Showing posts with label spirit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spirit. Show all posts
10.31.2020
3.13.2020
paper bandages
Some poems are bandages for the wounds of the soul, the lacerations of the spirit.
Labels:
bandages,
laceration,
soul,
spirit,
wounds
3.28.2019
content first
What matters to me even more than the shapeliness and the dance of language is what the poem discovers deeper down than the gracefulness and pleasures in figures of speech. I respond most to what is found out about the heart and spirit, what we can hear through the language. Best of all, of course, is when the language and other means of poetry combine with the meaning to make us experience what we understand. We are most likely to find this union by starting with the insides of a poem rather than with its surface, with its content rather than with its packaging. Too often in workshops and classrooms there is a concentration on the poem’s garments instead of its life blood.
—Linda Gregg, American Poet (2001)
—Linda Gregg, American Poet (2001)
Labels:
content,
garments,
heart,
life blood,
linda gregg,
shapellness,
spirit
9.04.2018
retrospective advantage
Often when someone longs for ‘the spirit of the past’, they forget that spirit was a critical distillate made during a successive age.
Labels:
age,
canon,
critical reading,
distillate,
past,
spirit,
time
10.21.2017
craft spirit
Perhaps we need less of the creative spirit and more of the attention to craft.
Labels:
attention,
craft,
creative,
creative writing,
spirit
4.02.2011
moral compass
“I can’t imagine an immoral person bothering with poetry," [Lucien Stryk] shoots back, “and by ‘immoral,’ I’m not talking about trivialities. I mean in the largest sense, in the way the person relates to the world, his spirit. In the poets that affect me, there is always that element of desire and hope.”
I thirsted for seasons,
dragging a leaden shadow
into nothingness. Now,
as fire meets ice, I see.
[from “Lake Down”]
—Lucien Stryk, quoted by Susan Porterfield in “Poetry and Lentil Soup: A Profile of Lucien Stryk,” the afterword of Where We Are: Selected Poems and Zen Translations (Skoob Books, LTD, London, 1997) by Lucien Stryk
I thirsted for seasons,
dragging a leaden shadow
into nothingness. Now,
as fire meets ice, I see.
[from “Lake Down”]
—Lucien Stryk, quoted by Susan Porterfield in “Poetry and Lentil Soup: A Profile of Lucien Stryk,” the afterword of Where We Are: Selected Poems and Zen Translations (Skoob Books, LTD, London, 1997) by Lucien Stryk
12.24.2010
7.25.2010
selfish sin
The personal idiosyncrasies that creep into a work of art are not essential; in fact, the more we have to cope with these peculiarities, the less is it a question of art. What is essential in a work of art is that it should rise far above the realm of personal life and speak from the spirit and heart of the poet as man to the spirit and heart of mankind. The personal aspect is a limitation—and even a sin—in realm of art.
—Carl Gustav Jung, “The Poet”
—Carl Gustav Jung, “The Poet”
Labels:
art,
c.g. jung,
heart,
idiosyncratic,
personal,
quote,
spirit,
work of art
3.28.2009
to preserve the pure
To try to hold oneself apart from the institutional inertia and those internecine critical forces that beset the pure spirit of what poetry is.
Labels:
criticism,
inertia,
institutional,
purity,
spirit
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