Poetry Is An Orphan Of Silence.

Poetry Is An Orphan Of Silence. The Words Never Quite Equal The Experience Behind Them.

The Plain Truth Is We Are Going To Die. Here I Am, A Teeny Spec Surrounded By Boundless Space And Time, Arguing With The Whole Of Creation, Shaking My Fist, Sputtering, Growing Even Eloquent At Times, And Then-poof! I Am Gone. Swept Off Once And For All. I Think That Is Very, Very Funny.

There Are People Who Live Inside Their Heads And Their Intellects. It's Something One Is Born With And Stuck With. It's Not Something You Make A Decision About.

Poetry Is An Orphan Of Silence.

We Name One Thing And Then Another. That’s How Time Enters Poetry. Space, On The Other Hand, Comes Into Being Through The Attention We Pay To Each Word. The More Intense Our Attention, The More Space, And There’s A Lot Of Space Inside Words.