Exultation is the going
Of an island soul to sea,
Past the houses–
Past the headlands–into deep Eternity–
Bred as we, among the mountains,
Can the sailor understand
The divine intoxication
Of the first league out from land?
- Emily Dickinson
Doctor, you say there are no halos
around the streetlights in Paris
and what I see is an aberration
caused by old age, an affliction.
I tell you it has taken me all my life
to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,
to soften and blur and finally banish
the edges you regret I don’t see,
to learn that the [...]
In honor of National Poetry Month my friend author Mindy Withrow is posting a poem a day. Today it’s Carl Sandburg’s “Chicago.” Sandburg’s poem acknowledges that Chicago is indeed a wicked, crooked, brutal place; and yet, he slugs back at anyone who would make that the whole picture of his city. Chicago, he says, “like [...]
We are inveterate poets. Our imaginations awake.
C. S. Lewis
I’m thinking now an alternative title for this blog might be “The League of Inveterate Poets”
[UPDATE: It was too good to pass up. This blog known for all of two days eponymously as "Foolish Sage" is now The League of Inveterate Poets. I've included the full context [...]
Foolish Sage friend blogger Paul Burkhart recently shared this quote from an interview with poet Joe Weil:
Art is self-indulgence that, if done well, with a good grasp of the craft, and with a sense of constructive dread, ends up serving others. Of course, you can’t predict how it will serve them. . . A poet [...]
This must be why mystics and poets record /
The slender incursions of splintered light, /
Echoes, fragments, odd words and phrases /
Like flashes through darkened hallways. - Rod Jellema