I love those quotes all stumbled upon and "right"... They're so much better than the quotes that I search for, the ones that I wish said just the right thing. Quote hunting is fun, of course. But, some days, I discover a quote that seems to have been placed there just for me (in a book, on a web page, or on a graffiti-ridden wall on the side of the road). It found me:
"For women... poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, and then into more tangible action. Poetry is the way we help give name to the nameless so it can be thought. The farthest horizons of our hopes and fears are cobbled by our poems, carved from the rock experiences of our daily lives." - Audre Lorde
What does poetry mean to you? Is your day brightened when a few lines run through your head? Do you find yourself murmuring/whispering words... tasting them to see how they will sound, how they will feel--before you let them live?
If your day ever feels incomplete, try reading a poem. Sit still for just a few moments and let the words seep into you...
"For women... poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, and then into more tangible action. Poetry is the way we help give name to the nameless so it can be thought. The farthest horizons of our hopes and fears are cobbled by our poems, carved from the rock experiences of our daily lives." - Audre Lorde
What does poetry mean to you? Is your day brightened when a few lines run through your head? Do you find yourself murmuring/whispering words... tasting them to see how they will sound, how they will feel--before you let them live?
If your day ever feels incomplete, try reading a poem. Sit still for just a few moments and let the words seep into you...
Comments
Here’s one for you and Shelley:
Extracts From the Diary of La Gioconda, By Nazim Hikmet
…Damn your Paris, your Louvre!
I’ll write my memoirs
one the back of my portrait.
Look here:
I’ve made a beginning
by stealing a fountain-pen
from a short-sighted American
who sticks his red nose in my skirts,
his hair reeking of wine!
I’m writing on the back of my picture
the agony of one whose smile is famous…
…The Louvre asleep.
In the gloom the armless Venus
resembles a world war soldier.
A Chavlier’s golden helmet gleams:
the nightwatch torches light on
an obscure painting…
I hope you will write to us about Book Fairs this fall. Ours is this weekend, though I don’t think I’ll be able to make it; I’m afraid I have nothing to wear!
Oh, my, Hikmet–I adore him to pieces, it
heartens me to know someone else has read
him! Thank you for reminding me of this
poem, Gretchen!