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She can be bluesy, she can tell stories, she can write small imagistic poems, and she can make you laugh out loud, something rare in a poet. She can be unapologetically Reto-Beat.
Well, she is a fun poet. In the best manner a poet can be. She is the kind of poet you could take your friend who had never been to a poetry reading, and they would have a blast hearing her perform. Perhaps she is who Lucille Ball would have been if Lucille Ball had been a poet and not a comedian. Buy this and take these poems and read them on street corners, share these poems at work, at the hospital, at the bus stop.
Here is a small lyrically prose poem, as much about sound and wit as anything: Christopher Bakken has been writing a spare eloquent formalist poem for decades. His formalism presents a deft combination of image and rhetoric with precise metrical maneuvers. He has one of the quietest and most precise ears in American poetry.
His poems often occur in rooms and the small intimate venues where people laugh, drink, love, and grieve. Like Gilbert, there is a sense off the expatriate in Bakken, as his heart even when home is over there, on a cobblestoned street, or walking with the goat herders on a Greek Isle. P Cavafy and Yannis Ritsos: Cavafy for his exploration and detail and use of the miasmic and labyrinthine Alexandrian streets he lived in; Ritsos for the politics and sense of time that informed his work.
I have known Karen Craigo for nearly 20 years now.
The author of two fine chapbooks this is her first full length collection. What is impressive about this book is it does not feel like a first collection, but like a third or fourth collection. There is a sure maturity to these poems. This book has received a number of positive reviews. In Cleaver magazine Shaun Turner wrote. In her powerful death sequence, Craigo shows such a deep and varied approach to the poem and its capacity for real, true emotional range and complexity. In addition, there is—dare I say for use of a better word—a holiness to these poems that rises from the body into a kind of light: Cheryl Dumesnil is one of those writers who writes slowly, chiseling out a small body of exquisite poems over the decades.
I went to graduate school at Syracuse University with her many years ago.
She was a year ahead of me and she was by far the best writer in our program. Her first book received the Agnes Lynch Starrett Prize. This is one of the books I blurbed and highly recommend: She offers us soaring birds, revolutions and plums. Odes to October, memoirs to tampons, sea snails and Tsunamis, air guitar with Eddie Van Halen, Ritalin and Pink Floyd and Facebook, a book hinged at the end of the last century and the beginning of this new bloody one. This is a book full of the love of women and sons, drag queens and last calls, and always the gospel of the body, and its constant prayer of falling.
You arrive at the lake, expecting to meet grief on the trail. Cormorants on the watchtower moan and tick, indifferent wings shrugged toward the sun. This whole forest depends on that felled tree rotting into home for salamander eggs, centipedes, six varieties of moss. Black phoebes rattle winter thistles, swollen throats percussing: I love to read the work of an older poet at the height of his powers. He is truly our North American Neruda. And like Neruda he shows a formal and investigative range that is unmatched.
But in Vivas to Those Who Failed he has surpassed himself.
There is something both archaic and futuristic in his poems at the same time. The title poem of the collection can be found here: Westaway By Ruth Ware. What is impressive about this book is it does not feel like a first collection, but like a third or fourth collection. Dianne Borsenik is a kind of Cleveland Poetry legend. She is the kind of poet you could take your friend who had never been to a poetry reading, and they would have a blast hearing her perform. This volume is an excellent place to begin that enterprise, to renew an old acquaintance with one of world literature's great voices, or to continue a lifelong interest in the phenomenon of literary genius.
The title comes from Walt Whitman and is the title for a cycle of sonnets on the Paterson Silk strike of Like Shahib Nye, who wrote some of her greatest poems about the death and life of her father, Espada offers some of his most moving poems in the ten poems on the death of his father Frank, who was a community organizer and a wonderful photographer. The micro detail and use of poetic image in this book is deft. The rest of you is rendered invisible. And I concur these are poems that reach a hand of verbs to lead us his readers and fellow citizens out of darkness and despair.
Espada is one of our best storyteller poets and these book is full of powerful narratives, that when collaged side by side, offer us a quilt of grief and gunpowder, a tapestry of resistance to study and learn from, to teach us how to survive and fight, like all those who failed before us, whose legacy will lead us to victory, during these oppressive times. The title poem of the collection can be found here: Conversational and musical in the same breath, Yao Glover writes poems that engage the political and social realities of this nation, of his family, and his Inheritance and what that means in all the personal and cultural significance of the term.
Mixing poems both lyrical and rhetorical he explores the intimate landscapes of who makes us who we are. A longtime book proprietor and former founder and owner of Karibu Books in DC, Yao is one of those cultural workers who has worked for decades too promoting others through his book space and online with his Afrocentric cultural blog Free Black Space. But more than anything Yao is a poet, giving us a kind of radical spiritualism, so necessary for these oppressive times: Les Kay is another one who has been slugging it out in the trenches of poetry for decades.
Since then he has gone on to graduate degrees and years living a precarious economic existence as an underpaid cultural worker in the academy and as a freelance writer. He is the author of two excellent chapbooks, one I blurbed is a long narrative poem titled Bad Ass. At Whatever Front is his very first full length collection and one worthy of much notice. In many ways this a book about working class men, and an investigation into constructions of masculinity. There is real engagement with the social and political realities of the world in this collection.
One of my favorites is this powerful portrait that opens the book: But here she goes to places in tone and depth of emotional range that I rarely see in the prose poem, as if she turns the sentences inside out to become lyric. With her surrealist leaps and bitterly ironic drenched lines, she seems more Eastern European than American. Relationships and narratives are implied within a lyric framework. It has been a long time since I read a book of poems that seems less about meaning and more about sound. No mouth to feed. No rope to hang from. The shock of me was an utter root, cruel in parts.
A torn god, sad as seasons.
I was made scarved. Nearly 20 years ago Sean Singer seemed destined to begin a vibrant and profitable literary career. He was publishing his miraculous and investigative poems in some of our finest journals. His poems, though they exhibited many of the so called elliptical facets of the time, and the exploratory moves, also showed a kind of street wise social awareness. His book Discography gathered together his first poems of music, jazz, and showed the promise of his deft ear.
It was like trying to explain later Coltrane to someone who only loved Kind of Blue. There is something both archaic and futuristic in his poems at the same time. So his second collection, despite such an auspicious literary debut, proved difficult to place.
When I first came upon his poems I felt a kinship immediately with this young gun. He seemed to fulfill perhaps the more exploratory notions in the long lined worked of later Lynda Hull. Perhaps Singer was writing the poems Hull might have written if she had lived, with her shared love of Jazz and urban landscape. And like an avant-garde Jazz musician, Singer often shows the seams of the making of the poem as a made-thing unfolding in real time.
He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in Check out the options available through Archway Publishing. See great eBook deals. Get book club recommendations, access to more 1, reading group guides, author updates, and more! Learn a language anytime, anywhere in just 30 minutes a day with Pimsleur. Get your free lesson today!
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Throughout his long life, William Butler Yeats -- Irish writer and premier lyric poet in English in this century -- produced important works in every literary genre, works of astonishing range, energy, erudition, beauty, and skill. His early poetry is memorable and moving. His poems and plays of middle age address the human condition with language that has entered our vocabulary for cataclysmic personal and world events. The writings of his final years offer wisdom, courage, humor, and sheer technical virtuosity.
Eliot pronounced Yeats "the greatest poet of our time -- certainly the greatest in this language, and so far as I am able to judge, in any language" and "one of the few whose history is the history of their own time, who are a part of the consciousness of an age which cannot be understood without them. It presents more than one hundred and fifty of his best-known poems -- more than any other compendium -- plus eight plays, a sampling of his prose tales, and excerpts from his published autobiographical and critical writings. In addition, an appendix offers six early texts of poems that Yeats later revised.
Also included are selections from the memoirs left unpublished at his death and complete introductions written for a projected collection that never came to fruition. These are supplemented by unobtrusive annotation and a chronology of the life. Yeats was a protean writer and thinker, and few writers so thoroughly reward a reader's efforts to essay the whole of their canon. This volume is an excellent place to begin that enterprise, to renew an old acquaintance with one of world literature's great voices, or to continue a lifelong interest in the phenomenon of literary genius.
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