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By AnonymRon Padgett
Almost everything that's happened in my poetry is what you might call organic. I don't do much preconceiving. The only consistent plan I've ever had is to try to break my patterns, my habits, my kneejerk tendencies in writing. If I start to sound too much like the Ron Padgett that I've read before, I stop myself. I don't want to get locked perpetually in a mode or a level of diction or a stylistic vein - what is called a poetic voice.
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By AnonymRon Padgett
I don't do much of anything consciously in writing - in poetry writing, anyway, prose usually being a different matter, of course.
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By AnonymRon Padgett
It is not easy writing someone a postcard. The size and shape of the card cut you down to size.
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By AnonymRon Padgett
It seems more than likely that the translating of poetry is going to rub off on the translator if he or she is a poet.
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By AnonymRon Padgett
It's fun to have a crush on somebody, even one that lasts only fifteen seconds. In New York I can go down the street and have a crush on somebody coming toward me, and then she walks by and the crush disappears. It's quite pleasant.
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By AnonymRon Padgett
I've been working on a collection of prose vignettes about girls I've had crushes on, from the age of six to the age of eighteen. This manuscript is thematic and organized in a way my poems about my friends aren't. My friends get into the poems simply because they mean a lot to me.
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By AnonymRon Padgett
Maybe lurking in my unconscious was the idea that when someone's collected poems are published it means that the poet is dead. I found myself looking at my work as if I were at my own funeral.
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By AnonymRon Padgett
Part of the pleasure of giving a reading comes from the rapport between the audience and the poet. I don't want to get mystical here, but there's an energy flow that begins with the poet, and the energy goes out to the audience, and they're energized, and then they return that energy to the poet. As someone standing up there alone, facing these people, I can feel that rapport (or its absence).
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By AnonymRon Padgett
Take care of things close to home first. Straighten up your room before you save the world. Then save the world.
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By AnonymRon Padgett
Working with artists and other poets has made me aware that there was a bigger "me" that I hadn't been quite aware of. Plus we had a good time. It's so much fun to write, for example, with a big brush on a giant piece of paper and to help create visually attractive and surprising objects, which is not what you normally do when you're writing a poem. It's wonderful to create these pieces with artists.
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By AnonymRon Padgett
99 percent of every beautiful thing you ever knew escaped and went back out into the world where you vaguely remembered it.
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By AnonymRon Padgett
Another One' When you’re a child you learn there are three dimensions Height, width and depth Like a shoebox Then later you hear there’s a fourth dimension Time Hmm Then some say there can be five, six, seven… I knock off work Have a beer at the bar I look down at the glass and feel glad. 'Poem' I’m in the house It’s nice out Warm Sun on cold snow First day of spring Or last day of winter My legs run up the stairs And out the door My top half here writing.
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By AnonymRon Padgett
Love Poem We have plenty of matches in our house We keep them on hand always Currently our favourite brand Is Ohio Blue Tip Though we used to prefer Diamond Brand That was before we discovered Ohio Blue Tip matches They are excellently packaged Sturdy little boxes With dark and light blue and white labels With words lettered In the shape of a megaphone As if to say even louder to the world Here is the most beautiful match in the world It’s one-and-a-half-inch soft pine stem Capped by a grainy dark purple head So sober and furious and stubbornly ready To burst into flame Lighting, perhaps the cigarette of the woman you love For the first time And it was never really the same after thatAll this will we give you That is what you gave me I become the cigarette and you the match Or I the match and you the cigarette Blazing with kisses that smoulder towards heaven.
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