The life of urge and instinct, that rages and coos, kicks and frolics, as it chooses only without choosing-- this life is the life the poem grows from, and leans toward. -Donald Hall
Information
- Location:
- Denver, CO
- Birthday:
- August 19
Notes
3 of 48 notesSee All
- Sonnet 8:49pm Dec 23
- On Hearing My Own Voice 9:22pm Dec 7
- The Coronation 5:36pm Nov 18
Whitney Testa I am old at heart.
gnaphalium.blogspot.com
How does the mountain speak, through tent of nightAn orator immobile with weight to bearThe age-old home for each thief's plightWhere fear and mice breed in the devil's lair.He casts a shadow not, in spite ...
Whitney Testa Visit gnaphalium.blogspot.com, I say!
Whitney Testa And all your deeds and words, each truth, each lie, die in unjudging love. (Dylan Thomas)
Whitney Testa "Wipe your hand across you mouth, and laugh; the worlds revolve like ancient women gathering fuel in vacant lots." - T.S. Eliot
Whitney Testa "Artists use lies to tell the truth." -V
gnaphalium.blogspot.com
I wish to boil youin your words, to shriekthe needles from the pine,to bask in vindicationderived from thisrotting inside me, butthere is always a fadingsong with your name on itand the truth of each lyric ...
Whitney Testa Just read an interview about improving your poetry that suggests the following: Get drunk and get into arguments, sleep with as many other poets as possible, listen to serious music, read philosophy, get a liberal arts education, and live in the world.
Whitney Testa I should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling across the floors of silent seas. (T.S. Eliot)
Whitney Testa Mere moments from restless sleep.
gnaphalium.blogspot.com
Hovering in the friendly darknessthe door clicks closed beyond her andscandalously, but without fearthey turn and turn closerin a nest of dizzying leavesin a cove of wandering eyesThrough the waves shecatches ...
Whitney Testa When the wind blows the water white and black. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea, by sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown, till human voices wake us, and we drown. (from "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, by T.S. Eliot)
gnaphalium.blogspot.com
Out of themurky docksa wily dying shadowhowlstangled in blackand aching forswift currents andthe voice of a womanHurriedly, she beckonsas her toestickle shellsand moss anewLove me on the sandour whispering ...
Whitney Testa Remembering and anticipating pure happiness.
gnaphalium.blogspot.com
Here where plastic peels, we fade in the altitude,The leather couch sliding across the wooden floor,The fire blue with love. I round the bend,A rocking groove serenades my sallow heart.Here, I live the ...
Whitney Testa Some new poems are on the way. In the meantime visit gnaphalium.blogspot.com
Whitney Testa "Only in time can the moment in the rose-garden, the moment in the arbour where the rain beat, the moment in the draughty church at smokefall be remembered; involved with past and future. Only through time time is conquered." - from Burnt Norton by T.S. Eliot
Whitney Testa "If we acknowledge the pleasure of the sensual body of the poem, we can see why painful poems are best: conflict makes energy and resolves our suffering into ambivalent living tissue." From Donald Hall's inspiring essay "Goatfoot, Milktongue, Twinbird"
RECENT ACTIVITY
Whitney Testa changed their Personal Information.
