This is a story about a woman named Sunny, who follows dreams that are initiated by tricksters Raven and then Coyote. On her adventure to a remote Indian reservation in the Plains, she is guided by a ghost named Black Bart and a spiritual Monster Woman named Tsonaqua the Basket Ogress. Although she is battered around in her clashes with the new life, she learns how love, compassion, respect and honor can heal the wounds.
¡ POETRY !
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No pretensions: just poetry. Stop by, recommend books, offer up poems (excerpted), tempt us, taunt us, tell us what to read and where to go (to read iNo pretensions: just poetry.
Stop by, recommend books, offer up poems (excerpted), tempt us, taunt us, tell us what to read and where to go (to read it!)
Goodreads honors wordsmiths: poets and poetry promoted and prompted here.
"Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits." -- Carl Sandburg
“God has a brown voice, as soft and full as beer.” —Anne Sexton
On Clouds – “…what primitive tastes the ancients must have had if their poets were inspired by those absurd, untidy clumps of mist, idiotically jostling one another about…” —Yevgeny Zamyatin
“If the poet wants to be a poet, the poet must force the poet to revise. If the poet doesn’t wish to revise, let the poet abandon poetry and take up stamp-collecting or real estate.” —Donald Hall
“Poetry is a rich, full-bodied whistle, cracked ice crunching in pails, the night that numbs the leaf, the duel of two nightingales, the sweet pea that has run wild, Creation’s tears in shoulder blades.” —Boris Pasternak
“Wanted: a needle swift enough to sew this poem into a blanket.” —Charles Simic
“Language is a cracked kettle on which we beat out tunes for bears to dance to, while all the time we long to move the stars to pity.” —Gustave Flaubert
“Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It’s that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that’s what the poet does.” —Allen Ginsberg
“I think one of poetry’s functions is not to give us what we want… [T]he poet isn’t always of use to the tribe. The tribe thrives on the consensual. The tribe is pulling together to face the intruder who threatens it. Meanwhile, the poet is sitting by himself in the graveyard talking to a skull.” —Heather McHugh
“I am ashamed of my century, but I have to smile” —Frank O’Hara