Charles Wright
Born
in Pickwick Dam, Tennessee, The United States
August 25, 1935
Genre
|
Black Zodiac
—
published
1997
—
10 editions
|
|
|
Caribou: Poems
—
published
2014
—
5 editions
|
|
|
Appalachia: Poems
—
published
1998
—
5 editions
|
|
|
The World of the Ten Thousand Things: Poems 1980-1990
—
published
1990
—
5 editions
|
|
|
Negative Blue: Selected Later Poems
—
published
2000
—
5 editions
|
|
|
The Best American Poetry 2008
by
—
published
1990
—
7 editions
|
|
|
Scar Tissue: Poems
—
published
2006
—
9 editions
|
|
|
A Short History of the Shadow: Poems
—
published
2002
—
8 editions
|
|
|
Chickamauga: Poems
—
published
1995
—
5 editions
|
|
|
Sestets
—
published
2009
—
6 editions
|
|
“What makes us leave what we love best?
What is it inside us that keeps erasing itself
When we need it most,
That sends us into uncertainty for its own sake
And holds us flush there
until we begin to love it
And have to begin again?
What is it within our own lives we decline to live
Whenever we find it,
making our days unendurable,
And nights almost visionless?
I still don't know yet, but I do it.”
― Littlefoot: A Poem
What is it inside us that keeps erasing itself
When we need it most,
That sends us into uncertainty for its own sake
And holds us flush there
until we begin to love it
And have to begin again?
What is it within our own lives we decline to live
Whenever we find it,
making our days unendurable,
And nights almost visionless?
I still don't know yet, but I do it.”
― Littlefoot: A Poem
“Our dreams are luminous, a cast fire upon the world.
Morning arrives and that's it.
Sunlight darkens the earth.”
―
Morning arrives and that's it.
Sunlight darkens the earth.”
―
“We've all led raucous lives,
some of them inside, some of them out.
But only the poem you leave behind is what's important.
Everyone knows this.
The voyage into the interior is all that matters,
Whatever your ride.
Sometimes I can't sit still for all the asininities I read.
Give me the hummingbird, who has to eat sixty times
His own weight a day just to stay alive.
Now that's a life on the edge.”
― Littlefoot: A Poem
some of them inside, some of them out.
But only the poem you leave behind is what's important.
Everyone knows this.
The voyage into the interior is all that matters,
Whatever your ride.
Sometimes I can't sit still for all the asininities I read.
Give me the hummingbird, who has to eat sixty times
His own weight a day just to stay alive.
Now that's a life on the edge.”
― Littlefoot: A Poem
Topics Mentioning This Author
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|---|---|---|---|---|
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