poets

"I stopped writing poetry when I stopped smoking.... It was more complicated than that."

"I write in praise of the solitary act: of not feeling a trespassing tongue forced into one's mouth, one's breath smothered, nipples crushed against the ribcage, and that metallic tingling in the chin set off by a certain odd nerve: unpleasure."

"There are worse things than having behaved foolishly in public. There are worse things than these miniature betrayals, committed or endured or suspected; there are worse things than not being able to sleep for thinking about them. It is 5 a.m. All the worse things come stalking in and stand icily about the bed looking worse and worse and worse"

"Things ...we grew lonely living among the things, so we gave the clock a face, the chair a back, the table four stout legs ...We fitted our shoes with tongues ...and hung tongues inside bells so we could listen ...the pitcher received a lip, the bottle a long, slender neck. ...we gave the country a heart, the storm an eye, the cave a mouth..."

"The Laughter of Women ...Prisoners in underground cells imagine that they see daylight when they remember the laughter of women ...What language it is ... Long before law and scripture ...we understood freedom."

"Tears She looked at the watchful gazelles and the heavy-lidded frogs; she looked at the glass-eyed birds and nervous, black-eyed mice. None of them wept, not even the fish ...Not even the man. Only she carried the sea inside her body."

"Curriculum Vitae 1992 2) In the year of my birth, money was shredded into confetti. ... 5) At home the bookshelves connected heaven and earth. 6) On Sundays the city child waded through pinecones and primrose marshes... 7) My country was struck by history more deadly than earthquakes and hurricanes. 8) My father was... eluding monsters. My mother told me walls had ears. ... 10) Two parents, two daughters, we followed the sun and the moon across the ocean. My grandparents stayed behind in the darkness. ... 13) The death of the mother hurt the daughter into poetry. ... 14) Ordinary life. Knots tying threads... The past pushed away, the future left unimagined for the... glorious, difficult, passionate present. ... 17) And then my father too disappeared. 18) I tried to go home... at the door to my childhood, but it was closed... 19) One day... everyone's face was younger than mine. 20)...The brilliant days and nights are breathless in their hurry. We follow..."

"In Passing How swiftly... ...as if what exists, exists so that it can be lost and become precious"

"An Unanswered Question If I had been the lone survivor of my Tasmanian tribe, the only person in the world to speak my language (as she was), ...and if among all those people staring and pointing and laughing and making their meaningless sounds there had been one thoughtful face, who might have instinctively understood ...the indispensable word I must pass through the bars ...what word would it have been?"

"Midwinter Notes On my shelf of photographs the dead have come to outnumber the living. They stand like artificial flowers among the real ones, so lifelike even God might be fooled. ...Only after our garden became a graveyard ...did the white stem rise from the hermetic bulb, ...five lavender petals ...a brilliant contradiction, out of phase, like an angel strayed into Time, our world."

"Pigeons ...Once they were elegant, carefree; they called to each other in rich, deep voices, and we called them doves and welcomed them to our gardens."

"Imaginary Paintings 6 How Would I Paint the Big Lie Smooth, and deceptively small so that it can be swallowed like something we take for a cold. ...sweet and glossy, that pleases the tongue and goes down easy, never mind the poison inside. 7 How Would I Paint Nostalgia ...A radiant bride in white standing above a waterfall, watching the water rush away..."

"Place and Time ...We're all pillars of salt. ...Where does the music come from and where does it go when it's over— the child's unanswered question about more than music. My mother is dead, and the piano ...burned with our city in World War II. ...it's still her black Bechstein each concert pianist plays for me and... her... fingers are behind each virtuoso performance on the stereo, giving me back my prewar childhood city intact and real."

"Monet Refuses the Operation Doctor, you say there are no haloes around the streetlights in Paris ...it has taken me all my life to arrive at the vision of... lamps as angels, to soften... blur and finally banish the edges... to learn that... the horizon does not exist and sky and water, ...apart, the same state of being. Fifty-four years before I could see Rouen cathedral... built of... shafts of sun and now you want... ...youthful errors: fixed notions of top and bottom, ...wisteria separate from the bridge... Houses of Parliament [that do not] dissolve ...to become the fluid dream of the Thames? I will not return to a universe of objects that don’t know each other, ...The world is flux, and light becomes what it touches, ...so quickly... it would take... ...my brush to catch it. To paint the speed of light! ...shapes, these ... burn to... change our bones... to gases. how heaven pulls earth... to claim this world, blue vapor without end."

"A Nude by Edward Hopper ...this body is home, my childhood is buried here, my sleep rises and sets inside, desire crested and wore itself thin between these bones— I live here."

"Letter from the End of the World I started out as a girl without a shadow, in iron shoes; now, at the end of the world I am a woman full of rain. The journey back should be easy; if this reaches you, wait for me."

"Immortality In Sleeping Beauty's castle the clock strikes one hundred years and the girl in the tower returns to the world [unchanged]. ...fear persists, and... the anger that causes fear persists, ...its trajectory can't be changed or broken, only interrupted."

"Heartland When did we enter the heartless age? ..."

"Alive Together Speaking of marvels, I am alive together with you... I might have been... a woman without a name weeping in Master's bed for my husband, exchanged for a mule, ...I might have been stretched on a totem pole to appease a vindictive god or left, a useless girl-child, to die on a cliff. ... ...I might have been you. ...The odds against us are endless, our chances of being alive together statistically nonexistent; still we have made it, alive in a time when rationalists with square hats and hatless Jehovah's Witnesses agree it is almost over, alive with our lively children who—but for endless ifs— might have missed out..."

"On Reading An Anthology of Postwar German Poetry America saved me ...I was not crushed under rubble, nor was I beaten along a frozen highway; my children are not dead of postwar hunger; ...I have forced no one into a chamber of death. ...I know enough to refuse to say that life is good, but I act as though it were, and skeptical about love, I survive by the witness of my own."

"January Afternoon, With Billie Holiday ...The foolish old songs were right, the heart does, actually, ache from trying to push beyond itself... all that can be imagined; space is not enough... Desire has no object, it simply happens, rises and floats, lighter than air— but she knows that. ... tomorrow is something she remembers."

"The Levitation ...Whatever exists is floating: words without weight, bodies without resistance, feelings wavy as trailing scarves move through the gently dissolving center between heaven and earth where we live, briefly, in a mild light."

"Messages ...Dogs talk to us with their bodies and accept our answers in words. Holes ask for rain; the stunted corpse of an elm is revealed as a sign. We keep breaking the code of the dead, we reply."

"On Finding a Bird's Bones in the Woods Even Einstein, gazing at the slender ribs of the world, ...even he, unlearning the bag and baggage of notion, must have kept some shred in which to clothe that shape, as we, who cannot escape ...swaddle this tiny world of bone in all that we have known..."

"A Prayer For Rain ...let love be brought to ignorance again."

"The Biographer I came to live in your house restored your pictures, brought back your books, discovered the key to your desk, moved the yellow chair to the window— and now you come in, asking whose house this is."

"In The Rag And Bone Shop Trade me, shopkeeper Yeats, one filthy rag, one bone that can make poetry for all the jeweled bits. ...A rag to light a fire, a bone to whistle on! Proprietary, proud..."

"What the Dog Perhaps Hears ...We would like to ask the dog if there is a continuous whir because the child... keeps growing, if the snake really stretches full length without a click and the sun breaks through clouds without a decibel... whether in autum, when the trees dry up... there isn't a shudder... What is it like up there For us... the newborn bird is suddenly here, ... we heard nothing when the world changed."

"Happy and Unhappy Families II In the play, we know what must happen long before it happens, and we call it a tragedy. Here at home, this winter, we have no name for it."

""O Brave New World, That Hath Such People In It" Soon you will be like her, 's daughter, finding the door that leads out of yourself ...where you live with the gracious and light-footed creatures that thrive in the glaze of your art and freedom. ...Soon you will ...banish yourself from the one flawless place."

"In the Thriving Season In memory of my mother. Now she catches fistfuls of sun ...My first child in her first spring stretches bare hands back to your darkness and heals your silence..."

"A Holy Madness To say thou to the sun and call the wind brother; to be humble before a grain of sand and speak familiarly to the sea; to preach to the birds in earnest ...o holy love, sweet lunacy, which of us, seeing a child exhorting a deaf robin, does not bless that child for the paradise in his head? Be praised, my Lord, for Francis, brother to lilies..."

"Why I Need the Birds ...By the time I arrive at evening, ...they are turning into the dreamwork of trees; and all of us... myself and the purple finches, and rusty blackbirds, the ruby cardinals, the white-throated sparrows with their liquid voices— ride the dark curve of the earth toward daylight, which they announce from their high lookouts before dawn has quite broken..."

"Bach Transcribing Vivaldi One remembered the sunrise, how clearly it gave substance and praise to the mountains... the other imagined twilight, the setting in blood, and a valley of fallen leaves where a stranger might rest."

"[Mueller's] sense of history gives her poems a rare philosophical intensity."

"Moon Fishing ...And they fished till a traveler passed and said, "Fools, to catch the moon you must let your women spread their hair on the water— even the wiley moon will leap to that bobbing net of shimmering threads..." And they fished... ..."Fools, ...You must cut out your hearts and bait your hooks ...what matter you lose your hearts to reel in your dream?" And they fished... ..."Fools, what good is the moon to a heartless man? ...get on your knees, and drink as you never have, ...And they fished with their lips and tongues until the water was gone and the moon had slipped away in the soft bottomless mud."

"A Grackle Observed Watching the black grackle come out... into the sun, I am dazzled by an unsuspected sheen, yellow, purple and green, ...until he, unaware of what he means... hops back... and leaves the shining part ...behind, as though brightness must outgrow its... worldly dress and enter the mind... as vision... pure light."

"Mueller's poem Muse... interprets art through an individual perspective and latches onto lonesome painted figures. The major influence on her poetry is her childhood experience fleeing Nazi Germany with her family. Having witnessed atrocities in her homeland and escaped death she is both aware of injustice and thankful. Specifically, she is concerned with her position as an outsider in America. ...The poem ...chronicles her own discovery of the painting's meaning in relation to her life. ...[S]he translates the image to the present day. She fills in and rounds the images within contexts. ...She means, how does any artist know her work will endure when they sit alone, isolated, commenting on a melancholy world?"

"[H]er book is a testament to the miraculous power of language to interpret and transform our world. It is a testament that invites readers to share her vision of experiences we all have in common..."

"Is there anything else in this world other than love, that you will never get bored of recurrence?"

"The Blind Leading the Blind Take my hand. There are two of us in this cave. The sound you hear is water; you will hear it forever. ...You will learn toads from diamonds, the fist from the palm, love from the sweat of love, falling from flying. ...Once I fell off a precipice. Once I found gold. ...There are two of us here. Touch me."

"[H]er sense of the universality of the fairy tale to explore the human psyche gives her poems a metaphoric brilliance. And in the center of this brilliance is the power of the fairy tale-and, indeed, of the poem-to transform."

"When they force me to accept the massacre as love Do you know that I am with you."

"Create a work ethic that makes you stand out from people who just consider art as a hobby."

"However, as Rwandans, we need to realise that there is more that we can do to contribute to the life of an artiste."

"Sometimes, you need to completely take a break from creating and watch other people do their arts and allow yourself the time to get inspired from that."

"When I find it hard to write or create, it’s often a sign to take a break and be with family and friends, but to also move in your body by doing some exercises."

"Stay true to yourself and work hard to become the person you dream to be."

"I am not going to say it’s easy but it’s definitely worth it when you love it and when you know what you are capable of and willing to go through thick and thin to make sure that what you envision for yourself becomes true."

"This is an atrocity that happens and my hope is the piece pulls people in to be witnesses of what they are denying."