I find that the thoughts spoken between the lines are the most important parts of a poem or story.
You are to me,
what wind is to dry leaves.
The reason for me to fall,
the reason for me to fly.
As a way of getting in touch with my origins
every night I set the alarm clock
for the time I was born so that waking up
becomes a historical reenactment and the first thing I do
You are in a country that comes and goes, where the people have been mistreated but rarely oppose. Borders have changed by rulers from afar, although sometimes closer than neighbourhoods are. Their religion is sacred and the heavens smile down, but the history they keep will lead you to frown…
And let me ask you this: the dead,
where aren’t they?
Be still my hand and let the words write themselves upon my heart. Be still my heart and let your pages be filled in silence.
Real haiku is the soul of poetry. Anything that is not actually present in one’s heart is not haiku. The moon glows, flowers bloom, insects cry, water flows. There is no place we cannot find flowers or think of the moon. This is the essence of haiku. Go beyond the restrictions of your era, forget about purpose or meaning, separate yourself from historical limitations-there you will find the essence of true art, religion, and science.
Had we but world enough, and time
Poets should be crazy-but only in their poems.
I have been right, Basil, haven’t I, to take my love out of poetry, and to find my wife in Shakespeare’s plays? Lips that Shakespeare taught to speak have whispered their secret in my ear. I have had the arms of Rosalind around me, and kissed Juliet on the mouth.