Poems Books

For a down day, you are lifted up.... for an up day you are lifted up higher! Thank God that a book like this is available! Excellent!

Sarah Sox
Lutheran Church Stephen Minister

I am writing this review for my 89 year old grandmother. She likes this book very much. No matter where she opens it up it seems to hit what she needs that day.

This little book is loaded with short prayers, thoughts, and meditations that speak to my heart and soul. I've found it useful for my own meditations and also for church groups.

Haven't read it, but giving it 5 stars, not only because others did too, but I know it should be good. Not only because other people in this review had said so, but because MR. ABEE IS MY ENGLISH TEACHER.

Steve Abee is the BOMB! If you haven't read his book...read it! You haven't lived until you've read King Planet! Steve makes you see sides of Los Angeles that you wouldn't be able to notice in a lifetime. He is a true writer.- he keeps it real and at the same time keeps it beautiful. He is beautiful.His words are meaningful, true, real, beautiful, crazy, nerotic, awsome! Read it once, twice, a million times! But read it! It's a privellege! Believe me! P.S. I was NOT payed to say this!

READ IT! READ IT! YOU WON'T REGRET IT!

KING PLANET DESERVES 100,000,000 stars!

If you live in Southern California and you haven't seen Steve Abee read in person, you should be forced to sit on the 101 at rush hour with a full bladder. This collection of stories and poems is funny, sad, hopeless, glorious,and, finally, real. Steve Abee may not get the press of other writers of short fiction and spoken word, but he doesn't need it. He's got the talent.

This book of poems is perhaps as good, or even better than his Pulitzer Prize winning 'Different Hours.' I have read most of his works, and was a writing student of his at Stockton State College. Equally good and a must read is Stephen Dunn's 'Between Angels.'

While I have not read this entire book, today I heard the author himself read the (20 min!) poem, "Loves" from this book. After speaking with Stephen Dunn at the 1999 Millenium Future Leaders Summit, in connection with the White House Millenium Lectures, I can assure you that he is a highly interesting person, speaker and poet. His works are very introspective and offer a lot of entertainment, education, and thoughts to ponder! This is, I am sure, an excellent book.

This book of poems is perhaps as good, or even better than his Pulitzer Prize winning 'Different Hours.' I have read most of his works, and was a writing student of his at Stockton State College. Equally good and a must read is Stephen Dunn's 'Between Angels.'

This book has certainly touched my heart! This author`s voice is clearly heard in this book.

I have really enjoyed reading "Letters to God and Other Poems That Touch the Heart". The poems are very heartwarming and very inspirational. The poems remind us that we are all Godly beings with a direct connection to the all mightly God. This book is truly a "must have" and would be an asset to any household. Read it and be blessed.

I enjoyed reading this book. The poems are very touching and heart warming.

Several years ago I reviewed the collected poetry of Christina Pacosz. Her beautiful words stunned me to silence and I've been following her published poetry online ever since. Like many female poets from around the world, Pacosz is a member of the Wom-Po Listserv -- an internet presence founded by Annie Finch and recognized internationally for its excellence. Wom-Po's goal as a website and the purpose of this anthology is to "give women poets and their poetry the recognition they deserve." To date, Wom-Po spin offs include listservs, workshops, collaborations, translations, and networking opportunities unavailable to female poets of earlier generations.

The 259 contributing poets from 19 countries on 5 continents represented in this anthology combined their considerable gifts, talents, philosophies, and rich cultural heritages into an amazing blend of poetry and essays. Styles vary from quatrain, sonnet, formalist, and triolet to tanka, haiku, free verse, ekphrasis, and experimental.

This is an exceptional anthology, one to be savored slowly by poetry lovers everywhere. With a universal wisdom, tenderness and grace, these poets transcend the violence we see every day in the world around us. They are the Emily Dickinsons of their time, sending their messages to the world. To quote the Dickinson poem:

This is my letter to the world,
That never wrote to me.....

In this age of wars and cultural divisions, it's time the world listens and writes back in kind. That's what the Wom-Po listserv poets hope to accomplish with this anthology. Highly recommended.

This fine anthology spans a huge range, as you might expect with a collection created in such a democratic manner. Sometimes range dilutes a collection, but here it works to the book's advantage, creating surprise as the poems spark against one another. Short essays by members of the list serve work like punctuation throughout, creating breathing room for the poems as well as commentary.

And there are so many delights! There's quite a good deal of finely-wrought verse in traditional forms, highlights of which include of the rhymed quatrains of Rachel Dacus's "Femme au chapeau" and Jilly Dybka's "Lost Things," the sonnets of Marilyn Taylor and Christine Whittemore, and the grace of Ellen Goldstein's "Meadowbrook Sapphics," Ruth Foley's "Triolet for Eric," and Annie Finch's "Letter for Emily Dickinson."

Subjects of cancer and illness were sensitively handled by Jean Anaporte-Easton in "poem for the new year," Ann Neuser Lederer's "The Undifferentiated," and Susan Meyers's "Awaiting My Brother's Pathology Report..." These poems moved me deeply. I also loved Penelope Scambly Schott's meditation on aging, "April, Again."

Kimberly L. Becker's close observation in "The Fallen Apples," Catherine Daly's smart take on women's lingerie in "Of Hollywood," Annie Deppe's repeating film clip of "The Throat Singers," Kate Greenstreet's meditation on cows in "Lives of the Saints" were all mesmerizing. I loved the many tributes to other writers and artists, including David Graham's "Long Overdue Note...," Yerra Sugarman's "To Miklos Radnoti," and Braden Welborn's "Paradise Garden."

I was interested in how often Biblical or mythological themes kept appearing. Favorites among those include Kate Bernadette Benedict's "Sheela-na-gig," Kathleen Flenniken's "It's Not You, It's Me," Cynthia Roth's "The Sound of Love Failing," and Katha Pollit's "The Expulsion."

And I don't want to omit praise for poems by Molly Peacock, Ann Fisher-Wirth, Barbara Crooker, Jeanne Marie Beaumont, or the incredible poems transforming trauma into art by Wendy Taylor Carlisle and Ana Doina. All in all, this is a remarkable anthology.

One reader described reading this collection of 259 poems from 259 poets as (forgive us Forest Gump) like "dipping into a delicious box of chocolates." The authors live in 19 countries on 5 continents and the reality of this handsome book shows what positive good the Internet can bring. All these poets who met on a LISTSERV (Wom-po) have in common is an interest in poetry written by women.

Each day I open the book to where it falls and I read. Today my favorite is David Graham's wryly honest "Long Overdue Note to My College Professor Who Broke Down and Cried One Morning in 1974 While Teaching Yeats." But I think tomorrow it will be Ann Fisher-Wirth's "Blue Window" which wonders "will I have told the world/how I love this life I am forced to lose?" The coolest thing about this collection is that the poets selected the poem that would represent them--All the editors (heroes all) did was sort, stack, typeset, and organize--what a huge task (can you imagine organizing 267 poets?). The collection is a delight.

oh dude, sam, bro, i just got an awsome idea for you, more like for me but in benefit of you. When the school year starts, ill have the library and english class order your books for their school! huh.....huh....yeah, mr. bestseller, well...kinda, but its a start! And for everybody else reading this. This book is simply awsome to keep it short and sweet, theres no other word to describe it, if your into poetry or are just just looking to get inspired. Look no further.

I am a big time "Crow" fan. I loved O'Barr's work and seeing his latest cover was all that I needed to buy this book. After reading it, I can say the poetry has matched its beautiful cover.

Ro Blue's poems and short stories are universal. There is something here for everyone and you don't need to be a lit major to enjoy it. His poems range from day to day events to asking the big important questions. My favorite is Heaven, where Ro wonders who is right about the afterlife.

Life and Death in Black, White and Blue is for both the serious reader and for those of us, who only read poetry at school because we had to.

...but then, I'm biased...

I wrote it. :)

I would like to thank James O'Barr for providing the cover art that accompanies this little project. He is a brother to my soul.

Hope you like it.

Blue

Soon it will be "All Saints' Day' - a not inappropriate time to choose this book to read next, out-of-order. I allow myself certain indulgences, using the excuse of age, not because they are deserved.

It is a good decision, for a more than five star book, the package so eagerly opened. Looking back at other reviews I see many '5 stars' - but they represent gradations that don't show - one is five stars for a five year old, another a 5 star choice for someone impatient for those bonuses of retirement to show up, & so forth.

Black specks multiply at my vision's edge. I blink them away and think they must be dust motes. I expect those. The "Breathing Lessons" from Marilyn Chandler McEntytre's poem will deal with those intrusions. I choose the Epiphany in the last poem.

I also choose "Because what you hoped for . . ." (pg. 32), "In Rembrandt's House" (pg. 27), "Pilgrim" - especially 'muddling through' on page 80, "What I don't know" (pg. 89) and on page 61, "Desert Star."

I am not listing poems insisting they appeal to you, as in "You are sure to appreciate THIS ..." Later, after you delve deep into "The Light at the Edge" - you may find one or 2 of "my titles" have also 'struck home' with you, and you may wonder if this mcHaiku is another kindred spirit?

You will discover in this book that the author's thoughts come to you like hands laid on in blessing, and live that day in gratitude.

I try to read poetry all the time, sometimes in my days it's hard to find excellent work, harder still to try and write good works. So amazingly I think you will find this among the best work you have read in a good while. As a woman in my 40's who has lived long enough and well enough to appreciate the value of a day,value of a friend, know the disappointments and grief of human suffering and having cancer and illness channel my being so that I can understand the complex relationship one has to living...and lived long enough to see world struggles with peace and the gravity of war... here is a volume which I saw reviewed on this site by someone I admire ....it came today and I can't put it down tonight. Here is one small excerpted piece of Marilyn Chandler McEntyre's works ...

What I Don't Know

What I don't know
about my condition
could stock the shelves
of a medical library.

Theories expand to fill
the time allotted. I don't know
enough to theorize. I know
enough to come in out of
the hailstorm of opinion,leave
the clinics behind, neglect
the pile of queries from
the HMO.
I know
how to live with open space
and how to handle
time like a cracked teapot
that still holds water
if it's not too hot.



I found all the poems just amazingly good...and well worth the price of admitance. If you are a woman in mid-life it is possible it will speak with even more power to your life, certainly that is a feature of my connection tonight. Her definitions, descriptions, metaphorical constructs are rich with wisdom and insight. If you select this work, you will be delighted. And lost in thoughts often unvoiced.

The Light At The Edge is an impressive collection of poetry drawn from the collective works of Marilyn Chandler McEntyre. Creatively analyzing, comforting, and questioning the actualities of life, McEntyre's original and articulate poetry deftly, seemingly effortlessly, maneuvers within the intricacies of the English language to expertly craft images that linger in the reader's mind and imagination. David's Portion: Elbows planted, he lifts one/sneakered foot, then the other,/while eyes and tongue find their way/over the ancient sounds.//His not-yet-man's voice rises,/falls light, and lifts again. It softens/the guttural edges of words/ragged with centuries of sorrow.//Only a few lines a day./Only enough to drop a blessing/on these autumn afternoons.//Obedient, impatient, foot tapping/him toward the last lines,/syllable by hard-won syllable/he grows into his song.

I had not heard of Frank Stanford until my dear friend Bill gave me this little book. He explained that he was on a mission to introduce people he cared about to Stanford's poems. I can see why I missed it, since his work does not fit into any of the clean boxes that some of my early poetry influences favored. All the same, I am sorry that I missed it for so long. The jumpy dream-like quality was a lot of what I was trying to work for, back when I was writing poetry.

Oddly enough, once I started reading this, all kinds of other connections appeared. For instance, my favorite Lucinda Williams song, Pineola, was written for Stanford.

I like the rural focus that the poems have, and the way that the diction feels familiar even when I do not know exactly what Stanford is saying. He clearly has a taste for tall tales and dreams, and tells the truth of his world through these beautiful fantasies. It is a sad truth, and often a broken truth. Even if the introduction had not told me that Stanford killed himself, I might have guessed it after reading his work.

Stokesbury wrote a good introduction, by the way. It is informative, short and not irritating. A mark that many other poetry collections miss.

Anyhow, there are times when I feel as though I can review poetry, and other times that I am left at a loss for words. All I can say about this book is that I think it is a good thing that Bill is on his mission-- more people should read this work. I may just join him in it this Christmas.

If you're thinking about buying this book go for it. It is worth it. Most of his books are out of print but thankfully this book is available. If you like it check out Stanford's "The Battlefield Where the Moon Says I Love You."

Frank Stanford died a suicide at a young age, yet managed to create a body of work that deserves to be read despite his youth and nearly 20 years of obscurity. His poems, both subject and meter, are of great beauty. It's too bad that most of his work is out of print but, despite this, the University of Arkansas Press manages to keep the best of his poems alive. They do deserve to be read, and a good part of Stanford's work merits a wider audience. Check out The Light the Dead See for a great example of what this guy managed to create in his short life.

Jim Moore has a knack for distilling experiences to their essence; in a few words, he can go to the heart of complex emotions and situations. His poems have great spiritual resonance--and great humor. You will love not only the poems but the poet by the time you finish reading the book.

Jim Moore continues his series of poetry collections from his home base in Minnesota and while he is widely read, he is often dismissed by some critics as too plain, too simple, too 'regional' to make a difference. The lovers of poetry are encouraged to read this latest collection LIGHTNING AT DINNER and decide for themselves.

Moore's plainspoken language is the product of a life committed to his own values. His imprisonment for refusing to go to Vietnam, his subsequent observations about aging, death, the solitary existence, and the survey of the unnoticed events we call life provide him with far deeper thoughts to convey than his simple words at first suggest. For example in 'Against Empire' he summarizes big thoughts with the lines 'Small olives taste best./ Small stars shine farthest./ Small birds call/ most sweetly. Small lives/ we are small, small lives.' Think about the paucity of words with the universal meaning.

And in 'Brief Lives (2): Warning' he writes '6 A.M., the hour of the serious fishermen/ who stand quietly in orange slickers/ as they sway slightly in the small boats/ far out to sea. Those ancient warnings,/ the pelicans, patrol the world closer at hand./ It is the hour when the nurse tries to wake my mother,/ then lets her fall back again/ into the sea. Some fish are not worth/ the keeping. Asleep again, asleep again,/ her heart rejoices. And the great escape continues,/ alone, in darkness, far under the surface.' Moore manages in these lines to speak not only of coma, of loss and death but of the also of the cycle of life as perceived by a son's quiet time with his dying parent.

Moore continues his dialogue with the errors of the politics that disturb the world's tenure. 'I remember my mother toward the end,/ folding the tablecloth after dinner/ so carefully,/ as if it were the flag/ of a country that no longer existed,/ but once had ruled the world.' This 'simple' analogical method of conveying his feels through the imagery of small things is what, for this reader, makes him signifcant: perhaps his `regional isolation' indeed makes his words more universally fresh and poignant. These are poems for pause, for thought, and for the sheer beauty of language. Grady Harp, January 06

The sixth poetry collection by Jim Moore, Lighting At Dinner is a thoughtful meditation upon the power of art to express and distill feelings of loss. The topics explored include losing one's mother forever, seeing another country, or the shock of experiencing a war fought against one's own wishes, in one's own name. The poignant free verse perfectly captures the timeless nuance of wistful emotion. Teaching the Dog Not to Nip: Do you think it's easy, / not biting / the one you love? / Try loving someone so much / your mouth is only at home / in the place where your teeth / meet the flesh / of your beloved. Try / not tasting the flesh, not taking in your mouth / the beloved, not / going all the way.

One way to read "Littlefoot" is as an imagist's attempt to write a long poem. (Wright aptly calls himself an "image-picker" somewhere in this book.) It is a single poem rather than a sequence; in fact, the "plot" connecting nearby poems -- the progression of seasons -- is often clearer than the loose thematic connections between the segments of an individual poem. As Wright explained in "Apologia pro Vita Sua," his basic form is the journal. The "journal" -- of Wright's 70th year -- tracks his thoughts and surroundings from one October to the next. Wright has always been admired for his ability to write so interestingly about so little; in "Littlefoot," the subject matter has dwindled to essentially nothing, and the writing is as good as ever. All the poems are in Wright's usual two-step free verse line (lines that begin in lowercase are indented):

The great mouth of the west hangs open,
mountain incisors beginning to bite
Into the pink flesh of the sundown. (14)

When the rains blow, and the hurricane flies,
nobody has the right box
To fit the arisen in.
Out of the sopped earth, out of dank bones,
They seep in their watery strings
wherever the water goes.
Who knows when their wings will dry out, who knows their next knot? (1)

The stars drift like cold fires through the watery roots of heaven (13)

A little knowledge of landscape whets isolation.
This is a country of water,
of water and rigid trees
That flank it and fall beneath its weight.
They lie like stricken ministers, grey and unredeemed. (20)

Tree-shadows lying like limbed logs across the meadow,
Sinking into the hill's shadow that stalks them... (21)

I remember the way the mimosa tree
buttered the shade
Outside the basement bedroom, soaked in its yellow bristles. (1)

I love the winter light, so thin, so unbuttery,
Transparent as plastic wrap,
Clinging so effortlessly
to whatever it skins over. (14)


Pipistrello, and gun of motorcycles downhill,
A flirt and a gritty punctuation to the day's demise
And one-starred exhalation, (32)

Stars like motorcycle exhaust
Through the limp leaves of maple trees (33)

As these examples indicate, the descriptions pile up and provide a rich context for each other (keeping "unbuttery" fresh rather than weird), and the last image, in particular, has the weight of the whole book's seeing and thinking behind it. The narrative sections work this way too -- e.g. the story of the Hunter Gracchus is introduced in poem 9, and in poem 24 is applied to the quarter moon "like a sail with no ship / and no port to come home to." The straight-up philosophizing merges into the general currents of thought, too, but it's less compelling as writing than the bits that have their eye on the actual world.

One virtue that Wright's later verse tends to lack is tautness. The gentle meandering of this long poem might irritate some readers -- not me, surprisingly enough! -- who should still enjoy the poems collected in "Negative Blue" and earlier volumes.

Just back from a few days in Charlottesville where I was able to read this out (and the series of poems in the current edition of the Virginia Quarterly Review) on the screened-in porch. Although the book is subtitled "a poem," it's really a cycle of well paced poems in which Wright brings us through meditations on aging, philosophy, and best guessed conclusions with linguistic certainty. If you've been lucky enough to have been reading Wright for a while, read this when you can. If you're new to the poet, it's a good place to start to begin a reading relationship that will challenge, relax, entertain, and satisfy.

Few poets have been as successful at finding the spiritual in the ordinary as Charles Wright has -- Louise Gluck comes to mind, and possibly Jack Gilbert -- but even these titans have not represented the metaphysics of the quotidian as consistently and convincingly as Wright. In a large portion of Wright's poetry the setting is the same: Wright is sitting on his porch chair in his backyard -- sounds boring doesn't it -- but it's not -- because Wright's not just sitting in his backyard, he's sitting in eternity and beholding heaven with all of its rough edges. There is a gospel in the landscape, a language amid the peony blossoms and the sparrows.