Lewis Carrol, Jabberwocky
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Margaret Walker, I Want to Write
I want to write
the songs of my people.
I want to hear them
singing melodies in the dark.
I want to catch the last floating strains
from their sob-torn throats.
I want to frame their dreams
their souls into notes.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I wish our clever young poets would remember my homely definitions of prose and poetry; that is prose = words in their best order; poetry = the best words in the best order.
Muriel Rukeyser, Water Night
The sky behind the farthest shore
Is darker than I go to sleep.
Blackness of water, the crater at the core,
The many blacknesses begin to gleam.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
[Poetry] lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.
Lucille Clifton, To A Dark Moses
you are the one
i am lit for.
Come with your rod
and is a serpent.
i am the bush.
i am burning
i am not consumed.
Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales
A knyght ther was, and that a worthy man,
That fro the tyme that he first bigan
To riden out, he loved chivalrie,
Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisie.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnets from the Portuguese
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.