Turn on the dream you lived
through the unwavering gaze.
It is as you thought: the living burn.
In the floating days
may you discover grace.
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To me, poetry is somebody standing up, so to speak, and saying, with as little concealment as possible, what it is for him or her to be on earth at this moment
Galway KinnellSecond-hand gloves will become lovely again, their memories are what give them the need for other hands. And the desolation of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness carved out of such tiny beings as we are asks to be filled; the need for the new love is faithfulness to the old.
Galway KinnellThis happened to your father and to you, Galway-sick to stay, longing
to come up against the ends of the earth, and climb over.
When a group of people get up from a table, the table doesn’t
know which way any of them will go.
Tag: poetry
The first step ... shall be to lose the way.
Galway KinnellLet our scars fall in love.
Galway KinnellTag: poetry
There are two versions to every poem – the crying version and the straight version
Galway KinnellLittle sleep's-head sprouting hair in the moonlight,
when I come back
we will go out together,
we will walk out together among,
the ten thousand things,
each scratched too late with such knowledge, the wages of dying is love.
Sometimes it is necessary
To reteach a thing its loveliness
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