CONSIDERING THE VOID
When I behold the charm
of evening skies, their lulling endurance;
the patterns of stars with read more

CONSIDERING THE VOID
When I behold the charm
of evening skies, their lulling endurance;
the patterns of stars with names
of bears and dogs, a swan, a virgin;
other planets that the Voyager showed
were like and so unlike our own,
with all their diverse moons,
bright discs, weird rings, and cratered faces;
comets with their streaming tails
bent by pressure from our sun;
the skyscape of our Milky Way
holding in its shimmering disc
an infinity of suns
(or say a thousand billion);
knowing there are holes of darkness
gulping mass and even light,
knowing that this galaxy of ours
is one of multitudes
in what we call the heavens,
it troubles me. It troubles me.
-President Jimmy Carter- (he has written a volume of poetry as well as a novel, The Hornet's Nest,
about the Revolutionary War).

If Galileo had said in verse that the world moved, the inquisition might have let him alone.

If Galileo had said in verse that the world moved, the inquisition might have let him alone.

Poets arent very usefulBecause they aren't consumeful or produceful..

Poets arent very usefulBecause they aren't consumeful or produceful..

Writing a poem is discovering

Writing a poem is discovering

A poet looks at the world the way a man looks at a woman.

A poet looks at the world the way a man looks at a woman.

Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.

Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted.

Poetry should... should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance.

Poetry should... should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance.

It is in self-limitation that a master first shows himself.

It is in self-limitation that a master first shows himself.

Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all read more

Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.