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.

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).

It is in self-limitation that a master first shows himself.

It is in self-limitation that a master first shows himself.

The fatal facility of the octosyllabic verse.

The fatal facility of the octosyllabic verse.

If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself that you are not poet enough to call read more

If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches; for the Creator, there is no poverty.

For rhyme the rudder is of verses,
With which, like ships, they steer their courses.

For rhyme the rudder is of verses,
With which, like ships, they steer their courses.

Poetry is one of the destinies of speech... One would say that the poetic image, in its newness, opens a read more

Poetry is one of the destinies of speech... One would say that the poetic image, in its newness, opens a future to language.

When the brain gets as dry as an empty nut,
When the reason stands on its squarest toes,
read more

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!

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling.

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling.