For me, poetry is an impish attempt to paint the colour of the wind.

For me, poetry is an impish attempt to paint the colour of the wind.

When the brain gets as dry as an empty nut,
When the reason stands on its squarest toes,
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When the brain gets as dry as an empty nut,
When the reason stands on its squarest toes,
When the mind (like a beard) has a "formal cut,"--
There is a place and enough for the pains of prose;
But whenever the May-blood stires and glows,
And the young year draws to the "golden prime,"
And Sir Romeo sticks in his ear a rose,--
Then hey! for the ripple of laughing rhyme!

A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove read more

A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it. A poet utterly clear is a trifle glaring.

Poetry is all nouns and verbs.

Poetry is all nouns and verbs.

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.

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.

The courage of the Poet is to keep ajar the door that leads into madness.

The courage of the Poet is to keep ajar the door that leads into madness.

In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column:
In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.

In the hexameter rises the fountain's silvery column:
In the pentameter aye falling in melody back.

However, if a poem can be reduced to a prose sentence, there can't be much to it.

However, if a poem can be reduced to a prose sentence, there can't be much to it.