Paul Verlaine on writing

Paul Verlaine wrote:

"You must let your poems ride their luck
On the back of the sharp morning air
Touched with the fragrance of mint and thyme ...
And everything else is Literature."

Nelso Algren quote

Nelson Algren, author of A Walk on the Wild Side, set in Louisiana and made into a motion picture, said:

"A certain ruthlessness and a sense of alienation from society is as essential to creative writing as it is to armed robbery."

Honoré de Balza

Honoré de Balzac was an incredible, prolific writer. I wonder if it was because he drank 50 cups of coffee daily. So, writers, is this the secret to success?

Still one must take into consideration that he died when he was only 51.

At what price fame?

Quote from Jeanette Winterson on poetry

I read an article in the NY Times on March 9th about the author Jeanette Winterson

and thought it was so good, that I am quoting her here on my little blog. So here's one for all you poets out there, struggling with the "tough language."

“When people say that poetry is a luxury, or an option, or for the educated middle classes, or that it shouldn’t be read at school because it is irrelevant, I suspect that the people doing the saying have had things pretty easy. A tough life needs a tough language—and that is what poetry is.”

Jeanette Winterson, author, of: Why Be Happy, When You Can Be Normal?

Poem "Oxymoronic"

Oxymoronic—

I understand the word now—

It’s seeing this snow flutter and fall

to cover cottonwoods just leafing out,

to smother pansies, tulips and daffodils—

the fresh-mown emerald grass on the golf course

in Jeremy Ranch

To these expressions:

gigantic shrimp,

and steel magnolias,

I add this: remnant, residual, linger-

ing winter snow-covered spring blossoming.

My first scan and a poem

Appearances

What it seems to be

is a 3 X 5 black leather passport

and now sits in the left hand corner

of the red suede blotter on my desk.

Thick black linen tape runs

along the back spine, covering

¾ of an inch back and front.

It is undated, unmarked except

for a beige embossed centerpiece—

a depiction of a black wrought-iron tripod

and on top a black, burnt kettle

smoke pouring out. A curlicue iron

arm stretches over the firepot and little

musicians, tiny, medium and fat-bellied

wearing hats waltz across it.

When you open the booklet it’s lined

with antique marble end papers

of deep dusty rose and white.

It’s not a passport. It's an artifact

from a recent trip to Bordeaux.

The dinner bill from La Tupina

came inside, and I high-jacked it,

with some super-duper high jinks,

maneuver when the waiter wasn't looking,

thinking I might write miniature

poems to place inside one day...

today.

"Appearances" first appeared in Bridle Path Press

(published on BBP 10/25)