“We'd all like to see our poems walking alone in the world. Like children reared to be independent adults. Some parents raise a child conservatively (that is, with no exposure to the darker things awaiting them beyond the door), but you can see how that's a mistake right? There's no way to know how best to prepare a child for the future. No way to know how to write a publishable poem -- I'm not saying safe poems don't get published. Or that sheltered children can't succeed. Just that you write the best poems you can and send them out. Sometimes they return home weeping. Sometimes they make their own way.”

“A poem is like a child; at some point we have to let it go and trust that it will make its own way in the world.”

“If you want to really hurt you parents, and you don't have the nerve to be gay, the least you can do is go into the arts. I'm not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possible can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”

“They're just people that write poems that get published and anthologized all over the place but they're not poets.”

“Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”

“This poem is the poem I'm writing becausewe aren't speaking, and it is making my heart hurtso bad that sometimes I can't make it up off the floor.”

“Style is not how you write.It is how you do not write like anyone else. * * *How do you know if you're a writer?Write something everyday for two weeks, then stop, if you can.If you can't, you're a writer.And no one, no matter how hard they may try,will ever be able to stop you from following your writing dreams. * * *You can find your writer's voiceby simply listening to that little Muse insidethat says in a low, soft whisper, "Listen to this... * * *Enter the writing processwith a childlike sense of wonder and discovery.Let it surprise you. * * *Poems for children help themcelebrate the joy and wonder of their world.Humorous poems tickle the funny bone of their imaginations. * * *There are many fine poets writing for children today.The greatest reward for each of us is in knowing that our effortsmight stir the minds and hearts of young readers with a visionand wonder of the world and themselves that may be new to themor reveal something already familiar in new and enlightening ways.* * * The path to inspiration startsBeyond the trails we’ve known;Each writer’s block is not a rock,But just a stepping stone. * * *When you write for children,don't write for children.Write from the child in you. * * *Poems look at the world from the inside out. * * *The act of writing brings with it a sense of discovery,of discovering on the page something you didn't know you knewuntil you wrote it. * * * The answer to the artistComes quicker than a blinkThough initial inspirationIs not what you might think. The Muse is full of magic,Though her vision’s sometimes dim;The artist does not choose the work,It is the work that chooses him. * * *Poem-Making 101.Poetry shows. Prose tells.Choose precise, concrete words.Remove prose from your poems.Use images that evoke the senses.Avoid the abstract, the verbose, the overstated.Trust the poem to take you where it wants to go.Follow it closely, recording its path with imagery. * * *What's a Poem? A whisper, a shout,thoughts turnedinside out. A laugh,a sigh,an echopassing by. A rhythm,a rhyme,a momentcaught in time. A moon,a star,a glimpseof who you are. * * * A poem is a little pathThat leads you through the trees.It takes you to the cliffs and shores,To anywhere you please. Follow it and trust your wayWith mind and heart as one,And when the journey’s over,You’ll find you’ve just begun. * * * A poem is a spider webSpun with words of wonder,Woven lace held in placeBy whispers made of thunder. * * * A poem is a busy beeBuzzing in your head.His hive is full of hidden thoughtsWaiting to be said. His honey comes from your ideasThat he makes into rhyme.He flies around looking forWhat goes on in your mind. When it is time to let him outTo make some poetry,He gathers up your secret thoughtsAnd then he sets them free.”