I can't tell you where a poem comes from, what it is, or what it is for: nor can any other man. The reason I can't tell you is that the purpose of a poem is to go past telling, to be recognised by burning.
Interpretation
A poem's essence transcends explanation, aiming to evoke deep recognition rather than clarity.
A. R. Ammons emphasizes that poetry cannot be confined to rigid definitions or purposes. Instead, the true impact of poetry lies in its ability to elicit visceral emotions and experiences that cannot be verbalized, suggesting that the recognition of a poem's worth comes from an internal, almost primal understanding, rather than intellectual analysis.
In practice
During a literary discussion, one might use this quote to illustrate the profound nature of poetry.
Even if you walk exactly the same route each time - as with a sonnet - the events along the route cannot be imagined to be the same from day to day, as the poet's health, sight, his anticipations, moods, fears, thoughts cannot be the same.
If the greatest god is the stillness all the motions add up to, then we must ineluctably be included.
For though we often need to be restored to the small, concrete, limited, and certain, we as often need to be reminded of the large, vague, unlimited, unknown
Definition, rationality, and structure are ways of seeing, but they become prisons when they blank out other ways of seeing.
One of my fears is not writing. I don't know how to do anything else.
I tell myself that I created the wardrobe of the contemporary woman, that I participated in the transformation of my times.
Rhythm is a perception of time... when drawing, the tiredness of the hand is a rhythm.
Where would fashion be without literature?
The institutions of human society treat us as parts of a machine. They assign us ranks and place considerable pressure upon us to fulfill defined roles. We need something to help us restore our lost and distorted humanity. Each of us has feelings that have been suppressed and have built up inside. There is a voiceless cry resting in the depths of our souls, waiting for expression. Art gives the soul's feelings voice and form.
Each color lives by its mysterious life.
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