Charles Bukowski--Michael Marrotti
Robert Frost--Cindy Leino-Worrell
Gary Snyder--Michael Moses
Tell Us Your Favorite Poet
Email the name of your favorite poet and I'll post it here along with your name. Put in Subject line IWAP fav poet
Eugene Ruggles--Don Hagelberg
Emily Dickinson--Meryl Stratford
Walt Whitman-- John Arndt
T.S. Eliot--Eve Gaal
Dorianne Laux--Francine Witte
e.e. cummings--Eric Gruber
Allen Ginsberg--Leonard Cararra
John Keats--Michael Malach
Your Favorite Lines
Send us your favorite line from a poem, and we'll post it here
Put in Subject line IWAP fav line
Nations are destroyed, or flourish, in proportion as their poetry, painting, and music are destroyed or flourish!-- William Blake, Submitted by Jonathan Rose
In the dream i was
like zelda with 5
boys to choose from
a bee between many
flowers with phone
- Lyn Lifshin, Dream
Submitted by Daniel De Culla
What I want in my life is to be willing to be dazzled – to cast aside the weight of facts and maybe even to float a little above this difficult world…. I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing – that the light is everything …. And I do. --Mary Oliver
Submitted by Sally Naylor
A man comes this far without courage until he opens himself to find a door between two winds, facing a space that's draining, that he's come nowhere, and unable to close.
Submitted by Don Hagelberg
Must I stand out in thunder-storms again Who have twice come in from the cold?
-- Derek Mahon
Submitted by Patricia Whiting
I should have been a pair of ragged claws/Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
Submitted by Eve Gaal
Each man is a half-open door
leading to a room for everyone.
-- Thomas Tranströmer
Submitted by kerry rawlinson
The mind must set itself up
wherever it goes and it would
be most convenient to impose
its old rooms - just tack them up like an interior tent.
Submitted by Laura Pena
o little lost poet with/many fine doctors and one celestial pillow.
from "The Book of Madness" by David Fisher
Submitted by David Chorlton
Goodbye to the long-tire-black tarmac sweeping like rain down endless scalding cups of earliest fresh morning coffee.
-- Andrew Glaze
Submitted by Jonathan Rose
Forever -- is composed of Nows
-- Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Meryl Stratford
Tonight I write the saddest lines.
-- Pablo Neruda
Submitted by Barbra Nightingale
Do not allow it to freeze still, perceive the delicate rotation of the slightly titled earth.
-- Vladimir Nabokov
Submitted by Sebastian Taylor
History is written by assassins
-- David Kowalczyk
Submitted by David Kowalczyk
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
Submitted by Cynthia Brackett-Vincent
I sit before flowers hoping they will train me in the art of opening up.
-- Shane Koyczan
Submitted by Mariah E. Wilson
It is difficult to get the news from poems yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there
-- William Carlos Williams.
Submitted by Neil Silberblatt
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
-- Edgar Allen Poe
Submitted by Jonathan Rose
I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed & that necessary.
-- Margaret Atwood
Submitted by Janet Bohac