Why do I write? Out of fear. Out of fear that the memory of the people I write about might go lost. Out of fear that the memory of myself might get lost. Or even just to be shielded by a story, to slip inside a story and stop being recognizable, controllable, subject to blackmail.
Fabrizio De AndréStichwörter: poets writer writers-on-writing why-we-write songwriters
To have touched the feet of Christ is no excuse for mistakes in punctuation.
If a man writes well only when he's drunk, then I'll tell him: Get drunk. And if he says that it's bad for his liver, I'll answer: What's your liver? A dead thing that lives while you live, whereas the poems you write live without while.
Stichwörter: poetry writing poets drinking motivation drunkenness punctuation good-writing
I say, 'Get me some poets as managers.' Poets are our original systems thinkers. They contemplate the world in which we live and feel obligated to interpret, and give expression to it in a way that makes the reader understand how that world runs. Poets, those unheralded systems thinkers, are our true digital thinkers. It is from their midst that I believe we will draw tomorrow's new business leaders."
--Sidney Harman, CEO Multimillionaire of a stereo components company
Stichwörter: poetry poets business management-and-leadership
The seasonal urge is strong in poets. Milton wrote chiefly in winter. Keats looked for spring to wake him up (as it did in the miraculous months of April and May, 1819). Burns chose autumn. Longfellow liked the month of September. Shelley flourished in the hot months. Some poets, like Wordsworth, have gone outdoors to work. Others, like Auden, keep to the curtained room. Schiller needed the smell of rotten apples about him to make a poem. Tennyson and Walter de la Mare had to smoke. Auden drinks lots of tea, Spender coffee; Hart Crane drank alcohol. Pope, Byron, and William Morris were creative late at night. And so it goes.
Helen BevingtonStichwörter: poetry writing writers night apple poets winter seasons tea april spring alcohol fall morris coffee autumn pope apples burns keats insomnia longfellow tennyson shelley hart-crane may milton september season auden nocturnal wordsworth byron de-la-mare schiller spender
That is what all poets do: they talk to themselves out loud; and the world overhears them
George Bernard ShawStichwörter: poetry writing writers poets
[poems are] crystals deposited after the effervescent contact of the spirit with reality.
(cristaux deposes apres l'effervescent contact de l'esprit avec la realite)
Stichwörter: poetry poets poet poems
To hear never-heard sounds,
To see never-seen colors and shapes,
To try to understand the imperceptible
Power pervading the world;
To fly and find pure ethereal substances
That are not of matter
But of that invisible soul pervading reality.
To hear another soul and to whisper to another soul;
To be a lantern in the darkness
Or an umbrella in a stormy day;
To feel much more than know.
To be the eyes of an eagle, slope of a mountain;
To be a wave understanding the influence of the moon;
To be a tree and read the memory of the leaves;
To be an insignificant pedestrian on the streets
Of crazy cities watching, watching, and watching.
To be a smile on the face of a woman
And shine in her memory
As a moment saved without planning.
Stichwörter: reality poetry power world soul planning read moon darkness smile poets understanding sounds memory colors flying shine feelings eyes mountain invisible tree cities moment face feel know whisper ethereal streets lantern watching matter leaves fly pedestrian substances wave umbrella eagle dejan-stojanovic imperceptible face-of-a-woman shapes stormy-day task-of-a-poet
That's a poet.'
'I thought you said it was a bo-at.'
'Stupid pet! Don't you know what a poet it?'
'Why, a thing to sail on the water in.'
'Well, perhaps you're not so far wrong. Some poets do carry people over the sea....'
...
'A poet is a man who is glad of something, and tries to make other people glad of it too.
What stirs lyrical poets to their finest flights is neither the delight of the senses nor the fruitful contentment of the settled couple; not the satisfaction of love, but its passion. And passion means suffering.
Denis de RougemontStichwörter: love passion suffering poets
At the edge of madness you howl diamonds and pearls.
AberjhaniStichwörter: poetry madness creativity genius poets diamonds pearls national-poetry-month angel-poems jazz-appreciation-month jazz-music charlie-parker saxophone-players
« erste vorherige
Seite 28 von 31.
nächste letzte »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.