Without devotion any life becomes a stranger's story...told for the body to forget what it once loved.
Every poem holds the unspeakable inside it. The unsayable... The thing that you can't really say because it's too complicated. It's too complex for u… - Marie Howe
Every poem holds the unspeakable inside it. The unsayable... The thing that you can't really say because it's too complicated. It's too complex for u…
- Marie Howe
But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the window glass, say, the window of the corner video store, and I'm gripped by a… - Marie Howe
But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the window glass, say, the window of the corner video store, and I'm gripped by a…
We tell each other stories to help each other live. That’s why I read poetry. I read poetry to stay alive. That’s why I went to poetry in the first p… - Marie Howe
We tell each other stories to help each other live. That’s why I read poetry. I read poetry to stay alive. That’s why I went to poetry in the first p…
I am living. I remember you. - Marie Howe
I am living. I remember you.
Poetry is telling something to someone. - Marie Howe
Poetry is telling something to someone.
A traitor commits his crime but once. The rest/is retribution. - Marie Howe
A traitor commits his crime but once. The rest/is retribution.
Bedeviled, human, your plight, in waking, is to choose from the words that even now sleep on your tongue, and to know that tangled among them and te… - Marie Howe
Bedeviled, human, your plight, in waking, is to choose from the words that even now sleep on your tongue, and to know that tangled among them and te…
When we think we have something to say we are usually wrong. We are fooling ourselves. Trip into discovery. Don't write what you know, discover somet… - Marie Howe
When we think we have something to say we are usually wrong. We are fooling ourselves. Trip into discovery. Don't write what you know, discover somet…
Without devotion any life becomes a stranger's story...told for the body to forget what it once loved. - Marie Howe
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