#poetry

A poem conveys not a message so much as the provenance of a message, an advent of sense. ↗

— Thomas Harrison

#advent #conveys #message #much #poem

For me, poetry is a situation - a state of being, a way of facing life and facing history. ↗

— Tahar Ben Jelloun

#facing #history #life #me #poetry

Life goes on in the same manner, evil wins and peace is slaughtered. Change the channel, change the view, tired of the same reruns on the evening news. ↗

— Susie Clevenger

#modern-society #news #poetry #change

They flee from me that sometime did me seek With naked foot, stalking in my chamber. I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek, That now are wild and do not remember That sometime they put themself in danger To take bread at my hand; and now they range, Busily seeking with a continual change. ↗

— Thomas Wyatt

#poetry #change

Poetry is of so subtle a spirit, that in the pouring out of one language into another it will evaporate. ↗

— John Denham

#evaporate #into #language #out #poetry

To know anything of a poet but his poetry is, so far as the poetry is concerned, to know something that may be entertaining, even delightful, but is certainly inessential. ↗

— John Drinkwater

#certainly #concerned #delightful #entertaining #even

The strings in her mind grew flatter, calmer. The shapes in the hologrid had changed. She heard the man's words, and yet she didn't; the words were not what was really important. And wasn't that right? Words had never been important, only strings, and the strings had shapes like - but not like -the ones around the man. Only the man had disappeared, too, and that was alright, because she, Miri, Miranda Serena Sharifi, was disappearing, was sliding down a steep long chute and each meter she traveled she became smaller and smaller until she had disappeared and was invisible, a weightless transparent ghost that neither twitched nor stammered, in the corner of a room she had never seen before. ↗

— Nancy Kress

#change

I use rock and jazz and blues rhythms because I love that music. I hope my poetry has a relationship with good-time rock'n roll. ↗

— Adrian Mitchell

#blues #hope #i #i love #jazz

I've often entertained paranoid suspicions about my fridge and what it's been doing to my poetry when I'm not looking, but I never even considered that my fan was thinking about me. ↗

— George Murray

#been #considered #doing #entertained #even

When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet: And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply I may forget. ↗

— Christina Rossetti

#poetry #death