#poets

Everything you invent is true: you can be sure of that. Poetry is a subject as precise as geometry. ↗

— Julian Barnes

#creativity #poetry #poets #reality #writers

Poetry, like jazz, is one of those dazzling diamonds of creative industry that help human beings make sense out of the comedies and tragedies that contextualize our lives. ↗

— Aberjhani

#cultural-arts #famous-poets #humanity #jazz #jazz-appreciation-month

Poetry looking in the mirror sees art, and art looking in a mirror sings poetry. ↗

— Aberjhani

#art-and-the-soul #creative-genius #creativity #famous-quotes-by-famous-poets #mirrors

Poets are damned… but see with the eyes of angels. ↗

— Allen Ginsberg

#beauty #eyes #hope #perspective #poetry

A change of style is a change of meaning. ↗

— Wallace Stevens

#change

Poets can't march in protest or do that sort of thing. I feel that's against the rules, and pointless. If mankind wants a great big final bang, that's what it'll get. One should never protest against anything unless it's going to have an effect. None of those marches do. One should either be silent or go straight to the top. ↗

— Robert Graves

#apocalypse #change #poets #protest #change

Poets may be delightful creatures in the meadow or the garret, but they are menaces on the assembly line. ↗

— Rollo May

#creativity #poets #courage

Un-winged and naked, sorrow surrenders its crown to a throne called grace. ↗

— Aberjhani

#angels #famous-quotes-from-classic-books #grace #haiku #haikus

When Great Trees Fall When great trees fall, rocks on distant hills shudder, lions hunker down in tall grasses, and even elephants lumber after safety. When great trees fall in forests, small things recoil into silence, their senses eroded beyond fear. When great souls die, the air around us becomes light, rare, sterile. We breathe, briefly. Our eyes, briefly, see with a hurtful clarity. Our memory, suddenly sharpened, examines, gnaws on kind words unsaid, promised walks never taken. Great souls die and our reality, bound to them, takes leave of us. Our souls, dependent upon their nurture, now shrink, wizened. Our minds, formed and informed by their radiance, fall away. We are not so much maddened as reduced to the unutterable ignorance of dark, cold caves. And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly. Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration. Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us. They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed. ↗

— Maya Angelou

#death #i-shall-not-be-moved #life #maya-angelou #peace

won't you celebrate with me what i have shaped into a kind of life? i had no model. born in babylon both nonwhite and woman what did i see to be except myself? i made it up here on this bridge between starshine and clay, my one hand holding tight my other hand; come celebrate with me that everyday something has tried to kill me and has failed. ↗

— Lucille Clifton

#inspiration #life #national-poetry-month #poem-in-your-pocket-day #poetry