Poetry And Voice

Stolen Words I Am Not A Number When We Were Alone I'm Finding My Talk by Rebecca Thomas

The American Voice looks to find the vital edge of modern American writing. The journal, whose contributors come from the U.S., Canada, and Latin America, often publishes work by writers denied access to mainstream journals. Writings from its pages have been regularly reprinted in prize annuals such as The Pushcart Prize, Best American Poetry, and Best American Essays. This fifteenth anniversary anthology collects eighty poems from some of the most original and daring writers of our time. The anthology's contributors range from the world famous Jorge Luis Borges, Marge Piercy, May Swenson to the newly emerging Marie Sheppard Williams, Suzanne Gardinier, Robyn Selman and from the nationally read Wendell Berry, Reynolds Price, Barbara Kingsolver to the distinctly regional George Ella Lyon, Jane Gentry, James Still. This volume brings together some of the best selections from an award-winning journal, making clear why Small Press dubbed The American Voice one of the "most impressive journals in the country."

Poetry and Voice, with a foreword by Helen Dunmore, is a book of essays which fuses critical and creative treatments of poetic voice. Some contributors focus on critical explorations of voice in work by poets such as John Ashbery, Simon Armitage, Eavan Boland, Carol Ann Duffy, Arun Kolatkar, Don McKay and Dragica Rajčić, and on the musical voices of the lyric tradition and of poetry itself. Vicki Feaver, Jane Griffiths, Philip Gross, Waqas Khwaja, Lesley Saunders and David Swann reflect on their own poetic processes of composition, and the development of the voices of childhood, old age, migration, landscape, bilinguality, and imprisonment. Laurel Cohen-Pfister and Tatjana Bijelić examine the nature of poetic voice in exile, the need for fresh voices after war and new spaces in which poetic voices can be heard. In this international collection, the contributors give rare and generous insights into inner poetic processes and external effects. They engage with artistic debates about developing, losing and appropriating voice in poetry and approach the question of what is ‘finding a voice’ in poetry from multiple angles. The book will interest literary critics, poets, lecturers, and undergraduate and postgraduate students of literature, poetry and creative writing.

Blackbird Song is preoccupied with memory and loss, with life's various traumas, and with the solace that might be possible in relationships with other people and our non-human relations.

The place of poetry in modern democracy is no place, according to conventional wisdom. The poet, we hear, is a casualty of mass entertainment and prosaic public culture, banished to the artistic sidelines to compose variations on insipid themes for a dwindling audience. Robert Pinsky, however, argues that this gloomy diagnosis is as wrongheaded as it is familiar. Pinsky, whose remarkable career as a poet itself undermines the view, writes that to portray poetry and democracy as enemies is to radically misconstrue both. The voice of poetry, he shows, resonates with profound themes at the very heart of democratic culture. There is no one in America better to write on this topic. One of the country's most accomplished poets, Robert Pinsky served an unprecedented two terms as America's Poet Laureate (1997-2000) and led the immensely popular multimedia Favorite Poem Project, which invited Americans to submit and read aloud their favorite poems. Pinsky draws on his experiences and on characteristically sharp and elegant observations of individual poems to argue that expecting poetry to compete with show business is to mistake its greatest democratic strength--its intimate, human scale--as a weakness. As an expression of individual voice, a poem implicitly allies itself with ideas about individual dignity that are democracy's bedrock, far more than is mass participation. Yet poems also summon up communal life.. Even the most inward-looking work imagines a reader. And in their rhythms and cadences poems carry in their very bones the illusion and dynamic of call and response. Poetry, Pinsky writes, cannot help but mediate between the inner consciousness of the individual reader and the outer world of other people. As part of the entertainment industry, he concludes, poetry will always be small and overlooked. As an art--and one that is inescapably democratic--it is massive and fundamental.

In an era of rising nationalism and geopolitical instability, Megan Fernandes’s Good Boys offers a complex portrait of messy feminist rage, negotiations with race and travel, and existential dread in the Anthropocene. The collection follows a restless, nervy, cosmically abandoned speaker failing at the aspirational markers of adulthood as she flips from city to city, from enchantment to disgust, always reemerging—just barely—on the trains and bridges and bar stools of New York City. A child of the Indian Ocean diaspora, Fernandes enacts the humor and devastation of what it means to exist as a body of contradictions. Her interpretations are muddied. Her feminism is accusatory, messy. Her homelands are theoretical and rootless. The poet converses with goats and throws a fit at a tarot reading; she loves the intimacy of strangers during turbulent plane rides and has dark fantasies about the “hydrogen fruit” of nuclear fallout. Ultimately, these poems possess an affection for the doomed: false beloveds, the hounded earth, civilizations intent on their own ruin. Fernandes skillfully interrogates where to put our fury and, more importantly, where to direct our mercy.

Naomi Shihab Nye is one of the most beloved poets in America, and the poem "Famous" is literally her most famous poem. It has been used in countless commencement speeches—from elementary school to university graduations. At once simple and profound, this illustrated version of the poem is a charmingly ironic take on what it means to be "famous." It is a perfect gift book for people of all ages—for those who need encouragement, who are at a crossroads, who are graduating, who are nervous about the future, or who want to be more or other than they are.