Octavio Paz, The Art of Poetry No. 42 (interviewed by Alfred Mac Adam)
[Text ID: “INTERVIEWER: Is this why the language of mysticism is so erotic?
PAZ: Yes, because lovers, which is what the mystics are, constitute the greatest image of communion. But even between lovers solitude is never completely abolished. Conversely, solitude is never absolute. We are always with someone, even if it is only our shadow. We are never one—we are always we. These extremes are the poles of human life.”]
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—Marianne Boruch, The Art of Poetry
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Skyway Bridge at night. :: (Tampa Bay Waterfront Life and Beaches)
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“The textures of the world are an outline of the infinite. [Wallace] Stevens said, or at least I seem to remember that he said, the thing seen becomes the thing unseen. He also said that the reverse way was impossible. [Theodore] Roethke wrote that all finite things reveal infinitude. What we have, and all we will have, is here in the earthly paradise. How to wring music from it, how to squeeze light out of it, is, as it has always been, the only true question. I’d say that to love the visible things in the visible world is to love their apokatastatic outline in the invisible next.”
— Charles Wright, from an interview by J.D. McClatchy “The Art of Poetry XLI,” Quarter Notes: Improvisations and Interviews (University of Michigan Press, 1995)
[memoryslandscape]
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Everything changes—even alone as I am
in this strange eternity, my mind is restless,
— Maurice Manning, from “The Art of Poetry”, Railsplitter
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Pov : you've befriended a poet
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would you still love me if i was a worm?
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whatever was left, that was ours for a while.
sunrise - louise glück
LizzieOrmian.redbubble.com
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[from my files]
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“The textures of the world are an outline of the infinite. [Wallace] Stevens said, or at least I seem to remember that he said, the thing seen becomes the thing unseen. He also said that the reverse way was impossible. [Theodore] Roethke wrote that all finite things reveal infinitude. What we have, and all we will have, is here in the earthly paradise. How to wring music from it, how to squeeze light out of it, is, as it has always been, the only true question. I’d say that to love the visible things in the visible world is to love their apokatastatic outline in the invisible next.”
— Charles Wright, from an interview by J.D. McClatchy “The Art of Poetry XLI,” Quarter Notes: Improvisations and Interviews (University of Michigan Press, 1995)
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[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled "immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]
a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”
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Remember Hind. Remember Reem. Remember all the little boys and girls who are more than mere numbers. They are dreams, humanity's innocence, and most importantly they are not to be forgotten.
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i love love <333
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