Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.
I can remember only a few of the strange and curious words now dead but living and spoken by the English people a thousand years ago.
If I added to their pride of America, I am happy.
What of the Wright boys in Dayton? Just around the corner they had a shop and did a bicycle business-and they wanted to fly for the sake of flying. They were Man the Seeker, Man on a Quest. Money was their last thought, their final absent-minded idea. They threw out a lot of old mistaken measurements and figured new ones that stood up when they took off and held the air and steered a course. They proved that "the faster you go the less power you need."
Where was I going? I puzzled and wondered about it til I actually enjoyed the puzzlement and wondering.
There was always the consolation that if I didn't like what I wrote I could throw it away or burn it.
The people will live on.The learning and blundering people will live on.
I fell in love, not deep, but I fell several times and then fell out.
Poetry is a dance music measuring buck-and-wing follies along with the gravest and stateliest dead-marches.
I take you and pile high the memories. Death will break her claws on some I keep.
Poetry is the journal of a sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air.
I been a wanderin' Early and late, New York City To the Golden Gate An' it looks like I'm never gonna cease my Wanderin'.
Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo. Shovel them under and let me work. I am the grass. I cover all.
The simple dignity of a child drinking a bowl of milk embodies the fascination of an ancient rite.
I stayed away from mathematics not so much because I knew it would be hard work as because of the amount of time I knew it would take, hours spent in a field where I was not a natural.
I am! I have come through! I belong!
The dead hold in their hands only what they have given away.
I had taken a course in Ethics. I read a thick textbook, heard the class discussions and came out of it saying I hadn't learned a thing I didn't know before about morals and what is right or wrong in human conduct.
Poetry is the journal of the sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air. Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable. Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.
The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over the harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.
Newspapers tell beforehand what is going to happen - maybe.
I am the people the mob the crowd the mass. Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me?
Arithmetic is where the answer is right and everything is nice and you can look out of the window and see the blue sky - or the answer is wrong and you have to start over and try again and see how it comes out this time.
We live in the time of the colossal upright oblong.
There have been as many varieties of socialists as there are wild birds that fly in the woods and sometimes go up and on through the clouds.
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