The fellow mixes blood with his colors.

The fellow mixes blood with his colors.

For florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.

For florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme,
Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.

Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

In poetry, you must love the words, the ideas and the images and rhythms with all your capacity to love read more

In poetry, you must love the words, the ideas and the images and rhythms with all your capacity to love anything at all.

Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.

Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.

If it is the love of that which your work represents--if, being a
landscape painter, it is love of read more

If it is the love of that which your work represents--if, being a
landscape painter, it is love of hills and trees that moves
you--if, being a figure painter, it is love of human beauty, and
human soul that moves you--if, being a flower or animal painter,
it is love, and wonder, and delight in petal and in limb that
move you, then the Spirit is upon you, and the earth is yours,
and the fullness thereof.

Poetry is plucking at the heartstrings, and making music with them.

Poetry is plucking at the heartstrings, and making music with them.

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.

You will not find poetry anywhere unless you bring some of it with you.

You will not find poetry anywhere unless you bring some of it with you.