Can or can’t see the word for the trees …

“Trees” (1913) I think that I shall never seeA poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prestAgainst the earth’s sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day,And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in Summer wearA nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose…

Ars Poetica VII

From Mary Oliver: “My Friend Walt Whitman” … I learned from Whitman that the poem is a temple—or a green field—a place to enter, and in which to feel. Only in a secondary way is it an intellectual thing—an artifact, a moment of seemly and robust wordiness—wonderful as that part of it is. I learned…

I want to listen to the enormous waterfalls of the sun

Today I read “Dogfish” by Mary Oliver in the light of my own ongoing preoccupation with meaninglessness, fear & creative excess. Here is a short excerpt from the original poem: (…) I wanted the past to go away, I wanted to leave it, like another country; I wanted my life to close, and open like a…

Synchronicity

Yesterday I got worried when finding traces & hints of Samuel Beckett, a great favourite of mine, in my own writing. (Beckett really is a figure one wouldn’t try to imitate – bla – bla – bla). Today, a happy day of strange coincidences (Jung would probably call it synchronicity*), I read this in Mary Oliver’s A…

A Thousand Mornings

There’s something about the ocean – Mary Oliver (b. 1935) I have just recently posted the two ocean-poems; “Any fool can get into an ocean” & “Thing Language” by Jack Spicer. Today I’ve viewed the ocean from a new perspective, through the eyes of Mary Oliver in her wonderful new book of poems called A Thousand Mornings….