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Old Heart: Poems - Plumly, Stanley
book is out-of-stock
(*)
Plumly, Stanley:

Old Heart: Poems - Paperback

2007, ISBN: 9780393065688

Hardcover, ID: 858953933

New York: Harlequin Enterprises. Very Good- with no dust jacket. 1994. Mass Market Paperback. 0373288433 . Pb, light wear/soil, crease at spine, front label, spine markings, chkout sheet on 1st pg, libstamp on title/last txt pgs; (Harlequin Historical Romance Series, No. 243) ; Ex-Library; 12mo 7" - 7½" tall; 377 pages; <B>Return To Whitehorn, Montana, where a lone maverick out for justice forged a legend . . . </B> <P>Mail-order bride Haley Winthrop came to Big Sky Country with big dreams of a home and husband, until a soft-spoken cowboy with haunted eyes stole her heart away from her fiance and took her heart hostage. <P>Jesse Kincaid had vowed to bring down the man who'd had his father killed -- and what better way to start than by kidnapping his bride-to-be? But he hadn't planned on falling for his own prisoner, and though Jesse'd sworn off love forever, something in Haley's blazing kisses promised eternity. ., Harlequin Enterprises, 1994, New York: Harlequin Enterprises. Good with no dust jacket. 2001. Mass Market Paperback. 0373834861 . Pb, light wear/soil, crease at spine/lower front cover, nick at lower spine, front label, spine markings, chkout sheet/initials on 1st pg, libstamp on 1st/title/last txt pgs; (Harlequin Historical Romance Series, No. 419) ; Ex-Library; 12mo 7" - 7½" tall; 296 pages; <B>Return To Whitehorn, Montana, where a lone maverick out for justice forged a legend . . . </B> <P>Mail-order bride Haley Winthrop came to Big Sky Country with big dreams of a home and husband, until a soft-spoken cowboy with haunted eyes stole her heart away from her fiance and took her heart hostage. <P>Jesse Kincaid had vowed to bring down the man who'd had his father killed -- and what better way to start than by kidnapping his bride-to-be? But he hadn't planned on falling for his own prisoner, and though Jesse'd sworn off love forever, something in Haley's blazing kisses promised eternity. ., Harlequin Enterprises, 2001, New York, New York, U.S.A.: Tor Books, 2000. Book. Illus. by Cornell, George. Very Good. Mass Market Paperback. 6.7 x 4.2 x 0.8 inches. Dent on the bottom of the spine. Otherwise pages are tight and clean. Sands returns to the strange and haunting world of the ancient Mayan civilization, and to Sky Knife, the young priest who defeated those who would topple his people's city. In his new story, he must go to the distant kingdom of the Teotihuan, to reopen diplomatic ties with these strange people. When their king is killed and bad luck seems to descend upon the kingdom, it is left to Sky Knife to solve the riddle of his death -- or he will be slaughtered in the killer's stead.., Tor Books, 2000, New York: Bantam Books, 1984. This 4.25 x 7 softcover has 176 pages. The haunting tale of a silver-skinned visitor from beyond the sky, and his strange part in this dark and bloody pageant.. Soft Cover. Very Good., Bantam Books, 1984, 1st Book Library, 2001-04-03. Paperback. Very Good. Buy with confidence. Excellent Customer Service & Return policy. Ships Fast. Expedite Shipping Available., 1st Book Library, 2001-04-03, Grove Press. 1996. Paperback. Near Fine. From the acclaimed writer Susan Minot, author of Monkeys, Lust & Other Stor ies, and Folly, and the legendary filmmaker Bernardo Bertolucci, director o f Last Tango in Paris, The Last Emperor (winner of nine Academy Awards, inc luding Best Director and Best Picture), The Sheltering Sky, and Little Budd ha, comes a hauntingly beautiful film about innocence, seduction, and the p ain and pleasures of youth. Following the death of her mother, nineteen-yea r-old Lucy Harmon is sent by her father to Italy to stay with old family fr iends and to have her portrait done. She is eager to renew her acquaintance with Niccolo Donati, the handsome young boy from a neighboring family with whom she shared her first kiss on a visit years earlier, and anxious to so lve a riddle left in her mother's diary - the answer to which may change Lu cy's life forever., Grove Press, 1996, Vintage Books. 2007. Paperback. Very Good. A copy that has been read, but is in excellent condition. Pages are intact and not marred by notes or highlighting. The spine remains undamaged. A glittering collection of short stories set in Tibet from one of China's f oremost writers -- banned in China for its language, sexuality and picture of Tibet. A Chinese writer whose marriage has fallen apart travels to Tibet. As he wa nders through the countryside, he witnesses the sky burial of a Tibetan wom an who died during childbirth, shares a tent with a nomad who is walking to a sacred mountain to seek forgiveness for sleeping with his daughter, meet s a silversmith who has hung the wind-dried corpse of his lover to the wall s of his cave, and hears the story of a young female incarnate lama who die d during a Buddhist initiation rite. In the thin air of the high plateau, t he divide between fact and fiction becomes confused and the man is drawn de ep into an alien culture he knew nothing about, and which haunts his dreams . Famously banned in China in 1987, Stick Out Your Tongue, is the book that set Ma Jian on the road to exile, and still makes it difficult for him to publish his work in China today. Written shortly after the journey to Tibet he describes so vividly in his prize-winnning travel memoir Red Dust, it is an extraordinary collection of stories about an extraordinary place -- a picture of Tibet that is both enchanting and horrifying, violent and beautiful, perverse and seductive. Ma Jian has written a new afterword for the book that explains it's title (it is what a doctor says to an ill patient when looking for a diagnosis) how it came to be written and something, Vintage Books, 2007, Vision. 2001. Paperback. Very Good+. A crisp clean softcover, no markings throughout: "Things fall apart, the center cannot hold." Yeats's words seem fitting fo r the slowly disintegrating Airie family and their son Pilot, a schizophren ic. Twenty years ago, Pilot's little sister, Fiona, disappeared. In the af termath, the Airie family fell apart--"unraveled," Pilot observes. Old sin s have long shadows, and Pilot both welcomes and fears the darkness those shadows offer. His memories of Fiona's disappearance haunt him, but they a re also an anchor to a past that seems more authentic than the present. Pilot's schizophrenia is all the more poignant contrasted with the poise of his older brother Eric, a prominent neurosurgeon. Eric is the one who comes to his mother's rescue when she is stranded on the highway, unable to see to drive home after Pilot's attempt to help her devolves into a terrifying, emotional paralysis: Did they know that things had become transparent again, clear as a blue sky seen through blue water? That I could actually see the cancer forming like a tulip bulb at the base of my mother's optical nerve? I could look through the trees all the way to the highway, through her car, and through her hair and skin and cartilage and bone into the folds of tissue around her eyes, to see the muscles dilating, the tendrils of nerves and vessels of blood, and the radical cells dividing there, and dividing again. Division also lies at the core of the relationship between Pilot and Eric. Drifting between past and present, the narrative reveals a long history of cruelty and abuse, which, after festering for years, erupts into what Eric's therapist, Vision, 2001, The History Press. Used - Acceptable. Ships from the UK. Former Library book. Shows definite wear, and perhaps considerable marking on inside., The History Press, The History Press. Used - Very Good. Ships from the UK. Former Library book. Great condition for a used book! Minimal wear., The History Press, Paperback. New. Who can say what the night might bring? Mummy tucking you up with Teddy and a cup of Ovaltine? Fireworks and frivolity? A party? Music? Dancing? Or you could be reading in bed, between clean linen sheets before falling into deep and restful sleep and sweet dreams. And who knows; the night might bring romance, or love, or sex, if you play your cards right. Or you might be working; millions of people work at night. If nobody worked at night, Britain would cease to function. Or the night might be cold, haunted, inhuman and wild. When you look up into the night sky, you see that you are nothing. An insignificant mote of dust. Or the night could be all too human. Hen parties in skimpy dresses and fairy wings being slammed into the back of a police van; girls working on street corners in the part of town where the lights don't come on; businessmen going to lap-dancing clubs to forget what waits at home. Or you could die. Most people do die at night. Or you could just lie awake and wait for the dawn. Set over the course of an intoxicated night in a house up a mountain in West Cork, Ian Marchant offers a darkly funny account of what people get up to at night, explores his own experience of a life of night times, and shows us how we all have something of the night about us., Holt Rinehart Winston, 1966. First Edition. Hardcover. Fair Condition/No Dust Jacket. Illustrator: Nesbitt, esta. Ex-library with typical marks, rebound; some yellowing, light stains; a good solid book. "Since the dawn of history, men have gazed at the stars and seen in them beautiful pictures, entrancing stories-signs of destiny. Now from the folklore of primitive peoples Natlia Belting creates her own haunting tales of the mysterious 'ornaments of the sky'." Illustrator: Nesbitt, esta. Quantity Available: 1. Shipped Weight: Standard Weight. Category: Children's; Inventory No: 138337. ., Holt Rinehart Winston, 1966, W. W. Norton & Company, 2007-09-17. Hardcover. New. 0393065685 The Barnes & Noble Review Wallace Stevens taught us that "Death is the mother of beauty." Mortality hovers over Stanley Plumly's tenth book, lending it a veiled and subtle beauty. Butterflies slip "through more molting lives / than saints --"; elsewhere "spirit birds" fly through "The spirit world the negative of this one; / soft outlines of soft whites against soft darks"; the narrator's own mother lies becalmed on hard white sheets, the narrative of legs, arms, animal centers stilled, some starlight in the mind glittering off and on, couldn't tell me whether or not to leave her The keystone sequence, "Elevens" -- comprising eleven poems, of eleven lines each -- takes us straight into the heart of mortality's dilemma. The poet's own "old heart" reveals itself, "lit up on the screen, / the arteries, veins and ventricles." Plumly centers his poetry inside the embodied world -- air, snow, mountains, trees, grass, animals, insects. His lines have a sinuous and subtle beauty, like smoke. Yet they light up again and again in pure radiance. Poets speak to one another across time and space in their poetry. In Old Heart, Plumley converses with Pound, Stevens, Eliot, and Keats, and with his contemporaries: Donald Justice, Michael Collier, Henri Cole. As the list suggests, this is a curiously masculine book, like Melville's Ishmael adrift on the sea. It is also wide-rangingly philosophical, understated, modest, and, ultimately, hauntingly exquisite. --Liz Rosenberg From the Publisher In his new collection of poetry, Plumly confronts and celebrates mortality in the natural world, in the immediacy of loss of friends, and in personal encounters. Publishers Weekly The eighth gathering of poems from Plumly (Now That My Father Lies Down Beside Me) offers many beauties but few surprises. Onrushing, almost whispering, pentameters, divided into lyric meditations, depict the winters, summers, springs, snows, fogs, skies and greenery of Europe and of the American East Coast, where Plumly resides. We see "a winter city, night city, streetlights/ blurred in mist" (Prague); "glittering halves of oyster shells"; "first crocuses and the lavender called redbud" blooming on a college campus; even, in one poem called "Pastoral," the "complexities of leaves,/ the umbels, whorls, bracts, and involucres." Plumly remains as much a poet of elegy as he is a poet of nature: odes and memorials to other poets, living and dead, show "how we all change with time but don't." Plumly can seem morbid, or bathetic, as in a sonnet called "When He Fell Backwards into His Coffin," about a corpse found in a bathtub; he can also seem content with mere prettiness, speaking nothing but "Summer's/ language like sunlight on stone, light itself the stone." Yet Plumly has admirers for good reason: few poets have sounded so often so comfortable at once with the recollections and strong emotions involved in autobiography, and with attention to a beautiful natural world. (Sept.)Copyright 2007 Reed Business Information The Barnes & Noble Review Wallace Stevens taught us that "Death is the mother of beauty." Mortality hovers over Stanley Plumly's tenth book, lending it a veiled and subtle beauty. Butterflies slip "through more molting lives / than saints --"; elsewhere "spirit birds" fly through "The spirit world the negative of this one; / soft outlines of soft whites against soft darks"; the narrator's own mother lies becalmed on hard white sheets, the narrative of legs, arms, animal centers stilled, some starlight in the mind glittering off and on, couldn't tell me whether or not to leave her The keystone sequence, "Elevens" -- comprising eleven poems, of eleven lines each -- takes us straight into the heart of mortality's dilemma. The poet's own "old heart" reveals itself, "lit up on the screen, / the arteries, veins and ventricles." Plumly centers his poetry inside the embodied world -- air, snow, mountains, trees, grass, animals, insects. His lines have a sinuous and subtle beauty, like smoke. Yet they light up again and again in pure radiance. Poe, W. W. Norton & Company, 2007-09-17

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Old Heart: Poems - Plumly, Stanley
book is out-of-stock
(*)

Plumly, Stanley:

Old Heart: Poems - Paperback

2008, ISBN: 9780393065688

Hardcover, ID: 869889316

London: John Murray, 1996. Illustrated with a few line drawings by Janina Slater, pp (8), 274, paperback, very slight signs of wear, binding leaning slightly. Postage will be reduced. [This book is for all those who love Kim, that masterpiece of Indian life in which Kipling immortalized the Great Game. Fascinated since childhood by this strange tale of an orphan boy's recruitment into the Indian secret service, Peter Hopkirk here retraces Kim's footsteps across Kipling's India to see how much of it remains. To attempt this with a fictional hero would normally be pointless. But Kim is different. For much of this Great Game classic was inspired by actual people and places, thus blurring the line between the real and the imaginary. Less a travel book than a literary detective story, this is the intriguing story of Peter Hopkirk's quest for Kim and a host of other shadowy figures.]. First Edition. Paperback. Very Good., John Murray, 1996, Covers have some wear.Tree of Smoke is the 2007 National Book Award Winner for Fiction.One of the New York Times 10 Best Books of the YearNamed a Best Book of the Year by Time, The Washington Post, The Boston Globe, Chicago Tribune, San Francisco Chronicle, Salon, Slate, The National Book Critics Circle, The Christian Science Monitor. . . .Tree of Smoke is the story of William "Skip" Sands, CIA--engaged in Pschological Operations against the Vietcong--and the disasters that befall him. It is also the story of the Houston brothers, Bill and James, young men who drift out of the Arizona desert and into a war where the line between disinformation and delusion has blurred away. In the words of Michiko Kakutani in The New York Times, Tree of Smoke is "bound to become one of the classic works of literature produced by that tragic and uncannily familiar war."720 pages, Picador, 2008, W. W. Norton & Company, 2007-09-17. Hardcover. New. 0393065685 The Barnes & Noble Review Wallace Stevens taught us that "Death is the mother of beauty." Mortality hovers over Stanley Plumly's tenth book, lending it a veiled and subtle beauty. Butterflies slip "through more molting lives / than saints --"; elsewhere "spirit birds" fly through "The spirit world the negative of this one; / soft outlines of soft whites against soft darks"; the narrator's own mother lies becalmed on hard white sheets, the narrative of legs, arms, animal centers stilled, some starlight in the mind glittering off and on, couldn't tell me whether or not to leave her The keystone sequence, "Elevens" -- comprising eleven poems, of eleven lines each -- takes us straight into the heart of mortality's dilemma. The poet's own "old heart" reveals itself, "lit up on the screen, / the arteries, veins and ventricles." Plumly centers his poetry inside the embodied world -- air, snow, mountains, trees, grass, animals, insects. His lines have a sinuous and subtle beauty, like smoke. Yet they light up again and again in pure radiance. Poets speak to one another across time and space in their poetry. In Old Heart, Plumley converses with Pound, Stevens, Eliot, and Keats, and with his contemporaries: Donald Justice, Michael Collier, Henri Cole. As the list suggests, this is a curiously masculine book, like Melville's Ishmael adrift on the sea. It is also wide-rangingly philosophical, understated, modest, and, ultimately, hauntingly exquisite. --Liz Rosenberg From the Publisher In his new collection of poetry, Plumly confronts and celebrates mortality in the natural world, in the immediacy of loss of friends, and in personal encounters. Publishers Weekly The eighth gathering of poems from Plumly (Now That My Father Lies Down Beside Me) offers many beauties but few surprises. Onrushing, almost whispering, pentameters, divided into lyric meditations, depict the winters, summers, springs, snows, fogs, skies and greenery of Europe and of the American East Coast, where Plumly resides. We see "a winter city, night city, streetlights/ blurred in mist" (Prague); "glittering halves of oyster shells"; "first crocuses and the lavender called redbud" blooming on a college campus; even, in one poem called "Pastoral," the "complexities of leaves,/ the umbels, whorls, bracts, and involucres." Plumly remains as much a poet of elegy as he is a poet of nature: odes and memorials to other poets, living and dead, show "how we all change with time but don't." Plumly can seem morbid, or bathetic, as in a sonnet called "When He Fell Backwards into His Coffin," about a corpse found in a bathtub; he can also seem content with mere prettiness, speaking nothing but "Summer's/ language like sunlight on stone, light itself the stone." Yet Plumly has admirers for good reason: few poets have sounded so often so comfortable at once with the recollections and strong emotions involved in autobiography, and with attention to a beautiful natural world. (Sept.)Copyright 2007 Reed Business Information The Barnes & Noble Review Wallace Stevens taught us that "Death is the mother of beauty." Mortality hovers over Stanley Plumly's tenth book, lending it a veiled and subtle beauty. Butterflies slip "through more molting lives / than saints --"; elsewhere "spirit birds" fly through "The spirit world the negative of this one; / soft outlines of soft whites against soft darks"; the narrator's own mother lies becalmed on hard white sheets, the narrative of legs, arms, animal centers stilled, some starlight in the mind glittering off and on, couldn't tell me whether or not to leave her The keystone sequence, "Elevens" -- comprising eleven poems, of eleven lines each -- takes us straight into the heart of mortality's dilemma. The poet's own "old heart" reveals itself, "lit up on the screen, / the arteries, veins and ventricles." Plumly centers his poetry inside the embodied world -- air, snow, mountains, trees, grass, animals, insects. His lines have a sinuous and subtle beauty, like smoke. Yet they light up again and again in pure radiance. Poe, W. W. Norton & Company, 2007-09-17

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Mike Park Ltd, honigsbooks, GuthrieBooks
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Old Heart: Poems - Plumly, Stanley
book is out-of-stock
(*)
Plumly, Stanley:
Old Heart: Poems - Paperback

2007

ISBN: 9780393065688

Hardcover, ID: 199565444

New York, New York, U.S.A.: Pocket Books, 1997. Paperback. Very Good. By human standards it could not possibly have been artificial: It was the size of a world. But it was so oddly and intricately shaped, so clearly intended for some complex purpose that it could only have been the expression of an idea. Gliding in polar orbit about the great blue-white star, it resembled some immense, imperfect polyhedron, encrusted with millions of bowl shaped barnacles. Every bowl was aimed at a particular part of the sky. Every constellation was being attended to. The polyhedral world had been performing its enigmatic function for eons. It was very patient. It could afford to wait forever. WHEN THEY pulled her out, she was not crying at all. Her tiny brow was wrinkled, and then her eyes grew wide. She looked at the bright lights, the white- and greenclad figures, the woman lying on the table below her. Somehow familiar sounds washed over her. On her face was an odd expression for a newborn-puzzlement perhaps. When she was two years old, she would lift her hands over her head and say very sweetly, ''Dada, up." His friends expressed surprise. The baby was polite. "It's not politeness," her father told them. "She used to scream when she wanted to be picked up. So once I said to her, 'Ellie, you don't have to scream. Just say, "Daddy, up.'" Kids are smart. Right, Presh?" So now she was up all right, at a giddy altitude, perched on her father's shoulders and clutching his thinning hair. Life was better up here, far safer than crawling through a forest of legs. Somebody could step on you down there. You could get lost. She tightened her grip. ISBN 0-671-00410-7 01-29-17, Pocket Books, 1997, W. W. Norton & Company, 2007-09-17. Hardcover. New. 0393065685 The Barnes & Noble Review Wallace Stevens taught us that "Death is the mother of beauty." Mortality hovers over Stanley Plumly's tenth book, lending it a veiled and subtle beauty. Butterflies slip "through more molting lives / than saints --"; elsewhere "spirit birds" fly through "The spirit world the negative of this one; / soft outlines of soft whites against soft darks"; the narrator's own mother lies becalmed on hard white sheets, the narrative of legs, arms, animal centers stilled, some starlight in the mind glittering off and on, couldn't tell me whether or not to leave her The keystone sequence, "Elevens" -- comprising eleven poems, of eleven lines each -- takes us straight into the heart of mortality's dilemma. The poet's own "old heart" reveals itself, "lit up on the screen, / the arteries, veins and ventricles." Plumly centers his poetry inside the embodied world -- air, snow, mountains, trees, grass, animals, insects. His lines have a sinuous and subtle beauty, like smoke. Yet they light up again and again in pure radiance. Poets speak to one another across time and space in their poetry. In Old Heart, Plumley converses with Pound, Stevens, Eliot, and Keats, and with his contemporaries: Donald Justice, Michael Collier, Henri Cole. As the list suggests, this is a curiously masculine book, like Melville's Ishmael adrift on the sea. It is also wide-rangingly philosophical, understated, modest, and, ultimately, hauntingly exquisite. --Liz Rosenberg From the Publisher In his new collection of poetry, Plumly confronts and celebrates mortality in the natural world, in the immediacy of loss of friends, and in personal encounters. Publishers Weekly The eighth gathering of poems from Plumly (Now That My Father Lies Down Beside Me) offers many beauties but few surprises. Onrushing, almost whispering, pentameters, divided into lyric meditations, depict the winters, summers, springs, snows, fogs, skies and greenery of Europe and of the American East Coast, where Plumly resides. We see "a winter city, night city, streetlights/ blurred in mist" (Prague); "glittering halves of oyster shells"; "first crocuses and the lavender called redbud" blooming on a college campus; even, in one poem called "Pastoral," the "complexities of leaves,/ the umbels, whorls, bracts, and involucres." Plumly remains as much a poet of elegy as he is a poet of nature: odes and memorials to other poets, living and dead, show "how we all change with time but don't." Plumly can seem morbid, or bathetic, as in a sonnet called "When He Fell Backwards into His Coffin," about a corpse found in a bathtub; he can also seem content with mere prettiness, speaking nothing but "Summer's/ language like sunlight on stone, light itself the stone." Yet Plumly has admirers for good reason: few poets have sounded so often so comfortable at once with the recollections and strong emotions involved in autobiography, and with attention to a beautiful natural world. (Sept.)Copyright 2007 Reed Business Information The Barnes & Noble Review Wallace Stevens taught us that "Death is the mother of beauty." Mortality hovers over Stanley Plumly's tenth book, lending it a veiled and subtle beauty. Butterflies slip "through more molting lives / than saints --"; elsewhere "spirit birds" fly through "The spirit world the negative of this one; / soft outlines of soft whites against soft darks"; the narrator's own mother lies becalmed on hard white sheets, the narrative of legs, arms, animal centers stilled, some starlight in the mind glittering off and on, couldn't tell me whether or not to leave her The keystone sequence, "Elevens" -- comprising eleven poems, of eleven lines each -- takes us straight into the heart of mortality's dilemma. The poet's own "old heart" reveals itself, "lit up on the screen, / the arteries, veins and ventricles." Plumly centers his poetry inside the embodied world -- air, snow, mountains, trees, grass, animals, insects. His lines have a sinuous and subtle beauty, like smoke. Yet they light up again and again in pure radiance. Poe, W. W. Norton & Company, 2007-09-17

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D and C Books, GuthrieBooks
Shipping costs: EUR 23.73
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Old Heart: Poems - Plumly, Stanley
book is out-of-stock
(*)
Plumly, Stanley:
Old Heart: Poems - hardcover

2007, ISBN: 9780393065688

ID: 702387639

Knopf Books for Young Readers. Used - Acceptable. Former Library book. Shows definite wear, and perhaps considerable marking on inside. Find out why millions of customers rave about Better World Books. Experience the best customer care and a 100% satisfaction guarantee., Knopf Books for Young Readers, W. W. Norton & Company, 2007-09-17. Hardcover. New. 0393065685 The Barnes & Noble Review Wallace Stevens taught us that "Death is the mother of beauty." Mortality hovers over Stanley Plumly's tenth book, lending it a veiled and subtle beauty. Butterflies slip "through more molting lives / than saints --"; elsewhere "spirit birds" fly through "The spirit world the negative of this one; / soft outlines of soft whites against soft darks"; the narrator's own mother lies becalmed on hard white sheets, the narrative of legs, arms, animal centers stilled, some starlight in the mind glittering off and on, couldn't tell me whether or not to leave her The keystone sequence, "Elevens" -- comprising eleven poems, of eleven lines each -- takes us straight into the heart of mortality's dilemma. The poet's own "old heart" reveals itself, "lit up on the screen, / the arteries, veins and ventricles." Plumly centers his poetry inside the embodied world -- air, snow, mountains, trees, grass, animals, insects. His lines have a sinuous and subtle beauty, like smoke. Yet they light up again and again in pure radiance. Poets speak to one another across time and space in their poetry. In Old Heart, Plumley converses with Pound, Stevens, Eliot, and Keats, and with his contemporaries: Donald Justice, Michael Collier, Henri Cole. As the list suggests, this is a curiously masculine book, like Melville's Ishmael adrift on the sea. It is also wide-rangingly philosophical, understated, modest, and, ultimately, hauntingly exquisite. --Liz Rosenberg From the Publisher In his new collection of poetry, Plumly confronts and celebrates mortality in the natural world, in the immediacy of loss of friends, and in personal encounters. Publishers Weekly The eighth gathering of poems from Plumly (Now That My Father Lies Down Beside Me) offers many beauties but few surprises. Onrushing, almost whispering, pentameters, divided into lyric meditations, depict the winters, summers, springs, snows, fogs, skies and greenery of Europe and of the American East Coast, where Plumly resides. We see "a winter city, night city, streetlights/ blurred in mist" (Prague); "glittering halves of oyster shells"; "first crocuses and the lavender called redbud" blooming on a college campus; even, in one poem called "Pastoral," the "complexities of leaves,/ the umbels, whorls, bracts, and involucres." Plumly remains as much a poet of elegy as he is a poet of nature: odes and memorials to other poets, living and dead, show "how we all change with time but don't." Plumly can seem morbid, or bathetic, as in a sonnet called "When He Fell Backwards into His Coffin," about a corpse found in a bathtub; he can also seem content with mere prettiness, speaking nothing but "Summer's/ language like sunlight on stone, light itself the stone." Yet Plumly has admirers for good reason: few poets have sounded so often so comfortable at once with the recollections and strong emotions involved in autobiography, and with attention to a beautiful natural world. (Sept.)Copyright 2007 Reed Business Information The Barnes & Noble Review Wallace Stevens taught us that "Death is the mother of beauty." Mortality hovers over Stanley Plumly's tenth book, lending it a veiled and subtle beauty. Butterflies slip "through more molting lives / than saints --"; elsewhere "spirit birds" fly through "The spirit world the negative of this one; / soft outlines of soft whites against soft darks"; the narrator's own mother lies becalmed on hard white sheets, the narrative of legs, arms, animal centers stilled, some starlight in the mind glittering off and on, couldn't tell me whether or not to leave her The keystone sequence, "Elevens" -- comprising eleven poems, of eleven lines each -- takes us straight into the heart of mortality's dilemma. The poet's own "old heart" reveals itself, "lit up on the screen, / the arteries, veins and ventricles." Plumly centers his poetry inside the embodied world -- air, snow, mountains, trees, grass, animals, insects. His lines have a sinuous and subtle beauty, like smoke. Yet they light up again and again in pure radiance. Poe, W. W. Norton & Company, 2007-09-17

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Better World Books, GuthrieBooks
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Old Heart: Poems - Plumly, Stanley
book is out-of-stock
(*)
Plumly, Stanley:
Old Heart: Poems - hardcover

2007, ISBN: 9780393065688

ID: 244442397

W. W. Norton & Company, 2007-09-17. Hardcover. New. 0393065685 The Barnes & Noble Review Wallace Stevens taught us that "Death is the mother of beauty." Mortality hovers over Stanley Plumly's tenth book, lending it a veiled and subtle beauty. Butterflies slip "through more molting lives / than saints --"; elsewhere "spirit birds" fly through "The spirit world the negative of this one; / soft outlines of soft whites against soft darks"; the narrator's own mother lies becalmed on hard white sheets, the narrative of legs, arms, animal centers stilled, some starlight in the mind glittering off and on, couldn't tell me whether or not to leave her The keystone sequence, "Elevens" -- comprising eleven poems, of eleven lines each -- takes us straight into the heart of mortality's dilemma. The poet's own "old heart" reveals itself, "lit up on the screen, / the arteries, veins and ventricles." Plumly centers his poetry inside the embodied world -- air, snow, mountains, trees, grass, animals, insects. His lines have a sinuous and subtle beauty, like smoke. Yet they light up again and again in pure radiance. Poets speak to one another across time and space in their poetry. In Old Heart, Plumley converses with Pound, Stevens, Eliot, and Keats, and with his contemporaries: Donald Justice, Michael Collier, Henri Cole. As the list suggests, this is a curiously masculine book, like Melville's Ishmael adrift on the sea. It is also wide-rangingly philosophical, understated, modest, and, ultimately, hauntingly exquisite. --Liz Rosenberg From the Publisher In his new collection of poetry, Plumly confronts and celebrates mortality in the natural world, in the immediacy of loss of friends, and in personal encounters. Publishers Weekly The eighth gathering of poems from Plumly (Now That My Father Lies Down Beside Me) offers many beauties but few surprises. Onrushing, almost whispering, pentameters, divided into lyric meditations, depict the winters, summers, springs, snows, fogs, skies and greenery of Europe and of the American East Coast, where Plumly resides. We see "a winter city, night city, streetlights/ blurred in mist" (Prague); "glittering halves of oyster shells"; "first crocuses and the lavender called redbud" blooming on a college campus; even, in one poem called "Pastoral," the "complexities of leaves,/ the umbels, whorls, bracts, and involucres." Plumly remains as much a poet of elegy as he is a poet of nature: odes and memorials to other poets, living and dead, show "how we all change with time but don't." Plumly can seem morbid, or bathetic, as in a sonnet called "When He Fell Backwards into His Coffin," about a corpse found in a bathtub; he can also seem content with mere prettiness, speaking nothing but "Summer's/ language like sunlight on stone, light itself the stone." Yet Plumly has admirers for good reason: few poets have sounded so often so comfortable at once with the recollections and strong emotions involved in autobiography, and with attention to a beautiful natural world. (Sept.)Copyright 2007 Reed Business Information The Barnes & Noble Review Wallace Stevens taught us that "Death is the mother of beauty." Mortality hovers over Stanley Plumly's tenth book, lending it a veiled and subtle beauty. Butterflies slip "through more molting lives / than saints --"; elsewhere "spirit birds" fly through "The spirit world the negative of this one; / soft outlines of soft whites against soft darks"; the narrator's own mother lies becalmed on hard white sheets, the narrative of legs, arms, animal centers stilled, some starlight in the mind glittering off and on, couldn't tell me whether or not to leave her The keystone sequence, "Elevens" -- comprising eleven poems, of eleven lines each -- takes us straight into the heart of mortality's dilemma. The poet's own "old heart" reveals itself, "lit up on the screen, / the arteries, veins and ventricles." Plumly centers his poetry inside the embodied world -- air, snow, mountains, trees, grass, animals, insects. His lines have a sinuous and subtle beauty, like smoke. Yet they light up again and again in pure radiance. Poe, W. W. Norton & Company, 2007-09-17

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Details of the book
Old Heart: Poems
Author:

Plumly, Stanley

Title:

Old Heart: Poems

ISBN:

9780393065688

"Successor to James Wright and John Keats, with a marvelous ear for the music of contemplation."--Rita Dove In his new collection, Stanley Plumly confronts and celebrates mortality--in the detailed natural world, in the immediacy of the loss of friends, and in personal encounters. Archetypal, sometimes even allegorical, the poems in Old Heart amount to a sustained meditation. The American Academy of Arts and Letters declared of Plumly that "he has in the last thirty years quietly, steadily, expanded the range of lyric poetry in English...(and) reinvigorated our poetry." His ethical rigor and literary modesty combine in "Old Heart"--his finest book of poetry.

Details of the book - Old Heart: Poems


EAN (ISBN-13): 9780393065688
ISBN (ISBN-10): 0393065685
Hardcover
Paperback
Publishing year: 2007
Publisher: W W NORTON & CO
96 Pages
Weight: 0,249 kg
Language: eng/Englisch

Book in our database since 07.03.2008 00:04:42
Book found last time on 23.03.2017 21:42:10
ISBN/EAN: 9780393065688

ISBN - alternate spelling:
0-393-06568-5, 978-0-393-06568-8

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