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Poetry is language surprised in the act of changing into meaning.
Stanley Kunitz
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Stanley Kunitz
Age: 100 †
Born: 1905
Born: July 29
Died: 2006
Died: May 14
Linguist
Poet
Translator
Writer
Worcester
Massachusetts
Stanley Jasspon Kunitz
Surprised
Changing
Meaning
Poetry
Language
More quotes by Stanley Kunitz
My mother never forgave my father
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It is my heart that's late, it is my song that's flown.
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Certainly the modern poets I cherish most are disturbing spirits they do not come to coo.
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I can hardly wait for tomorrow, it means a new life for me each and every day.
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I like an ending that's both a door and a window.
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Darling, do you remember the man you married? Touch me, remind me who I am.
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Memory is each man's poet-in-residence.
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I dance/for the joy of surviving, at the edge of the road.
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How shall the heart be reconciled / To its feast of losses?
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The poem comes in the form of a blessing, like rapture breaking on the mind.
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I have walked through many lives, some of them my own, and I am not who I was, though some principle of being abides, from which I struggle not to stray.
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Poetry is ultimately mythology, the telling of stories of the soul. The old myths, the old gods, the old heroes have never died. They are only sleeping at the bottom of our minds, waiting for our call. We have need of them, for in their sum they epitomize the wisdom and experience of the race.
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Live in the layers, not on the litter.
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I dropped my hoe and ran into the house and started to write this poem, 'End of Summer.’ It began as a celebration of wild geese. Eventually the geese flew out of the poem, but I like to think they left behind the sound of their beating wings.
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An old poet ought never to be caught with his technique showing.
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Poetry today is easier to write but harder to remember.
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Poetry is the enemy of the poem.
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Deftly they opened the brain of a child, and it was full of flying dreams.
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In my darkest night, when the moon was covered and I roamed through wreckage, a nimbus-clouded voice directed me: Live in the layers, not on the litter. Though I lack the art to decipher it, no doubt the next chapter in my book of transformations is already written. I am not done with my changes.
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A poem has secrets that the poet knows nothing of.
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