Your mom can't hate a whole country because of one person!
The first year was like icing. Then the cake started to show through.
Poetry comes to me out of thin air or out of my unconscious mind. It's sort of the way dreams come to us and the way that we get knowledge from them, through television, old movies, which I watch a lot of. Lines of dialogue suddenly seem to be part of a poem.
The soul is not a soul, Has no secret, is small, and it fits Its hollow perfectly: its room, our moment of attention.
I always thought that writing poetry was in itself a political act.
And we may be led, then, upward through more Powerful forms of poetry, past columns With peeling posters on them, to the country of indifference. Meanwhile if the swell diapasons, blooms Unhappily and too soon, the little people are nonetheless real.
I feel that poetry is going on all the time inside, an underground stream.
If there's not someone in your social circle who doesn't look like you, then shame on you.
And, just for good measure, here are a handful of runners up: For now the seventh summer carries you, A wanderer, across the lands and waters.
Never argue with your characters; they know themselves better than you do
Just go on. . and faith will soon return.