Come celebrate with me that every day something has tried to kill me and has failed.
Lucille CliftonRead
I think that were beginning to remember that the first poets didn't come out of a classroom, that poetry began when somebody walked off of a savanna or out of a cave and looked up at the sky with wonder and said, "Ahhh." That was the first poem.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote emphasizes that poetry originates from a natural human experience of wonder, rather than from formal education.
Lucille Clifton reflects on the origins of poetry, suggesting that it is deeply rooted in the primal human experience and the instinctive expression of awe. The act of simple observation—looking up at the sky and feeling wonder—was perhaps the initial spark that inspired the first poets, emphasizing that creativity arises from genuine human emotion and connection to the world around us, rather than solely from academic settings.
Themes
PoetryWonderCreativityNatureArt
In practice
Example use cases
This quote is perfect for a poetry workshop to encourage participants to find inspiration in their everyday experiences.
More from Lucille Clifton
All quotes →I am running into a new year and the old years blow back like a wind that I catch in my hair like strong fingers like all my old promises and it will be hard to let go of what I said to myself about myself when I was sixteen and twenty-six and thirty-six but I am running into a new year and I beg what i love and I leave to forgive me.
Lucille CliftonRead
You might as well answer the door, my child, the truth is furiously knocking.
Lucille CliftonRead
won't you celebrate with me what i have shaped into a kind of life? i had no model. born in babylon both nonwhite and woman what did i see to be except myself? i made it up here on this bridge between starshine and clay, my one hand holding tight my other hand; come celebrate with me that everyday something has tried to kill me and has failed.
Lucille CliftonRead
If i should enter the house and speak with my own voice, at last, about its awful furnitutre, pulling apart the covering over the dusty bodies; the randy father, the husband holding ice in his hand like a blessing, the mother bleeding into herself and the small imploding girl, i say if i should walk into that web, who will come flying after me, leaping tall buildings? you?
Lucille CliftonRead
blessing the boats (at saint mary’s) may the tide that is entering even now the lip of our understanding carry you out beyond the face of fear may you kiss the wind then turn from it certain that it will love your back may you open your eyes to water water waving forever and may you in your innocence sail through this to that
Lucille CliftonRead
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