(1 February 1927 / Providence, Rhode Island)

Quotations

  • ''this one whom habit of memory propels to the ground of his making,
    sleeper only the mortal sounds can sing awake,
    this blessing love gives again into our arms.''
    Galway Kinnell (b. 1927), U.S. poet. After Making Love We Hear Footsteps (l. 21-23). . . Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry, The. Richard Ellmann and Robert O'Clair, eds. (2d ed., 1988) W. W. Norton & Company.
    4 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • ''after making love, quiet, touching along the length of our bodies,
    familiar touch of the long-married,''
    Galway Kinnell (b. 1927), U.S. poet. After Making Love We Hear Footsteps (l. 10-11). . . Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry, The. Richard Ellmann and Robert O'Clair, eds. (2d ed., 1988) W. W. Norton & Company.
    5 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • ''A boy's hunched body loved out of a stalk
    The first song of his happiness, and the song woke
    His heart to the darkness and into the sadness of joy.''
    Galway Kinnell (b. 1927), U.S. poet. First Song (l. 16-18). . . Norton Anthology of Poetry, The. Alexander W. Allison and others, eds. (3d ed., 1983) W. W. Norton & Company.
    3 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • ''There is something joyous in the elegies
    Of birds. They seem
    Caught up in a formal delight,
    Though the mourning dove whistles of despair.''
    Galway Kinnell (b. 1927), U.S. poet. Flower Herding on Mount Monadnock (l. 25-28). . . New Oxford Book of American Verse, The. Richard Ellmann, ed. (1976) Oxford University Press.
    2 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • ''The appeal to heaven breaks off.
    The petals begin to fall, in self-forgiveness.
    It is a flower. On this mountainside it is dying.''
    Galway Kinnell (b. 1927), U.S. poet. Flower Herding on Mount Monadnock (l. 75-78). . . New Oxford Book of American Verse, The. Richard Ellmann, ed. (1976) Oxford University Press.
    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • ''the sheer blue milken dreaminess spurting and shuddering
    from the fourteen teats into the fourteen mouths sucking and blowing beneath them:
    the long, perfect loveliness of sow.''
    Galway Kinnell (b. 1927), U.S. poet. Saint Francis and the Sow (l. 21-23). . . Norton Introduction to Poetry, The. J. Paul Hunter, ed. (3d ed., 1986) W. W. Norton & Company.
    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • ''The bud
    stands for all things,
    even for those things that don't flower,''
    Galway Kinnell (b. 1927), U.S. poet. Saint Francis and the Sow (l. 1-3). . . Norton Introduction to Poetry, The. J. Paul Hunter, ed. (3d ed., 1986) W. W. Norton & Company.
    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • ''I take a wolf's rib and whittle
    it sharp at both ends
    and coil it up
    and freeze it in blubber and place it out
    on the fairway of the bears.''
    Galway Kinnell (b. 1927), U.S. poet. The Bear (l. 9-13). . . Room for Me and a Mountain Lion; Poetry of Open Space. Nancy Larrick, comp. (1974) M. Evans and Company.
    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • ''the rest of my days I spend
    wandering: wondering
    what, anyway,
    was that sticky infusion, that rank flavor of blood, that
    poetry, by which I lived?''
    Galway Kinnell (b. 1927), U.S. poet. The Bear (l. 90-94). . . Room for Me and a Mountain Lion; Poetry of Open Space. Nancy Larrick, comp. (1974) M. Evans and Company.
    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • ''you in San Quentin,
    who wrote, "Being German my hero is Hitler,"
    instead of "Sincerely yours," at the end of long,
    neat-scripted letters demolishing
    the pre-Raphaelites:''
    Galway Kinnell (b. 1927), U.S. poet. The Correspondence School Instructor Says Goodbye to His Poetry Students (l. 9-13). . . New Oxford Book of American Verse, The. Richard Ellmann, ed. (1976) Oxford University Press.
    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.

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Daybreak

On the tidal mud, just before sunset,
dozens of starfishes
were creeping. It was
as though the mud were a sky
and enormous, imperfect stars
moved across it as slowly
as the actual stars cross heaven.
All at once they stopped,
and, as if they had simply

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