Poems Books

A poem from this book was TWICE featured on Writers Almanac and read by Garrison Keillor, Oct 17, 2003 and Oct 17, 2004. Check the archives link at lower left at www.writersalmanac.com to hear Keillor read the poem.

Sara King's style is evident in all of these poems. While there are obvious strong pieces, there are several that should not have been included in this collection.

Any description that I could plot down with letters would not equal the range of emotion reached by Sara King's metaphors. Therefore, I will not try. I will urge you, however, to read the "Laundry" poem and you will agree with me. (I heard this poem via Garrison's Keillor's Writers Almanac program on NPR.)

I will admit that I did not, indeed, purchase a copy of this book--I read the complete text via the Publisher's Web site, but believe me: this is worth buying. I intend to order my copy this week.

Allan St. James
Bowling Green, KY
Author of Banner

I think of these poems as sharp arrows that hit their target. Perhaps because so many are addressed to "you" I think of them as zooming through the air to some ONE, to some PLACE. They are zingers. Full of experience. King knows what's up and doesn't spare words....though she uses words sparingly. There's plenty of regret but no self-pity. Her voice is her own. The real thing. You will be glad you bought her book.

For a long time recently, I felt as if I were sleep walking through life, with my soul outside my body (choosing perhaps to live in the poetry section of Amazon.com or somewhere equally exotic....) and then I picked up this book of poems. I laughed, cried and sighed and I nodded my head with each poem I read and felt my soul come back to me......The magic of words!

Two of my favorites are "Finding Your Wife Was a Lesbian" (the last stanza is poetry at it's finest) and "The Clean House" (as a cat owner and wife of a "Mr. Clean", I wanted to frame this one....)

It's always exciting to discover a new poet, especially one whose poems you feel as if you could've written yourself. Such are the poems of Sara King. I highly recommend this book to all poetry lovers, women especially...it's on my keeper shelf.

Sara King is so insightful and fearless in her examination of the full range of modern love. One can feel her heart race at the thought of full surrender to a love while at the same time her ear is cocked for the first sign of withdrawal. Her ability to balance on the knife blade between hope and despair is extraordinary. Her sense of romance is almost medieval in that there is always a yearning for a love that reality can never assuage or fulfill. Always some twisting and pulling away -- a recognition that this will end and not be remembered. Her imagery is fresh and immediate -- like an early spring with an unexpected frost. It is a particularly poignant book for those who are recovering from a disappointing love, because it also carries the ring of truth and therefore hope. Her work reminds me of ee cummings. Highly recommended.

Pulitzer prize winning poet-naturalist Maxine Kumin chronicles a period of nine months, from the horrible horse-and-carriage accident that left her with a 5% chance of survival, and an even tinier prospect of ever walking again, to the time she is once again able to scramble up steep hills on her farm in New Hampshire again, albeit with difficulty. Hers is a statistically improbable recovery brought about not just by discipline and determination, and certainly not by faith (she is an atheist), but by love -- her family's love of her, and her own love not just for husband, children and grandchildren, but for horses, dogs, birds, vegetable garden, the seasons, and above all art and her craft. A passionate biophiliac, Kumin's love of nature can not be separated from her love of others, or her will to survive. This is an inpsirational book at so many levels. I completed it within hours of getting my hands on it, with my husband (a medical doctor) urging me to keep going, because I was reading it out loud to him and to my thirteen year old son. Inside the Halo... is wise, upbeat, gorgeously written and utterly inspirational. Someone you know scheduled for an operation? Had an accident? Run into some discouraging news? Forget the card. Send this book.

Maxine Kumin has given us a gift. "Illness, disability, the specter of permanent damage... are deeply personal, immediate, and terrifying," she writes. Indeed. This chronicle of recovery from a cervical spinal injury sustained after her horse bolted is a courageous foray through the intense first ten months of recovery.

More than a story of pluck and resilience this book delivers joy in its reaffirmation of what nourishes us: loving relationships. Relationships with husband, son, daughters, and friends--both old and newly formed in recovery-- and relationships to the land, to its bounty. It seems impossible for someone so connected to life to ever give up on it easily. Kumin narrates, in journal form, her struggles and how she didn't quit.

Kumin's life unfolds in this book. We see the stoic formed when her adored father "hovered in the doorway" when she was ill as a child; the horse lover who takes "deep pleasure" in seeing her horses in action; the gardener describing cauliflower and broccoli lovingly planted in May from seeds started on living room windowsills; and the poet who says of her farmhouse, "All of my doors are held open by stones."

The mother and wife are here, too. Kumin's daughter, Judith, spends months with her mother. It is comforting to read of a supportive, caring, daughter/mother relationship that flourishes during a time of great stress. Kumin is not afraid to tell us about moments of guilt and despair: "How I feel about my accident is quite simply that I screwed up everybody's life by living through it."

All this is written within a flowing narrative style that is groomed by this writer's cumulative knowledge of what is important in language and life.

Maxine Kumin is one of my favorite poets. I cheered when this well-paced chronicle led to a spring when this writer was finally back in the "peaceful kingdom" of her farm in New Hampshire. I am grateful the author has offered a book that allows us to witness her struggle as she looked inward and reached out.

Like many of Maxine Kumin's devoted reader/fan/friends, I came to her poetry through Anne Sexton's poetry/life.

However, as wonderful as Sexton's poetry is, and I love Anne Sexton's poetry, Maxine Kumin's poetry and prose can well stand on its own considerable merits.

Inside The Halo is a wonderful, gutsy, thoughtful book.

Having had some "orthopedic trauma" myself, though nowhere as severe as the accident Kumin survived, I can attest to the abundant truth she tells about the frustrations and joys of rehabilitation, and the "tough tenderness" of the best therapists.

Kumin also speaks movingly of how her amazing husband, children, and grandchildren rallied to see her through.

This is a difficult book to write about, because words like "uplifting" have become debased with casual use.

However, I am of the unshakable opinion that all doctors, nurses, therapists, and lovers of great writing would find something real in this fine book.

Putting thoughts into words is the salvation of many, particularly Maxine Kumin, who describes her recovery from paralysis in "Inside the Halo and Beyond." I was recently paralyzed myself, so I keenly identified with the account of her rehabilitation. Yet I felt pangs of jealousy because she walks again and the chances are nil this will happen to me.

Still, this book deserves an all-star rating for Kumin's eloquent and starkly honest description of her connections to poetry, literature, current events, international suffering, nature, equestrian riches, gardening, familial and friendly relations. She evokes empapthy and compassion without resorting to sappy sentiment or references to God. She explains, "My agnosticism eroded eventually to the skeletal remains of atheism and there I still stand. I'm not sure whether I should envy or pity the faith of others. Yes, it would be nice to have, but it seems a luxury of pietism I cannot afford."

Her love of words is eloquent: "I've always been a galloping reader, racing for information, hurtling past intervening advertisements or cartoons, breathless and fascinated with language."

It's a fine book.

Maxine Kumin has given us a gift. "Illness, disability, the specter of permanent damage... are deeply personal, immediate, and terrifying," she writes. Indeed. This chronicle of recovery from a cervical spinal injury sustained after her horse bolted is a courageous foray through the intense first ten months of recovery.

More than a story of pluck and resilience this book delivers joy in its reaffirmation of what nourishes us: loving relationships. Relationships with husband, son, daughters, and friends--both old and newly formed in recovery-- and relationships to the land, to its bounty. It seems impossible for someone so connected to life to ever give up on it easily. Kumin narrates, in journal form, her struggles and how she didn't quit.

Kumin's life unfolds in this book. We see the stoic formed when her adored father "hovered in the doorway" when she was ill as a child; the horse lover who takes "deep pleasure" in seeing her horses in action; the gardener describing cauliflower and broccoli lovingly planted in May from seeds started on living room windowsills; and the poet who says of her farmhouse, "All of my doors are held open by stones."

The mother and wife are here, too. Kumin's daughter, Judith, spends months with her mother. It is comforting to read of a supportive, caring, daughter/mother relationship that flourishes during a time of great stress. Kumin is not afraid to tell us about moments of guilt and despair: "How I feel about my accident is quite simply that I screwed up everybody's life by living through it."

All this is written within a flowing narrative style that is groomed by this writer's cumulative knowledge of what is important in language and life.

Maxine Kumin is one of my favorite poets. I cheered when this well-paced chronicle lead to a spring when this writer was finally back in the "peaceful kingdom" of her farm in New Hampshire. I am grateful the author has offered a book that allows us to witness her struggle as she looked inward and reached out.

Got this one for my 4th grader. She loved it and telling me that this is a great one for the kids of her age ( 9 Yrs. ) who love funny poems.
thanks.

Kids Pick the Funniest Poems
Selected by Bruce Lansky

This review is written by Caleb
(Age 9.)Stockbridge Central School (5 stars.)

There are a lot of various poets in this book, I can't name them all of them, but I can tell you two of them are great! My #1 favorite poem is "Help Wanted" by Timothy Tocher. The poem is about Santa needing new reindeer. The first bunch has grown old and has problems like arthritis and not liking the cold. My #2 favorite poem is "The Student's Prayer" by Kalli Dakos. I think it is funny for a kid to pray to pass tomorrows test. I recommend this book kids who like humorous poems!!!!

Kids Pick the Funniest Poems
Selected by Bruce Lansky

This review is written by Caleb
(Age 9.)Stockbridge Central School (5 stars.)

There are a lot of various poets in this book, I can't name them all of them, but I can tell you two of them are great! My #1 favorite poem is "Help Wanted" by Timothy Tocher. The poem is about Santa needing new reindeer. The first bunch has grown old and has problems like arthritis and not liking the cold. My #2 favorite poem is "The Student's Prayer" by Kalli Dakos. I think it is funny for a kid to pray to pass tomorrows test. I recommend this book kids who like humorous poems!!!!

This collection of poetry should be in every elementary classroom and should be read aloud to the students. This book has never failed to help me get the attention of my students, they like it and I like it too. This book covers many subjects kids need to address in school and in life.

As a No.1 fan of Bruce lansky, I LOVE this book. the poems in it was not only funny and humorous, but also very inspiring. Unfortunately, I am not able to purchase such a book as there aren't any copies in Hong Kong except in the library in the city. I hoe that there will be more of your books sent to Hong Kong so as to let more of us Hong Kong people to know more about you and enjoy the joy of reading poetry!

I had the chance to meet Joe the Autumn before his death in a classroom at Western Kentucky University. He had the amazing gift of seducing an entire room with his reading, and helping the rest of us become better poets. Breckenridge County Suite hit the nail so clearly on the head of what it was to grow up in the South, that despite the construction, remains partially frozen in memory. I wonder, mostly for selfish reasons, what greatness he could have achieved were he still alive.

What is so notable about Joe Bolton is the superb level of craft, style and especially intensity - which he wrote by the age of 28. In a style close to, but not mimicking, James Wright, he looked at his place of birth and every place he ever lived (which included Miami, Houston and Tuscon) and drew out all the despair and futility. It is as if his poems soaked all the dread and death and took ownership of it, not simply writing about such subjects, but being them.

The work is haunting and beautiful. This is an essential book for poets/readers who love the harsh and beautiful light of Raymond Carver or the lyric beauty of classic poetry. A tragedy he's not here to write more. I attended the same MFA program as the writer. He had an affect on the entire program for years.

This is how words should be used. Beautiful. Seductive. Lyrical. Bleak, and underneathh all that, a celebration of (or a yearning for) simplicity. A numinousity emanates from Bolton's work. His verse is intimate, intensely beautiful, whole -- and yes, it will last. He was by far the best of the young poets of his time.

Whenever I think I don't have any more poems to write, I turn to Joe. He found the rational in the irrational, the sane in the insane. He made everything real. Every normalcy was overturned for me because of him. His need to examine what is right in front of our eyes was extremely... EXTREME. I'm just so sad I never had the opportunity to meet him.

Calvocoressi's voice is American in the purest, most evocative sense. The Last Time I Saw Ameila Earhart is a textured mediation on loss & the act of living in its wake- in it the historical is the personal. Its beauty, its certainty, derives from the holiness of the poet's affections, the truth of her exquisite imagination. Read it & be (for a moment) whole beyond all confusion.

A fan of Mary Oliver, Sharon Olds, Pablo Neruda, Anne Carson, & C.D. Wright, among others, this was one of the most astounding collections of poetry I have ever read. Please read and support this wonderful poet!

Gabrielle Calvocoressi is currently a Jones Lecturer in poetry at Stanford University (where she was previously a Wallace Stegner Fellow). Her poetry has been published in a number of important literary journals. The Last Time I Saw Amelia Earhart is a compilation of some of her best work to date and gives voice to the hope and heartbreak of contemporary rural and small-town American. Graves We Filled Before the Fire: Some lose children in lonelier ways:/tetanus, hard falls, stubborn fevers//that soak the bedclothes five nights running./Our two boys went out to skate, broke//through the ice like battleships, came back/to us in canvas bags; curled//fossils held fast in ancient stone,/four hands reaching. Then two//sad beds wide enough for planting/wheat or summer-squash but filled//with boys, a barren crop. Our lives/stripped clean as oxen bones.

Gabrielle Calvocoressi's poems sweep up behind us like the 1944 Hartford circus fire she writes about in them. Everyone in the big tent, women and children mostly, it being 1944 - is having a marvelous time, la, la, la. The acrobats are "an entire family / suspended from a miniature porch swing." What could go wrong? They're just like us, only tiny. Then wham! In seconds the tent is engulfed in flames. Hundreds have died, leaving "Our lives / stripped clean as oxen bones." Hartford citizens remember that fire to this day, and this book has a similarly stubborn effect. Its poems are full of porch swings and oxen bones, images ordinary Americans might reach for to describe extraordinary events. The humility of the images, together with Calvocoressi's ventriloquism, is what gives them their powerful stealth. We don't read about so much as overhear her large cast of characters - a big tent for a short book - grapple with problems of memory: how to express it, how to explain it, how to live with it, and how to live by it. The poet gets out of the way of her poems, freely admits "Having Never Been to Gettysburg," and lets "Sedge grass, Little Bluestem, Bristlecone Pine / (O if this were the worst of it)" be "Not me, that insatiable lyric, darkening / The doorway of small town beauty / Parlours." Enter those incognito temples with your hat off, big tip in hand (her characters could use the money) and due respect.

I'm an 11th and 12th grade English teacher who loved the book so much, I dropped a couple poems into my American Literature Curriculum during a Modern Poetry Unit. The kids have responded well, particularly to "Circus Fire, 1944," and some even made the choice to focus on a few of the poems for their poetry presentations. The nature of Calvocoressi's poetry is perfect for class due to the mix of stark, forceful imagery and thematic complexity. In other words, the poems are accessible, yet still allow for complex and engaging classroom discussions/disagreements - certainly no mean feat.

Bill Knott is a great poet. His mind is just so zany. One of my favorite lines of his is "A comma is a period which leaks."

Every Bill Knott book I have read as been a liberating experience for me. He continues to redefine the "rules" of poetry. And puzzlingly, not many people have heard of him. Those who have read his work, always swear by it. I have yet to meet someone who had something bad to say about Knott's poetry. Unfortunately for all of us, almost all of his books are out of print. However, there are enough gems collected in this edition to illuminate your perception of poetry, and to turn you on to him for life--perhaps leaving you, like me, scrambling to buy his out-of-print works for rediculous prices.

Even Robert Pinsky says so, and, yet, astoundingly, every time I mention this man's name in mixed, literate company, people scratch their heads.

I'd like to respond to the accusation in the above PW review that his work "bleeds into inanity..." Maybe there's some truth in that, but so what? I find it both comforting and refreshing that words like "warty-poo" crop up in Knott's work. It's nice that in a medium that's so often sobre and bloated with self importance that there's someone out there who seems to be having FUN, for cripe's sake. These "inane" words and phrases add a little childish delight. What other poet will leave you moaning with heart break on one page and giggling with pleasure on the next.

I can't understand why more people who consider themselves "well-read" aren't familiar with Knott. I'm not well-read, and I've read all his books. What's your excuse? Huh?

Just buy it! Don't ask questions. Buy everything that Knott has written. Read them all. When you're done, buy everything that James Tate has written. Read them all. If you've not run out of time, re-read them all. Then quit and think about things for a while.

This collection of poems includes some of Knott's greatest works, including many poems I hadn't read before. To any Bill Knott fans, this is a must have. And to anyone unfamiliar with his poetry, you should immediately check it out; it is a very unique combination of formalism, surrealism and futurism. These isms don't quite cover it, however. He seems to be looking at the entire English lexicon, from ultra-modern slang to archaicisms, when he composes his poems, choosing fresh and surprising combinations of words to fill every line.

Some of the best works in the book are his sonnets. (In the future I would love to see a collection of just his sonnets.) I didn't count them, but there are more than twenty sonnets in the collection and each is excellent. Knott uses the form of (usually) the Petrachan sonnet to make entirely fresh and moving poems again and again. One of the most impressive and entertaining of his sonnets is, "The Sonnet in ix" (which was first published, I believe, in an earlier, truly excellent, Bill Knott BOA edition book entitled, "The Quicken Tree"). The poem is a translation/parody of the Mallerme sonnet. Knott shows off his linguistic prowess by rhyming every line with "ix" without in anyway compromising the poem. It is a feat of shear brilliance.

Congrats to Bill Knott on a great collection of poetry and thank you to BOA for publishing it.

BUY THIS BOOK!

These intense and lovely poems explore a full range of human experience from relationships with family, lovers and friends, to wild and domestic creatures, the universe and eternity itself. Some poems are beautifully and sparcely constructed, hewn to an essence of sensibility and perception. Others are loquacious meditations on a range of motifs with surprising and innovative juxtapositions. They move from directly personal, observed experience to the enigmatic and universal. All are engaging, often gripping, sometimes painful, as art should be. The author is also a gifted and accomplished visual artist; it seems equally, if not more extraordinary, for such depth of feeling, observations and experience to be verbally articulated as they are visually in her unique and beautiful paintings.

I was stunned by the beauty of your book, and having read Norman Corwin's review, I can only echo his aptly-put assessment. Thank you so much.

The poems in Layered Horizons are the work of a serious artist whose views allow the reader to expand his or her world view and return safely despite many powerful images that sometimes shake the reader's dream world.

The collection spans almost 1/2 century in the life of the writer and is extremely varied in content and style. It seems that early childhood memories of world war 2 have deeply affected the writer who makes reference, sometimes obliquely, to those youthful fears that are reexperienced from the perspective of a mature poet.

It is inherent in poetry that the most intimate parts of the artist's psyche are laid bare. de Miranda, even in her seemingly lighter content poems invites us to share a great range of her feelings, not just "perceptions" and that is what constitutes her art.

Dear Yvonne
You write with great power and have lost none of your literary cunning. You are an artist to your finger-and toe-tips, with a heart as big as Asia and Africa combined. [5.22.05 referring to the unpublished manuscript]

LAYERED HORIZONS is in my hands and eyes and head. It is a work of which you should be proud. I am imbibing it slowly, the way a small kid eats ice cream. Already I like "the brain reeling with erratic needs" and "voices caught in wires" and "puffed with gluttony's reward" and "frantic rain" and "going in three directions like a derailed train", ....and much more, I am sure, to come.

(...)

This newly published, but seasoned poet, has a wide range of excellence. The poems are full of rich and startlingly beautiful, if sometimes painful images, and the content varies over a period of several decades including subject matter encompassing social/political conscience, self-revelatory angst, observations of nature, memories of childhood, painful loss, and soaring love. The poet employs several styles with an authentic voice and the authority born of a true artist. There is nothing derivative in either her style or language, for the source of inspiration seems to come from a unique perspective which has many 'layers'. I have been deeply moved by the humanity, honesty and depth of feeling shown by the poet. Her mastery of language is compelling. The work is both luminous and strong.

Kim Johnson is one of the most intelligent and thoughtful writers out there today. She speaks every sentence with knowledge, form, and creativity that brings life alive. We could all learn from her ability to view life through intensely descriptive lenses that help you value what's important.

Searing and musical, this book is one of the best I've read in some time. Highly recommended.

Kimberly Johnson Rocks the House!! If you were to read just one book this year (besides the Bible), "Leviathan with a Hook" would be the only one capable of satisfying your hunger for words that sparkle! Kim writes with passion, fire, and thought,...

Leviathan With A Hook is the debut collection showcasing the poetry of Kimberly Johnson. Drawing upon her scholarship in 16th and 17th century poetry, Johnson writes a lucid and energetic verse noted for a unique musical form and literary vision that will fully engage and reward her reader's attention. Pater Noster: This garden is a betrayal. It has nothing/to do with me--the brooding columbine,/anemones measuring the wind, the rose/involved, roes interrupted//not in their browse through roes of indigo./Cardinals hinge on air, draw flight/in a thread of scarlet. Fishpools gaze/at clouds, full of clouds//like fish and fish like clouds, golden/in sunlight, finning the doubled blue./The wallflower flings pale kisses at the sky./The silver maple flaps its silver at any passerby.

What a great book! Wow would I love to meet this woman.

This is the most compelling book of poetry for educators I have ever read. Life's Literacy Lessons is fresh, honest, and endearing. The topics are relevant, and the poems themselves will bring back fond memories of things that have happened to all of us who serve "in the trenches." Whenever I need a bit of encouragement I pick up this book and read, read, read.

After receiving Steve Layne's book "Teachers' Night Before Christmas" as a gift and meeting him at a conference, I had to have this. Real teachers writing about real situations makes for funny and sad moments, and this brings them all home. Having taught several grade levels, I could relate to so many of the poems. Our literacy committee just met to begin an in-district project, and our coordinator passed out a copy of this book to every committee member, and then read a poem to open. Now I have two copies which is just fine with me.

I find so much truth and passion in Steve Layne's poetry. I have read this little treasure over and over again and have bought it as a gift for many of my colleagues. I especially loved the poem entitled "Reading Orphans" which reminds us just how much children need the care and nurturing of a good teacher. I also appreciated the final poem written by one of Steve's students. It gave me so much encouragement to keep on striving to be the best teacher I can be for my students. I highly recommend this title.

Steve Layne goes right to the heart of the matter with this insightful collection of poetry. I laughed, cried, and acknowledged the truth conveyed in these precious poems. I especially loved the section about reading aloud to children of all ages. I also was thrilled to see that this book has been endorsed by many of the giant names in literacy education including Jim trelease. Don't miss this one.

I just love this collection of poems that has made me laugh and cry again and again ever since I bought it at the IRA Plains literacy conference. Anyone who knows anything about education and the crisis in literacy today is sure to love Steven Layne's soul-stirring poems. It's refreshing to find an educator who tells the truth in such an honest manner. If you enjoy poetry and care about kids -- you can't go wrong with this book.

I spent 13 months at a Zen monastery and reading Shaffer's book was like a jump into a cool pond after a long summer day baling hay. These poems cleanse the stuffy spiritual dirt from your bones and release the playfulness that is inherently ours for the taking. "The glory of this great round moon/ would make the Buddha gasp./ Stars shy from silver light/ framed by soft black boughs/ in a sky so deep in blue/ a lone cloud sails dark crests on an empty sea./ What a shame to say all this/ just because I can't/ keep my mouth shut."

Shaffer knows how to have fun.

Eric Paul Shaffer, a scholar of Lew Welch, Gertrude Stein and William Shakespeare, turns his reckless eye to the far east and examines the life and personality of Shih-te, friend of that bear of a poet, Han-shan, and an accomplished poet himself. Many of Shaffer's re-creations of Shih-te's work are poignantly funny as he takes out his wrath, his rapier wit, on the monks of the monastery where he works as a cook. These monks, you see, take themselves far too seriously for Shih-te's taste. Not Han-shan, not even Shih-te himself, escape Shih-te's ire for very long, as the poet-cook considers his entire world fair game. Shaffer is a poet of uncommon elegance and subtlety, and enough of a roughneck to keep his work deeply-rooted and gritty. Shaffer's best since "Rattlesnake Rider" (sadly out of print), and even better the second time through!

(...)I was never much of a poetry fan. Until I met Shaffer's poetry that is.

I met him at (a bookstore) on Maui and was invited to his poetry reading. With two young children I rarely made it out of the house in the evening, but something compelled me to go. Listening to him read his work was excellent! I've bought all he's written ever since.

If you want to read poetry that is light yet insightful, keen and at times biting, buy Eric Paul Shaffer's "Living at the Monestery, Working in the Kitchen." You'll read it over and over again.

I have never been much of a poetry reader--mostly because I have often found it to be obtuse or irrelevant. My opinion changed, though, after reading Eric Shaffer's work. I loved PORTABLE PLANET (his first collection of poems), and LIVING IN THE MONASTERY, WORKING IN THE KITCHEN was even better! His poetry is fresh, humorous and filled with simple images that manage to evoke complex emotions. "Will good and evil deeds be weighed?/Who ponders such nonsense is lost." -- simple truth, eloquently stated. Buy this book and forget your preconceived notions about poetry. Eric Shaffer will blow them out of the water!

These lyrics, from a 9th century zen monk who knows his way around work and play, arrogance and humility, keep bringing us back: to work, to our places in the pecking order, to friends and how they do and do not understand us, to seeing our suffering for what it is and what it is not. Shih te announces, "The kitchen I work in is dark, / but clean as a kernal of uncooked rice . . . My broom stands by the stove, / palm-polished wood in easy reach / should I wish to sweep red dust around the room." And in a time when the retreat centers and spiritual workshops are full, Shih te takes a sly look at his buddy Han Shan: "Most days I refuse / Cold Peak's invitation to the clouds. / In the kitchen, fire cooks rice / but only with the willing work of water. / I am happy as I am, / and that's enough."
Like his PORTABLE PLANET, these poems come with a set of instructions: "Do your work. Stop. Listen. Eat. Wash your bowls. Sit still. Breathe." I hesitated to read anymore; what else could there be? But there's more!