Jack Spicer Poetry Poems

  • 1.
    What can I say to you, darling,
    When you ask me for help?
    I do not even know the future
    Or even what poetry
    ...
  • 2.
    Dear Lorca,

    These letters are to be as temporary as our poetry is to be permanent. They will establish the bulk, the wastage that my sour-stomached contemporaries demand to help them swallow and digest the pure word. We will use up our rhetoric here so that it will not appear in our poems. Let it be consumed paragraph by paragraph, day by day, until nothing of it is left in our poetry and nothing of our poetry is left in it. It is precisely because these letters are unnecessary that they must be written.
    In my last letter I spoke of the tradition. The fools that read these letters will think by this we mean what tradition seems to have meant latelyâ??an historical patchwork (whether made up of Elizabethan quotations, guide books of the poetâ??s home town, or obscure bits of magic published by Pantheon) which is used to cover up the nakedness of the bare word. Tradition means much more than that. It means generations of different poets in different countries patiently telling the same story, writing the same poem, gaining and losing something with each transformationâ??but, of course, never really losing anything. This has nothing to do with calmness, classicism, temperament, or anything else. Invention is merely the enemy of poetry.
    ...
  • 3.
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    };


    ...
  • 4.
    Coming at an end, the lovers
    Are exhausted like two swimmers. Where
    Did it end? There is no telling. No love is
    Like an ocean with the dizzy procession of the waves' boundaries
    ...
  • 5.
    This ocean, humiliating in its disguises
    Tougher than anything.
    No one listens to poetry. The ocean
    Does not mean to be listened to. A drop
    ...
Total 5 Poetry Poems by Jack Spicer

Top 10 most used topics by Jack Spicer

Love 8 I Love You 8 Water 7 Night 5 Poetry 5 Ocean 5 People 4 Blue 4 Good 4 Heart 4

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Poem of the day

John Keats Poem
Sonnet Xvi. To Kosciusko
 by John Keats

Good Kosciusko, thy great name alone
Is a full harvest whence to reap high feeling;
It comes upon us like the glorious pealing
Of the wide spheres -- an everlasting tone.
And now it tells me, that in worlds unknown,
The names of heroes, burst from clouds concealing,
And changed to harmonies, for ever stealing
Through cloudless blue, and round each silver throne.
...

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