Poetry Books

This book of poems perfectly captures the joys and tragedies of our lives. The valor and courage of everyday people are celebrated. Very uplifting and beautifully written book.

Critics describe Crooker's poetry here as "a sublime tonic against the darkness" or "spilling over with energy and movement" or "exquisite." The work in Line Dance is all that, of course. Such critical praise is justified and deserved, but leaves out two important aspects readers need to know. One, regardless of topic -- death, autism, failure, loss -- Barbara Crooker distills beauty from it. Two, her joyous words will be easily understood by readers. She welcomes readers into her world and makes them feel at home.

In "Blues for Karen" Crooker reaches out to a dead friend the best way she knows how, through words and images:

How could you die? We weren't done talking yet.
So I am trying to call you using the morning glories,
whose blue mouths are open to the sky,
whose throats are white stars,
thinking those tendrils could trellis upward,
hand over little green hand, so tenacious,
they hang on in any storm...

Crooker's use of metaphors is reader-friendly. We can all relate to her descriptions with a sense of wonder. This excerpt from "Zero at the Bone" takes us to a frozen place where the wintry season joins the unwritten lines of the heart:

The scouring light of winter
scrubs whatever it falls on,
the bright whiteness revealing
all the small incursions,
marks and stains of another year.
In the bare bones of trees, we see
old nests, broken branches, bagworm,
gall, all that was hidden by summer's
green scrim. Now we are at the heart
of things, the bone chill
of zero, the closed eye
of the pond. No secrets.

Buried within "The VCCA Fellows Visit the Holiness Baptist Church, Amherst, Virginia" is one of the sweetest, most touching and comforting ruminations on death I've ever read:

...a deacon speaks of his sister,
who's "gone home," and I realize he doesn't mean
back to Georgia, but she's passed over. I float
on this sweet certainty, of a return not to the bland
confection of wispy clouds and angels in nightshirts,
but to childhood's kitchen, a dew-drenched June
morning, roses tumbling by the back porch.

These poems represent "the thin rind of memory" protecting the juicy pulp that is Barbara Crooker's life and poetic mind. Highly recommended.

Barbara Crooker's poem are easy to like. She has a flair for words and images that touch the heart. It helps to read this book from beginning to end becuase she has organized the poems so beautifully around the central poem, "Line Dance."

In this, her second collection of poems, Barbara Crooker explores the territory of what brings us joy, of what breaks our hearts. Grief and love. "Grief and heart could be the same word," she suggests. "Both have / five letters; both rhyme / with blood." It's not sadness that occupies these poem, rather the idea that in spite of grief, there is joy in the simple things life offers: the swelling bud of a pink peony, grey juncos at her bird feeder, the autistic son who surprises her, the dead who dance at a wedding. Crooker has the ability to bring light into the darkest spaces; her poems burst with color: lemons and the lavish light of yellow, red hearts in windows facing a snowy landscape, brown-eyed sunflowers. There is music in these poems, in her deft use of language, in the surprising and oh-so satisfying way Crooker can bring in that last image, like a bow at the end of a performance. You will leave these poems dancing and satisfied, too, that you were allowed a few moments in the world of her extraordinary poetic ear and eye.

I'm riffing on the warm air, the wing beats of my lungs
that can take this all in, flush the heart's red peony,
then send it back without effort or thought.
And the trees breathe in what we exhale,
clap their green hands in gratitude, bend to the sky.

Close to twenty years ago, I read a Crooker poem, "Raspberries," in the collection, The Lost Children. Until then, I had never found such erotic beauty in a fruit ... and beauty/redemption in what scars our lives, as in "Christ Comes to Centralia," from the same collection.

With Line Dance the simple beauty remains, but each seems filled with particulars, e.g., in describing the Pennsylvania mountains, Crooker reveals: "... Blue, Allegheny, Kittatinny / Tuscarora, this big-muscled, broad-backed / hunk of a state." Or in listing the winters of impressionist artists: "Caillebotte's chimneys exhale like glamorous / women in a cafe."

Crooker's strong metaphorical language inhabits the lines, but the poems seem airy and natural. Each word is perfectly placed; the line endings are natural--not straining toward the jarring/illogical effect of much contemporary poetry; and the final lines are lessons for anyone who has ever wondered how to end a poem.

Other reviewers have mentioned the "autism poems," and anyone who reads such poems as "45s, LPs" will understand how, as in other fields of endeavour, less is more! The "less" in this and other poems that deal with the autism of her son, breaks our hearts--less is more.

And, perhaps, in this amateur review, I should end with less: Buy and Read this Book.

"Little Savage" is that rare specimen of contemporary poetry; it is a debut collection by a young poet who has already mastered her craft and not only takes her writing seriously but has something serious to say with her writing.

Her poetry utilizes Ancient Greek Myth, classical music, and occasional glimpses of the young poet's childhood to construct an elegantly haunted house where a ghostly echo for the truth of recollection howls. From my perspective not one poem in the entirety of this 67 page incantation strikes a false note, no pun intended.

Most awards given to youthful/aspiring poets nowadays are given out of desperation for new material, the ceremonial backscratching between the old and young that must go in the arts for them to continue existing,
and the desire for critical blurbs in which more accomplished poets can flex their verbal muscles with false praise. Emily Fragos is a violin found in a haystack of twisted musical cords, you might say. Exciting, energetic and haunting work.

What is most remarkable about Emily Fragos' poetry is the clear emotional throughline in each poem. Fragos guides the reader into a field of feeling that unfolds with increasing intensity. For example,

With a stick I drew stick faces in the hardened
ground, touching my people
with the long, cold finger,
rubbing the lines so they turned to crust
and weathered away like the oak
outside my window.
(Solstice)

The poems explore a variety of emotional registers, from contemplative to jaunty, but whatever the mood, they are transportation to a unique world of sensibility offering glimplses of paintings by Velasquez, Vermeer, Brueghel, the music of Gould, Callas, Scarlatti, the whimsy of personified of Sorrow & the quotidian sublimity of an overdue library book or a cat show. All thngs become magical in Fragos' hands.

Emily Fragos is our ambassador from the world of close, close attention being paid. Too often we rush by the best and worst of our human-ness, which is where the really interesting stuff is hidden. Poems like these remind us of what poetry is for--every line is under intense psychic pressure, there is not a shred of sentimentality, and not a word is wasted. "Severe" is not usually a word used as praise, but here it is very apt. "Little Savage" is wonderful.

Emily Fragos has long had a kind of underground fame in New York City. Finally her first collection has arrived... and it fulfills every expectation: artful, revealing, soulful, and full of empathy and passion. This is what happens when a heart that cares about the broken things of the world pumps ink onto the page. No stylish chicanery or pyrotechnics. Not fanciful spelling or self indulgence. Just heartful revelation and empathy for the world. In a world where posers fill shelves, Fragos is the real thing: From "Host," my favorite poem: "There are two worlds I know of: the vast illumined and the place where I am. I need the other the way a virus needs a host...And my body inhabited suffers and wonders: Whose hands are these? Whose hair?" A book of top drawer poems by a top drawer poet.

Emily Fragos' wonderous "Little Savage" is the best argument I've ever read not to rush out a first book. It's clearly the work of a poet who's honed her ideas and art over time. The poems arrive as perfectly polished as stones shaped by a river.

This is a wonderful poetry book as is all of Douglas Florian's books. It actually reminds you of how wonderful poetry can be and how it can be easy to share with students. This book teaches about many types of lizards, frogs and you guessed it, Polliwogs! A wonderful book of poetry even for those who claim to dislike it.

This is a book of poems about various reptiles and amphibians. The poems are great; their content is funny and rhythmic. Through the poems we learn about the various animals. The illustrations are very creative collages that are unique compared to most other children's books.

The poems are short and to the point, and his illustrations are extremely creative.

This would make a great read aloud during a unit on poetry or reptiles and anphibians.

The poems are gross enough for my 5 year old son with illustrations cool enough for my 6 year old daughter and language clever enough for their 40+ yo English teacher mom.

This delightful book of strange things and clever rhymes is a joy to read. The rhymes are imaginative, instructive, silly and alliterative. This gem is appealing on many levels: the light-hearted poetry, the colorful, whimsical illustrations and nature's gallery of fascinating creatures to stimulate youthful curiosity.

With a granddaughter in the first grade, I am always looking for books that offer attractive illustrations, but also incorporate ideas that lead to an appreciation of words. After reading each poem/page, my granddaughter was soon clamoring to read the rhymes herself: "But did you know that alligators/ Sometimes swallow second graders?"

Suddenly, each page is her favorite, like "The Iguana": "I wouldn't wanna/ Be an iguana_" We choose from the skink, the gecko, the cobra, the Komodo dragon, the box turtle and even the polliwog: "We polliwoggle./ We polliwiggle./ We shake in lakes/ Make wakes/And wriggle." By the time we reach "The Bullfrog", she has lowered her voice to copy the croaking bullfrog. This book is a delight to share with a child, an occasion for tongue-twisting rhymes and giggles. The highest praise I can offer is that I have ordered more of Florian's exceptional work. Luan Gaines/ 2005.

My two-year-old son is a *huge* reptile fan, and he loves this book. The playful language is wonderful, and it's an inspiring way to talk and think about different types of animals. It's one of those books that *I* love reading, too!

Dwight, please give us another 20 years of words.

dwight yoakam has always been my favorite rockabilly, and he will always be. this is a great book and yes a must have. love the lyrics, even knowing i have the lyrics already on his cd's i still love the book a worth haveing if youre a fan of dwight yoakam's. worth every penny. a happy fan

I have every CD Dwight Yokham has ever put out, plus ever video clip he sings on CMT, and I would love nothing better to come to the States to hear him sing live in concert, as I have recently discovered I am terminally ill and there is no cure or treatment for my disease, as it so rare. I will keep on watching CMT to get as much as Dwight Yokahm as I can before this dreadful disease claims me, and then when I get to heaven I am going to ask God to put CMT on in heaven, so I can still listen to him up there. I am 46, happily married with 2 children, Tamara who is 26 and simon who is 24 and getting married on Easter Sunday next year, and hopefully, I will still be around until then.

Monica Sprott

Dwight Yoakam does not write complex lyrics. What he writes are lyrics of deep emotion and unsurpassed longing. Without the twang-and-swing of his honky-tonk melodies, these songs are reduced to their bared bones, stripped and displayed in all their anguish and despair. From the straightforward "It won't hurt when I fall down from this barstool; it won't hurt when I stumble in the street; it won't hurt 'cause this whiskey eases misery; but even whiskey cannot ease your hurting me" to the more thought-provoking "Don't look inside, don't look there, 'cause you might find yourself somewhere, walking around lost and alone, without one clue that it's a long way home" Dwight speaks to the heart and the mind, and to deeper emotions.

"Twelve Years of Words" is printed as a simple, straightforward book of poetry, introduced with Dwight's eloquent, thoughtful prose. It is true that anyone who has the CDs already has the lyrics, printed on each CD insert. But there is a beauty in this presentation, all of his poems gathered together into one slim little volume without the music. I'm very much hoping that, in time, there will be "Twenty Years of Words" and it will be updated as he continues to write those simple, elegant, words.

I saw this book in the public library, and I knew I had to have a copy of my own. Yoakam was reared in Columbus, Ohio, where I live, and I think he is the freshest talent in music in any genre. His lyrics are simple and direct and tell wonderful stories; it's as if he can look into everyone else's hearts when it comes to differing emotions. I am a fan of this man's music, and he's a great actor, too. I appreciate that he has not sold himself to pop music like other country stars -- but then again, I don't consider him a country star. He's carved a niche of his own. Bless you, Dwight, and your mom (she still lives here!).

John's work reminds me of a Zen saying-- that you can never step into the same river twice. (Because, as with everything, the river is constantly changing and becoming new all the time). So it is with John's poetry-- it will present new and differing meanings, patterns and images with each reading.

He writes as he feels-- not to some prescribed form or method but simply as he is. Longitudes is a delightful read that you'll wish to share over and over again. My favorite line is from the poem, "The One-Legged Hopping Man-- "In a world of the misbegotten, perfection is seen as error ..."

Do yourself a favor and read this collection.

This book is like a tray full of interestingly shaped and tasty poetic hors d'oeuvres. The sense I get from these damn fine and fun poems, is that of the eternal college student, someone never quite finished with his master's thesis and quite comfortable, nay, ecstatic, with the fact. These are poems full of history, philosophy, art and gritty street hunger, lust and thirst.

You're walking down the richly-appointed hallway of a luxurious Florntine palace, basking in stupefied wonder and awe of your surroundings. Suddenly, one if the lavish tapestries is yanked away and you're left looking at what's really there-- curious water marks on the wallpaper. That's what reading Birkbeck's poems is like; the yanking away of apparent reality, and the glimpse underneath of the virtual reality. This poet is a magician!

I use the word "Lunatic" in a flattering way, of course, when I deal with John Birkbeck's poems. His references to the moon are quite cryptic and laden with spooky mystery. Just as in the body of his work, one dangles between humour and horror. Many of his poems are a sort of wake-up call for those of us who walk on the thin ice of the reality of the inner life.

Although John Birkbeck is sparing in his words and in the use of punctution, this, oddly, makes the sound and sense of the poems more cogeant and ingestible. He is a master at complex bathos and yet manages to be quite funny, too. One does not "review" a book like this, one wallows in it!

Most of the poems here are beautiful. Some convey the feeling of love gained and others tell the story of love lost or the perils of love.

I really like the poem "Thyrsis and Amaranta" by Jean De La Fontaine hilariously true!! It tells the story of a young man who is in love with a girl who doesn't even know he longs for her. He hints and clues his feelings to her and in the end-- well, if you've ever fallen in love and found out someone has already beaten you to the person you want to be with, you'll instantly get this poem.

There are other poems here that have haunting truths like "They That Have Power" by William Shakespeare. A must read for anyone who knows someone who uses their looks for the disadvantage of others.

This book is a must have for anyone who is interested in poetry. Anyone who is interested in love. And anyone who wants to laugh here and there at a general truth of people who are in love. A real good buy.

This is both an excellent and beautiful collection of
love poetry collected from many different poets, male
and female, and from many different eras, and from
many different lands...but the focus is Love...and the
responses to Love...
The poems are grouped in sections. The titles of
the sections are: Definitions and Persuasions; Love
and Poetry; Praising the Loved One; Pleasures and
Pains; Fidelity and Inconstancy; Absence, Estrangement,
and Parting; Love Past.
The "selecter" and editor, Peter Washington, says
the best words about the nature, scope, and purpose
of this book in his "Foreword": "My selection of poems
for the anthology which follows has been guided by
simple principles. Each piece had to be first-rate
in its own way, and each had to contribute something
distinctive to our understanding of love. Where there
is similarity of mood, there is difference of emphasis;
where there is repetition of an idea, there is variety
in music. The juxtaposition of apparently comparable
lyrics brings out their differences, and although the
poems are arranged in broad categories which follow
an obvious sequence, it is the echoes they set up in
one another which enrich them all."
-- Peter Washington.
There are so many fine poems that it is very difficult
to pick a sample--but this is very fine indeed:
* * * * * * * * *
In the moonlit chamber, always she thinks of him
Soft wisps of silken willows, languor in the air
of spring.
Verdant were the grasses beyond the gates;
At their parting, she heard the horses neigh.

Draperies patterned of gold kingfishers;
Within, fragrant candle melts in tears.
Falling petals, the morning plaint of the cuckoo,
Green-gauze windows -- fragments of an illusive
dream.

-- Wen T'ing-Yun (?813-870)
[Trans. William R. Schultz]

Though this book was filled with a grand assortment of poems, it did not strike my fancy as I thought it would. When I first ran across the book, I was enthusiastic about reading it for the very reason that love poems are appealing to me, as I am a high school girl.

Before I began to scroll through the pages of poems, I had high expectations for this book. I envisioned myself basking in the sun in a hammock, reading endless love poems, all of which were appealing to my romantic nature. However, I found that the majority of these poems were dull and repetitive. They did not remind me of the romantic fantasy that can be found in fairy tales, or the type of romantic poem that lovers write to one another.

This book consisted of a variety of different authors as well, many who were either from a different origin or not well known. Not only were many of their poems repetitive, but also difficult to understand and envision in one's own mind.

While the majority of this book was not appealing to me, there were some poems in this book that I found I enjoyed. An example is, "When You Are Old," by WB Yeats. I enjoyed this poem because I was able to envision myself, years down the road, with the love of my life. I connected with this poem because I consistently imagine myself growing old with someone and loving him unconditionally, just as the poem insinuated.

But true Love is a durable fire
In the mind ever burning;
Never sick, never old, never dead,
From itself never turning. ~Walter Ralegh

I am naturally drawn to tiny books and this book was no exception. I saw it and instantly fell in love with the red library binding and gold embossing on the fabric cover. This is one of those books you want to carry around with you in your pocket to read on a sunny day while sitting on a park bench.

While most of the poems were new to me, I did find lines to make any poet drown in the pure beauty of words. "In My Sky at Twilight" is a paraphrase of the 30th poem in Raindranath Tagore's The Gardener. The images are lush and mingle emotion with nature. "In Former Days" by Bhartrhari (5th Century) is witty and beautiful in its simplicity. Two lovers are so in love they forget their separateness and then drift back to being "you" and "me." The poem is a mere four lines and yet it provides a intimate look at how lovers feel when in love and when they drift apart. I loved a few lines in "The Palanquin" where a butterfly lands on delicate skin and transfers colors onto the lover's skin.

The poems are divided into 7 sections:

Definitions and Persuasions
Love and Poetry
Praising the Loved One
Pleasures and Pains
Fidelity and Inconstancy
Absence, Estrangement and Parting
Love Past

You may recognize poems by Lord Byron, Edgar Allan Poe, William Shakespeare, Walt Whitman and Dorothy Parker. I was pleasantly surprised by poems by Leconte De Lisle, Pablo Neruda and Dioskorides.

You will find a wide range of love poems. This book contains selections from ancient China to modern America. These poems present the universal experience of the human heart.

~The Rebecca Review

I love this little book. It's chock full of poetic gems, yet each one is so different. The differences in variety are surprising...there are different moods, cadences, emphases.

The poems are arranged in broad categories and follow a rather natural progression from the joys of meeting to the pleasures and pains of being "in love," to an absence of one's beloved and past loves.

Some poets are represented more extensively than are others. These include John Donne, Boris Pasternak, Anna Akhmatova and Christina Rossetti, among others. I don't think anyone who loves good poetry will complain about his disproportionate representation, however. The poets named above are so good, and their ideas so universal, that not repeating them would have been the mistake.

Although all of these poems concentrate on a universally recognized aspect of love, the perspectives vary sharply. There are poems from ancient India, classical Greece, medieval Japan, renaissance England, 19th century France and modern-day America.

The one quality all of these poems share is first-rate writing. You will no doubt find some poems you prefer over others, but you won't find poems that are "better" than others. They are all of the highest quality.

Another thing I like about this series of books is their size. They're small enough to carry in a purse or even a laptop case. I read mine on the train, on the bus, while waiting for the bus, anywhere, really. I couldn't think of a way to improve them.

Sometimes when you pick up a book you have no way of knowing it will be an instant classic. When I first read the work of Jackie Young there was a fluid cadence to the way she made poetry come alive. It danced, it twirled and begged to be set to music. It took you by the hand and said, "Let me teach you why I live and breathe poetry and how no experience I encounter is exempt from being immortalized in verse." As I'd sit back and follow along with the words of her latest offering I felt like the layers were being pulled back on the situation she was describing and I was carefully pulled along like a voyeur for the ride. From the first poem (which may have been back in 1999 or 2000) I knew there was a collection of poetry somewhere on the foreseeable horizon for Miss Young and, so, when she blessed the world with her first poetic offering Love's Reparations: The Learning Curve between Heartache and Healing, I was among the very first to cheer her on and offer my undying support. I'm thrilled that I did and you will be too. Buy it.

Jackie Young's Love Reparations is, by far, one of the best poetic reads I have come across in contemporary literature. The poetry in this wonderful book takes the reader on a journey of love lost to love gained to love's redemption.

The subtitle says it all ""the learning curve between heartache and healing." This learning curve leaves impressions on one's heart and mind as the writings are written so clearly that each piece brings out an experience that we all have gone through and can relate to. Each work paints a vivid picture of what Ms. Young seeks to convey.

Like the works of great poets past, Jackie Young leaves the reader wanting more and also with memorable quotables such as, "I open my mouth to capture every drop of you," and "Sometimes a thing once broken simply becomes more of what it is at its core." A beautiful work of poetry this truly is. I definitely give this book two thumbs up.

Coulee Eidos

APOOO BookClub

Jackie Young's collection, LOVE'S REPARATIONS is a beautiful, honest, truthful and talent-filled compilation of poetry. The personal pieces are thought-provoking and will resonate long after the last poem is read.

Choosing favorites from this collection is almost impossible because each poem has a beauty of its own. LOVE'S REPARATIONS is divided into three sections: Heartache, Learning Curve and Healing. Each of the poems in the separate sections reflects in earnest the feelings of loving, healing and learning from one's experiences. "Last Supper" uses metaphors of food to acknowledge a lover's heartbreak. "Bewildered" is taking a look at one's self and not recognizing who you are anymore. "Musings" is a beautiful piece about becoming one with your poetry. "Homecoming" is welcoming back love after not embracing it due to heartbreak. "Harvest" is about cultivating love. "Peace" is about finding just that. Finally, "Baby Steps" is learning how to follow in God's wake by taking little steps at a time until you learn how to walk with the Lord.

LOVE'S REPARATIONS is a metaphorical and lyrical collection that made me smile, cry and most of all reflect. The poems are to be read slowly so you can absorb their meaning and understand their truth. Young's collection speaks eloquently about the pain of heartbreak, how we can learn from past mistakes and begin to walk the path of healing. Whether the poem was long or short, the strength of its meaning are easily discerned. Young is a very talented poet who is able to use metaphors in a way to capture the emotional depths of each poem. My words cannot adequately reflect my feelings after reading this collection, but I can say poetry lovers and readers alike will be awestruck by this book, it is just that good.

Reviewed by Cashana Seals
of The RAWSISTAZ Reviewers

I simply was not prepared for what I found laced, tucked, splattered, carved, and lovingly presented on the pages of Love's Reparations. It starts with A Dream Deferred, a beautiful work that makes you want to tip away quietly, feeling you have stumbled into an inner sanctum of someone's soul, and continues, poem after poem, masterpiece after masterpiece, with a vulnerability and authenticity that will leave you changed -- forever. Jackie Young gives of herself; a self that hopefully she'll give us much, much more of through her profound artistry in years to come.

No matter what the profession, there are only two types of people in this world: those who are called, and those who call themselves - and Love's Reparations is without a doubt the line that separates the two...

In times like these, when anybody is allowed to feel comfortable calling him/herself a poet, it's an unfortunate consequence that respect for the true craft of writing is ultimately lost in a sea of pretenders, wanna-be's, and never-gonna-be's with dreams of delusionary grandeur, loving nothing more than the sound of their own names coming out of everyone else's mouths. To counter all the claptrap, we need refreshing reminders of just what true creativity and inspired writing really looks & sounds like, lest we all fall into the same stupor of blind, mind-numbing praise for the mediocre - and, in light of that fact, thank God for Jackie Young.

Love's Reparations is the clarion call for true artistry in its purest form, and that call is all at once halting, invigorating, and inescapable. Every single offering gives you pause, and just when you think you're ready to move on, you can't help pausing again, wondering just how it so slyly alters the essence of your very being.

Consider this passage from "Merger":

'I gave myself over to you
feeding you the maximum daily allowance
of my love
until only you remained
and I,
I became a chalk outline in my own life.'

And this passage from "Rude Awakening":

'Shamefully, painfully
I glance at the clock
realizing that the hour it silently screams at me
matters not.
My heart knows it's half past forever and you're not coming
back.'

Despite how much we all know it hurts, heartbreak never sounded so good.

But don't be fooled by the title. Love may be the main course, but Love's Reparations serves up plenty of other entrees for your intellectual appetite. Check out this outstanding haiku:

'crayon mixed with crime tape
they hopscotch around silhouettes
prayers can't attend school'

And this jarring passage from "i built me a daddy outta words":

'we talking, creating new worlds between us, new words
some harsh, some kind
all of them ours
'til i found my words asking things,
looking for answers that my daddy didn't have
cause I hadn't given him THOSE words...'

With laconic grace like this, Jackie proves herself an absolute master at transcribing the profound brevity of emotion - and, as with all masters, this is a skill that can never be taught.

And for all the pretenders out there who think quantity is more important than quality and whose offerings are, as a friend of mine once put it, "as deep as a puddle" - this excerpt from "Musings" says it all:

'Tell me to do for myself what I encourage in others:
Breathe
Be in the moment
Become the poet...and the poem.'

In recent years, I've found myself wondering just who among our generation would take the mantle of responsibility for our collective cultural voice, especially as we witness the quickly fading twilight of Nikki, Maya, and Sonia's careers...well I can worry no longer: Jackie Young is the new standard by which all poetic excellence should be measured, and her lyrical genius deserves nothing less than our respect, admiration, and undying support.

Mr Neruda captures the feeling and emotion of love in these written works. They are from the movie IL POSTINO and have incredible impact.

after watching il postino the italian film the poetry in the movie had me craving more. excellent what a talent how lucky his wife was to have so much love directed toward her.

A great, tiny smattering of love poems by the great Chilean poet and activist, mainly featuring the work of his used in the Italian film, "Il Postino" (if you're a poet and you haven't seen it, you're not actually a poet. You're a person with a journal filled likely with meandering words and diary ruminations and you will give birth to children with monocled vision due to their cyclopian disformities). A must-have for anyone deigning to create poetry of the love stripe, and totally affordable. A perfect launhcing pad for anyone not yet aware of Neruda's incredible amount of excellent, excellent work.

Love, Ten Poems by Pablo Neruda is a romantic short collection by one of the most sensual and romantic poets I have ever read. Neruda draws all of your senses into his world and you want to stay there, never to leave. One wants to find the beauty as he paints it for you, the reader. His wife is the muse of most of his love sonnets. As Neruda says, "Love is so short, forgetting is so long."

I recommend this incredible poet to all who love to read poetry and to those who long to find their love and especially to those who have that love in their life. Neruda's romance will stir your heart and have you soaring.

Read it with your significant other and the emotions will carry you both up and away. Neruda's poems are powerful and their beauty sears into your heart with his words echoing long after. These poems were featured in the movie, The Postman. You cannot help feeing affected by the power of Neruda. He has to be one of THE most powerful masters of the written word.

POETRY by Pablo Neruda

And it was at that age...Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
I felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.

When I first read this poem, something within me blossomed. It was as if Neruda had found a way to pry open my soul and let the True Light, the True Love, and the True Life of my life to finally come forth; naked, unashamed, and gloriously beautiful.

Even though this book only contains ten little poems, you will get so much enjoyment out of each and every one of them. I even gave a copy of this book to someone whose primary reading interests were that of Mad Magazine and the classifieds and he said he never imagined that reading could be so sensual and yet so soulful.

May your heart and soul break wide open and may the radiant jewels that are within come forth for all to see.

Peace and blessings...

I just loved this book and since Mattie died i feel closer to him through the book of peoms .

Mattie has a way to going straight to the heart with his writings. How could a child have had such insight? Could it be that he was an angel sent from God to teach us all the perfect way to live life? The poems are stirring and thought- provoking, and yet are written in utter simplicity. LOVE... the true way of life. This book should be in every school, every home, every library.

What a gift Mattie Stepanek gave us with his writings. I am amazed of the wisdom this young man had. I have all of his books and when I need to find peace I read his poetry.

First of all, Mattie was an amazing child, an angel that graced us with his presence. His words, although obviously written by a child, are far more meaningful than anything I have ever read in my life. His message and attitude inspires me to this moment, and I will live my life with his smile in my mind.

To the person who wrote the terrible review... how dare you. You use the words of an ignorant miserable person, and you need Mattie's book most of all. You're honest opinion is one that should be kept to yourself, Mattie passed away this June and he was so much more than just an ordinary child. He was a gift from God and Im sorry that you are missing out on that, its an amazing gift.

Not sure if you folks know it or not, but Mattie passed away on June 22, 2004, three weeks before he would have turned 14. Christopher Cross's daughter Madison keeps his memory alive at the following website: (...) His books should be an inspiration to us all. Its not so much that his words rhyme or not .... its the meaning of the words that matters.

Mr. Strand writes poems that are brief and books that are brief. What Mr. Strand lacks in length, however, he makes up for in power. "A Piece of the Storm," an eleven line work from his last collection, Blizzard of One, is one of the best poems of the last 10 years. I was hoping to find something of that level in this collection and I did.

"2002" is another top tier poem. It is a meditation on death but with a twist. It begins: "I am not thinking of Death, but Death is thinking of me./He leans back in his chair, rubs his hands, strokes/his beard, and says, `I'm thinking of Strand...'". Normally, I find a poet using his own name in a poem incredibly narcissistic, but here it gives grounding to a poem of fantasy. Plus, it seems to invite the reader to substitute their own name. From there, the poem follows Death's thoughts until it reaches this chilling closing: "...O let it be soon. Let it be soon." I love it.

As is often the case, even with poets I enjoy, the rest of the book is uneven. There are some other jewels here, including "Mother and Son" and "Poem After the Seven Last Words," a sequence of stanzas built around the last words of Christ on the Cross. What I like about this poem is how there is a subtlety and universality about it. Still, some of the poems are quite poor, including "2032," the companion to "2002." But I am will to work my way through some poems I don't like to find something like "2002."

This was my first experience reading a full collection by Mark Strand but I am very impressed, which shouldn't be surprising giving the awards and honors that Strand has received.

To me, this collection is full of poems that are the narrator trying to find his place in the world. There are many poems that look into what it is to be a writer, but that is not the only place in the world that the narrator is looking for.

What I note the most in these poems, as a poet, is the great use of dialogue and strong use of the actual line.

This collection could have a wide audience and hope many will consider reading it!.

The best poems teem with humor, moments of wonder, mystery, and sublime beauty; and one piece -- "Poem after the seven last words" -- can only be described as a work of genius. While some of the poems contained in "Man and Camel" come up short, there are others -- such as "Mirror" -- that are truly exceptional. The book as a whole is not quiet the masterpiece that is "Blizzard of One," but in its finest moments it is certainly the Pulitzer Prize winners' equal, and might even be better. In the best pieces there is an economy at work in the words, a sparseness and deceptive simplicity. Everything is deliberate, nothing unconsidered. There is also a purposeful ambiguity. The intent of these poems is not to answer or explain but to invoke, astonish, and confront with undeniable beauty and grief.

This is the eleventh poetry collection by Mark Strand and provides light masterpieces of spiritual meditations and social conditions. Poems are all free verse and vary immensely in theme and approach - but all are hard-hitting comments: "Something was wrong/screams could be heard/in the morning dark/it was cold." Mark Strand's reflections always make you think: MAN AND CAMEL is no exception.

Strand is a magnificent poet. His ideas and images are brilliant and the arrangement of the poems makes one flow into the other and it is impossible to stop reading. Tight and concise, lyrical and thought provoking, interesting and entertaining. He won a well-deserved Pulitzer a few years ago, and these poems are additional evidence as to why.

Favorites include "Black Sea," "Marsyas," "Mother and Son," and "Mirror."