Of trees I (Krishna) am the fig.

Of trees I (Krishna) am the fig.

Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen

Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen

If Galileo had said in verse that the world moved, the inquisition might have let him alone.

If Galileo had said in verse that the world moved, the inquisition might have let him alone.

In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column:
In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.

In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column:
In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.

Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, read more

Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.

The poet is in the end probably more afraid of the dogmatist who wants to extract the message from the read more

The poet is in the end probably more afraid of the dogmatist who wants to extract the message from the poem and throw the poem away than he is of the sentimentalist who says, "Oh, just let me enjoy the poem.".

A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove read more

A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it. A poet utterly clear is a trifle glaring.

Poetry is itself a thing of God;
He made his prophets poets;and the more
We feel of read more

Poetry is itself a thing of God;
He made his prophets poets;and the more
We feel of poesie do we become
Like God in love and power,--under-makers.

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).