James Dickey
James Dickey
James Lafayette Dickeywas an American poet and novelist. He was appointed the eighteenth United States Poet Laureate in 1966. He also received the Order of the South award. Dickey was also a novelist, known for Deliverancewhich was adapted into an acclaimed film of the same name...
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth2 February 1923
CityAtlanta, GA
bicycle drunk forever highway motorcycle mouth power soul speed wild wind
And I to my motorcycle Parked like the soul of the junkyard Restored, a bicycle fleshed With power, and tore off Up Highway 106 continually Drunk on the wind in my mouth Wringing the handlebar for speed Wild to be wreckage forever
american-novelist
I want you all to stand; will you do that for me, please?
moon views rivers
What a view, i said again. The river was blank and mindless with beauty. It was the most glorious thing I have ever seen. But it was not seeing, really. For once it was not just seeing. It was beholding. I beheld the river in its icy pit of brightness, in its far-below sound and indifference, in its large coil and tiny points and flashes of the moon, in its long sinuous form, in its uncomprehending consequence.
couple writing trying
It takes an awful lot of time for me to write anything. I have endless drafts, one after another; and I try out 50, 75, or a hundred variations on a single line sometimes. I work on the process of refining low-grade ore. I get maybe a couple of nu ggets of gold out of 50 tons of dirt. It is tough for me. No, I am not inspired.
unique literature mixtures
The women of the South have brought into American literature a unique mixture of domesticity and grotesquerie.
self creative persons
There are so many selves in everybody, and just to explore and exploit one is wrong, dead wrong, for the creative person.
world kind possession
Poetry makes possible the deepest kind of personal possession of the world.
sex feelings intimacy
The true feeling of sex is that of a deep intimacy, but above all of a deep complicity....
suicide frustration artist
We've always had a tradition in America of hounding our artists to death. Look at the list of our great artists, you see a continual history of defeat, frustration, poverty, alcoholism, drug addiction. The best poets of my generation are all suicides.
tired kind
There ain't nothin' to dyin', really. You just get tired. You kind of drift away.
editors our-time
William Packard surely must be one of the great editors of our time.
want dueling welcome
I want you to hear a new version of Dueling Banjos. Anyone else is welcome.
want fever quiet
I want a fever, in poetry: a fever, and tranquillity.
want failing willing
What I want is to be willing to fail rather than stagnate.