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Conrad Aiken

Conrad Aiken

Conrad Aiken was an influential American writer and poet, recognized for his diverse contributions to literature, which included poetry, short stories, novels, and literary criticism. Born in 1889, Aiken's literary career spanned several decades, during which he garnered significant acclaim, including a Pulitzer Prize and a National Book Award. He served as the United States Poet Laureate from 1950 to 1952, further solidifying his status in the literary community. Aiken's works often explored themes of consciousness and the human experience, reflecting his interest in psychology and philosophy. Among his notable works are the poetry collections 'Selected Poems' and 'The Dark Kingdom,' as well as his novel 'Great Circle.' His writing is characterized by its innovative use of form and language, which contributed to the evolution of modernist poetry. Aiken's ability to blend narrative and lyrical elements set him apart from his contemporaries, influencing future generations of poets and writers. His legacy endures through his contributions to American literature and his role in shaping the poetic landscape of the 20th century.

Wikipedia

Conrad Potter Aiken (August 5, 1889 – August 17, 1973) was an American writer and poet, honored with a Pulitzer Prize an...

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Famous Quotes

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“It's time to make love, douse the glim; The fireflies twinkle and dim; The stars lean together Like birds of a feather, And the loin lies down with the limb.”

“Death is never an ending, death is a change; Death is beautiful, for death is strange; Death is one dream out of another flowing.”

“It is moonlight. Alone in the silence I ascend my stairs once more, While waves remote in pale blue starlight Crash on a white sand shore. It is moonlight. The garden is silent. I stand in my room alone. Across my wall, from the far-off moon, A rain of fire is thrown. There are houses hanging above the stars, And stars hung under the sea, And a wind from the long blue vault of time Waves my curtains for me. I wait in the dark once more, swung between space and space: Before the mirror I lift my hands And face my remembered face.”

“It's time to make love, douse the glim; The fireflies twinkle and dim; The stars lean together Like birds of a feather, And the loin lies down with the limb.”

“Death is never an ending, death is a change; Death is beautiful, for death is strange; Death is one dream out of another flowing.”

“It is moonlight. Alone in the silence I ascend my stairs once more, While waves remote in pale blue starlight Crash on a white sand shore. It is moonlight. The garden is silent. I stand in my room alone. Across my wall, from the far-off moon, A rain of fire is thrown. There are houses hanging above the stars, And stars hung under the sea, And a wind from the long blue vault of time Waves my curtains for me. I wait in the dark once more, swung between space and space: Before the mirror I lift my hands And face my remembered face.”

Books from the author

The House of Dust: A Symphony

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