“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.” –
Sunshine cannot bleach the snow,
Nor time unmake what poets know.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Spotted Jack Kerouac and a few of
his beat friends, discussing how
life could be beautiful.
Thought I would and give a listen
to their back and forth ideas, and
believe me, it was all good. It seems
the flow of their words was all
encompassing, never shouting, smiles
When they are done, they will go their
separate ways, only to meet up again,
We rely upon the poets, the philosophers, and the playwrights
to articulate what most of us can only feel, in joy and sorrow.
They illuminate the thoughts for which we only grope; they
give us the strength and balm we cannot find in ourselves.
Whenever I feel my courage wavering I rush to them. They will
give me the wisdom of acceptance, the will and resilience to
— Helen Hayes