Quote

You must believe: a poem is a holy thing - a good poem, that is. The poem, even a short time after being written, seems no miracle unwritten, it seems something beyond the capacity of the gods.

Theodore Roethke

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Theodore Roethke
Age: 55 †
Born: 1908
Born: May 25
Died: 1963
Died: August 1
Poet
Teacher
Writer
Saginaw
Michigan
Seems
Gods
Must
Miracle
Even
Capacity
Thing
Short
Something
Poetry
Believe
Beyond
Good
Holy
Unwritten
Time
Written
Poem

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Being, not doing, is my first joy.
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The fields stretch out in long unbroken rows. We walk aware of what is far and close. Here distance is familiar as a friend. The feud we kept with space comes to an end.
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What's important? That which is dug out of books, or out of the guts?
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A too explicit elucidation in education destroys much of the pleasure of learning. There should be room for sly hinters, masters of suggestion.
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And soon a branch, part of a hidden scene,The leafy mind, that long was tightly furled,Will turn its private substance into green,And young shoots spread upon our inner world.
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A mind too active is no mind at all.
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How body from spirit slowly does unwind, until we are pure spirit at the end.
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So much of adolescence is an ill-defined dying, An intolerable waiting, A longing for another place and time, Another condition.
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When I go mad, I call my friends by phone: I am afraid they might think they're alone.
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What have I done, dear God, to deserve this perpetual feeling that I'm almost ready to begin something really new?
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Fear was my father, Father Fear. His look drained the stones.
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I lose and find myself in the long water. I am gathered together once more.
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Time marks us while we are marking time.
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Long live the weeds that overwhelm My narrow vegetable realm! The bitter rock, the barren soil That force the son of man to toil All things unholy, marred by curse, The ugly of the universe.
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The self says, I am The heart says, I am less The spirit says, you are Nothing.
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In the kingdom of bang and blab.
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What falls away is always. And is near.
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