Summary

Portrait of Richard Aldington Richard Aldington Some Imagist Poets, 1916: An Annual Anthology

Clear zig-zagging water which smells of tulips and narcissus.
The thickening branches make a pink “grisaille” against the blue sky.
Whoop! The clouds go dashing at each other and sheer away just in time. Whoop! And a man's hat careers down the street in front of the white dust, leaps into the branches of a tree, veers away and trundles ahead of the wind, jarring the sunlight into spokes of rose-colour and green.
A motor car cuts a swath through the bright air, sharp-beaked, irresistible, shouting to the wind to make way.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Richard Aldington Richard Aldington Some Imagist Poets, 1916: An Annual Anthology

As a French poet of distinction, Paul Fort, has said: “Prose and poetry are but one instrument, graduated.” It is not a question of typography; it is not even a question of rules and forms. Poetry is the vision in a man's soul which he translates as best he can with the means at his disposal.
We are young, we are experimentalists, but we ask to be judged by our own standards, not by those which have governed other men at other times.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Richard Aldington Richard Aldington Some Imagist Poets, 1916: An Annual Anthology

The day is new and fair with good smells in the air.
WALK
Over the street the white clouds meet, and sheer away without touching.
On the sidewalk boys are playing marbles. Glass marbles, with amber and blue hearts, roll together and part with a sweet clashing noise. The boys strike them with black and red striped agates. The glass marbles spit crimson when they are hit, and slip into the gutters under rushing brown water. I smell tulips and narcissus in the air, but there are no flowers anywhere, only white dust whipping up the street, and a girl with a gay spring hat and blowing skirts.
Source: Gutenberg

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