When the brain gets as dry as an empty nut,
When the reason stands on its squarest toes,
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When the brain gets as dry as an empty nut,
When the reason stands on its squarest toes,
When the mind (like a beard) has a "formal cut,"--
There is a place and enough for the pains of prose;
But whenever the May-blood stires and glows,
And the young year draws to the "golden prime,"
And Sir Romeo sticks in his ear a rose,--
Then hey! for the ripple of laughing rhyme!

Poetry is the art of substantiating shadows, and of lending existence to nothing.

Poetry is the art of substantiating shadows, and of lending existence to nothing.

A good poem is a contribution to reality. The world is never the same once a good poem has been read more

A good poem is a contribution to reality. The world is never the same once a good poem has been added to it. A good poem helps to change the shape of the universe, helps to extend everyone's knowledge of himself and the world around him.

morning: that first sapphire dome of glow.

morning: that first sapphire dome of glow.

Some cursed fraud
Of enemy hath beguiled thee, yet unknown,
And me with thee hath ruined.

Some cursed fraud
Of enemy hath beguiled thee, yet unknown,
And me with thee hath ruined.

CONSIDERING THE VOID
When I behold the charm
of evening skies, their lulling endurance;
the patterns of stars with read more

CONSIDERING THE VOID
When I behold the charm
of evening skies, their lulling endurance;
the patterns of stars with names
of bears and dogs, a swan, a virgin;
other planets that the Voyager showed
were like and so unlike our own,
with all their diverse moons,
bright discs, weird rings, and cratered faces;
comets with their streaming tails
bent by pressure from our sun;
the skyscape of our Milky Way
holding in its shimmering disc
an infinity of suns
(or say a thousand billion);
knowing there are holes of darkness
gulping mass and even light,
knowing that this galaxy of ours
is one of multitudes
in what we call the heavens,
it troubles me. It troubles me.
-President Jimmy Carter- (he has written a volume of poetry as well as a novel, The Hornet's Nest,
about the Revolutionary War).

Fraud is the homage that force pays to reason.

Fraud is the homage that force pays to reason.

The poet, as everyone knows, must strike his individual note sometime between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five. He may read more

The poet, as everyone knows, must strike his individual note sometime between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five. He may hold it a long time, or a short time, but it is then that he must strike it or never. School and college have been conducted with the almost express purpose of keeping him busy with something else till the danger of his ever creating anything is past.

When you write in prose you say what you mean. When you write in rhyme you say what you must.

When you write in prose you say what you mean. When you write in rhyme you say what you must.