William Carlos Williams

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But the seawhich no one tendsis also a garden

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Writing is not a searching about in the daily experience for apt similes and pretty thoughts and images… It is not a conscious recording of the day’s experiences ‘freshly and with the appearance of reality’… The writer of imagination would find himself released from observing things for the purpose of writing them down later. He would be there to enjoy, to taste, to engage the free world, not a world which he carries like a bag of food, always fearful lest he drop something or someone get more than he

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unsignificantlyoff the coastthere wasa splash quite unnoticedthis was Icarus drowning

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We are blind and live our blind lives out in blindness. Poets are damned but they are not blind, they see with the eyes of the angels