Outside the window
nothing but omnipotence

Peter Handke
tr. Michael Roloff


a poem is the manifestation of a poet’s silence.

words use the poet, not vice versa. for the poet is the sounding chamber of the poem, where the unheard poem never ceases to echo

true saying is only found by listening, by giving up one’s right to speak. such silence is rare, but never is it mute.

words are only as empty as the poet. the poem only ever as effective as the poet’s impotence.

vast, open, we all resound.

even milosz’s bullet sings.*

* The Polish poet Czeslaw Milosz told the story of how he was once caught in a crossfire. He ran for his life, but fell in the middle of the street. As bullets whizzed past, he remained lying face down fearing for his life. Suddenly a bullet smashed a cobblestone beside his head and he thought to himself, “Poetry cannot stop bullets.”


the curtains breathe with the light


…there is no salvation even in considering oneself a small animal.


three words on a brick wall
the world breaking
through the concrete below


The unnamable 
held you 
at a distance, in reverence.


not to make the weak strong
but rather to find the strength of the weak


There needs to be more poems written based on the very fear of human existence itself.

Tamura Ryuichi


Colour is the place where the mind and the universe meet.

Paul Cezanne


The minute one says one is happy, one isn’t anymore.

Pierre Bonnard


Anything in any way beautiful derives its beauty from itself and asks nothing beyond itself. Praise is no part of it, for nothing is made worse or better by praise.

Marcus Aurelius


Nothing one sees is not a flower, nothing one imagines is not the moon.

tr. David Barnhill


As machines become more and more efficient and perfect, so it will become clear that imperfection is the greatness of man.

Ernst Fischer


The sun and your heart are made of the same material.

Pierre Reverdy
tr. Kenneth Rexroth


Strip oneself of the imaginary royalty of the world.

Simone Weil


another being a specific direction


that things
are merely places
within the space
stretching between


poetry is not a literary activity directed toward the production of texts, but the most fundamental form of human relations.   (la poésie n’est pas une activité littéraire orientée vers la production de textes, mais la forme la plus fondamentale des rapports interhumains)

Yves Bonnefoy


The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.

Marcel Proust


suspending rope bridges from one cloud to another