Anna Kamienska Quotes
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I am that which lies beyond time. Like a melody, which sounds completely only after the last note is played.
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This morning I suddenly catch myself: I'm not there, I'm so lost in thought, I don't know what's going on around me. Can you think yourself to death?
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I write in order to comprehend, not to express myself.
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I have no talent. I write poems for myself, to think things through, that’s all.
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Tell me what's the difference
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My poems are more my silence than my speech. Just as music is a kind of quiet. Sounds are needed only to unveil the various layers of silence.
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Even a painful longing is some form of presence.
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We cling to words like drowning men to straws. But still we drown, we drown.
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Writing down your thoughts is both necessary and harmful. It leads to eccentricity, narcissism, preserves what should be let go. On the other hand, these notes intensify the inner life, which, left unexpressed, slips through your fingers. If only I could find a better kind of journal, humbler, one that would preserve the same thoughts, the same flesh of life, which is worth saving.
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Letters of the condemned. Last words scratched on a cell’s wall. To write like that.
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The way a source strains toward the light, toward the air. Its laboring work, its effort, its black passageways like despair. That’s the way a poet looks for words. With muscles, gestures.
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Where your pain is, there your heart lies also.
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Tell me what’s the difference between hope and waiting because my heart doesn’t know It constantly cuts itself on the glass of waiting It constantly gets lost in the fog of hope
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I’ve learned to value failed conversations, missed connections, confusions. What remains is what’s unsaid, what’s underneath. Understanding on another level of being.
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I returned to confirm there can be no return.
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I’m moved by everything broken and crippled. Since that’s how we really are.
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There are things better left untouched by words.
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I don’t write poetry when I wish, I write when I can’t, when my larynx is flooded and my throat is shut.
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Poetry is a presentiment of the truth.
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Related Authors
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Dylan Thomas Poet -
Jane Hirshfield Poet -
Virgil Poet -
John Donne Poet -
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Horace Poet