Poetry is eternal graffiti in the heart of everyone.
A poem is a mirror walking down a strange street full of visual delight.
Poetry is the shook foil of the imagination; it should shine out and half blind you.
It is the sun streaming down in the meshes of the morning.
It is white nights and mouths of desire.
It is a tree with live leaves made from log piles of words.
A poem should arise to ecstasy somewhere between speech and song.

~ Excerpt of Americus, Book I by Lawrence Ferlinghetti.


Brussels, July 2006

This post was inspired by Christine who recently had a poem and picture that I really enjoyed. I found this Ferlinghetti poem plus a wonderful interview of the poet in the latest edition of Poets & Writers Magazine.

  1. April 6, 2007
  2. April 6, 2007
  3. April 6, 2007
  4. April 6, 2007
  5. April 6, 2007
  6. April 7, 2007
  7. April 8, 2007
  8. April 9, 2007
  9. April 9, 2007