Franz Wright (March 18, 1953 – May 14, 2015) was an American poet. He and his father James Wright are the only parent/child pair to have won the Pulitzer Prize in the same category.
EPITAPH Now I'm not the brightest knife in the drawer, but I know a couple things about this life: poverty silence, impermanence discipline and mystery The world is not illusory, we are From crimson thread to toe tag If you are not disturbed there is something seriously wrong with you, I'm sorry And I know who I am I'll be a voice coming from nowhere, inside-- be glad for me.
This is no occupation for an adult who can look other adults in the eye, carry his own weight, and count himself one of them.
The long silences need to be loved, perhaps more than the words which arrive to describe them in time.
Its hard for me to grasp that I might somehow be my fathers equal in any way.
literature will lose, sunlight will win, don't worry.
The humiliation I go throughwhen I think of my pastcan only be described as grace. We are created by being destroyed.
I believe one day the distance between myself and God will disappear.
I wish you all the aloneness you hunger for.
And the night smells like snow. Walking home for a moment you almost believe you could start again. And an intense love rushes to your heart, and hope. It’s unendurable, unendurable.
Should each individual snowflake be held accountable for the avalanche?
Poem in other words may or may not result from inspiration but must (in reader and author alike) produce it--
I basked in you; I loved you, helplessly, with a boundless tongue-tied love. And death doesn't prevent me from loving you. Besides, in my opinion you aren't dead. (I know dead people, and you are not dead. )
We are created by being destroyed.
There is only one heart in my body, have mercy on me.
I wish my father could be around.