, and let the quiet...
– Edna St. Vincent Millay, from “Journey”
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What should I be but just what I am?
– Edna St. Vincent Millay, from “The Singing-Woman from the Wood’s Edge”
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And the world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles, no matter how long,...
– Wendell Berry, The Unforeseen Wilderness
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Many books are read but some books are lived, so that words and ideas lose their...
– Leon Wieseltier, The New Republic
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Every year, during the week between Christmas and New Year’s, my girlfriend goes...
– Jeanette Winterson, American Libraries Magazine