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Mountain, mountain, mountain, marking time. Each nameless, wall beyond wall, wavering redefinition of horizon.

Denise Levertov

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Denise Levertov
Age: 74 †
Born: 1923
Born: October 24
Died: 1997
Died: December 20
Poet
Translator
Writer
Ilford
London
Priscilla D Levertoff
Priscilla Denise Levertoff
Priscilla Denise Levertov
Horizon
Mountain
Wall
Beyond
Time
Redefinition
Marking
Wavering
Nameless

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Let me walk through the fields of paper touching with my wand dry stems and stunted butterflies.
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One of the obligations of the writer is to say or sing all that he or she can, to deal with as much of the world as becomes possible to him or her in language.
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What joy when the insouciant armadillo glances at us and doesn't quicken his trotting across the track into the palm brush. What is this joy? That no animal falters, but knows what it must do?
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slowly the pale dew-beads of light lapped up from flowers can thicken, darken to gold: honey of the human.
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You can live for years next door to a big pine tree, honored to have so venerable a neighbor, even when it sheds needles all over your flowers or wakes you, dropping big cones onto your deck at still of night.
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There's in my mind a... turbulent moon-ridden girl or old woman, or both, dressed in opals and rags, feathers and torn taffeta, who knows strange songs but she is not kind.
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The vast silence of Buddha overtakes and overrules the oncoming roar of tragic life that fills alleys and avenues it blocks the way of pedicabs, police, convoys.
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Two girls discover the secret of life in a sudden line of poetry.
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Praise the invisible sun burning beyond the white cold sky, giving us light and the chimney's shadow.
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In June the bush we call alder was heavy, listless, its leaves studded with galls, growing wherever we didn't want it.
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I believe every space and comma is a living part of the poem and has its function, just as every muscle and pore of the body has its function. And the way the lines are broken is a functioning part essential to the life of the poem.
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Breathe the sweetness that hovers in August.
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I like to find what's not found at once, but lies within something of another nature, in repose, distinct.
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Images split the truth in fractions.
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At Delphi I prayed to Apollo that he maintain in me the flame of the poem and I drank of the brackish spring there.
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Love is a landscape the long mountains define but don't shut off from the unseeable distance.
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Let the space under the first storey be dark, let the water lap the stone posts, and vivid green slime glimmer upon them let a boat be kept there.
Denise Levertov
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Teachers at all levels encourage the idea that you have to talk about things in order to understand them, because they wouldn't have jobs, otherwise. But it's phony, you know.
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The AvowalAs swimmers dareto lie face to the skyand water bears them,as hawks rest upon airand air sustains themso would I learn to attain freefall, and floatinto Creator Spirit's deep embrace,knowing no effort earnsthat all-surrounding grace.
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There is no savor more sweet, more salt than to be glad to be what, woman, and who, myself, I am.
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