John Ashbery Poems (…on writing)

Late Echo

by John Ashbery

Alone with our madness and favorite flower

We see that there really is nothing left to write about.

Or rather, it is necessary to write about the same old things

In the same way, repeating the same things over and over

For love to continue and be gradually different.

Beehives and ants have to be re-examined eternally

And the color of the day put in

Hundreds of times and varied from summer to winter

For it to get slowed down to the pace of an authentic

Saraband and huddle there, alive and resting.

Only then can the chronic inattention

Of our lives drape itself around us, conciliatory

And with one eye on those long tan plush shadows Read More

Czeslaw Milosz’s Poem on Writing

Ars Poetica?


I have always aspired to a more spacious form
that would be free from the claims of poetry or prose
and would let us understand each other without exposing
the author or reader to sublime agonies.

Read More

Robert Hass “Measure” (on writing)


Coppery light hesitates

again in the small-leaved

Japanese plum. Summer

and sunset, the peace

of the writing desk

and the habitual peace

of writing, these things

form an order I only

belong to in the idleness

of attention. Last light

rims the blue mountain Read More