Glad Stone Children

by Edmund Berrigan

Poetry. GLAD STONE CHILDREN is Edmund Berrigan's third collection of poetry. His previous work includes DISARMING MATTER and Your Cheatin' Heart. Son of noted poet, Ted Berrigan, Edmund has a style all his own; GLAD STONE CHILDREN has a musicality and flow of consciousness. He considers the romantic and the political as well as praise and critique for lyric. "Eddie Berrigan gives a nod to his lineage, acknowledging his upbringing as poetry's child. Berrigan's music, laced with undercurrents of violence and tension, is elegant and hysterically absurd by turns. These poems are a blueprint for a new generation of young American Poets"-Brenda Coultas. Praise for GLAD STONE CHILDREN and Edmund Berrigan is never-ending: He is a "rare sort of spy for the imperfect pitch"-John Coletti.

Genres: Poetry

81 pages, paperback

First published January 1, 2008

Reviews

[C.A. · Rating 5 out of 5]

For years now I've been A BIG FAN of Edmund Berrigan's poems and songs. His book DISARMING MATTER is one of those magical books you won't allow anyone to borrow, if you're smart, because chances are you'll never get it back.

This new book GLAD STONE CHILDREN is very new, and different in the new from his first book. The authority of these lines isn't to direct as much as splay at the foot of the reader. Shit, does that make sense? I'm trying to convey my feelings about it.

I was on the Chinatown Bus heading from NY to Philly and shoved cotton from an aspirin bottle into my ears to REALLY SPLAY myself at the foot of the book. "jumping from speckled logfire" made me GASP outloud, reading it over and over, "threw it out the window carbonized atoms smarter than Camus" WOW, WOW, WOW, OVER, WOW, AND OVER, WOW.

This is a book where it's impossible to come up with a FAVORITE POEM. So let me settle for ONE OF my favorites:


Who wilts keeps breath up

Who wilts keeps breath up
meets spelt from the speaker
I am no longer inside this plastic parts
stumble into my explorer
I am colliding with my friends
in hopes we will prove rooted
but they move away to see how deep their root is
I am not above anything anymore
and trying to come back to it
where are made skeleton fairies
who don't do anything at all
but are otherwise personally useful


Now, does this make more sense about what I wrote above that the, "authority of these lines isn't to direct as much as splay at the foot of the reader."? There is a humble message, so humble it's absorbed sometimes and we don't even understand it right away. There's a quiet undertow of magic at work here. My fucking god I do LOVE this book! It's a fire to get near, cold or not, especially if you're already too warm. Let it fucking burn you up!

YOU WILL LOVE THIS BOOK!
CAConrad
http://CAConrad.blogspot.com


...

[Steve · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sure wish I'd written this line:

"...totally reading someone's paper whilst they doth pee...".

A brilliant book of poems that completely disarranges the possibilities of language. Truly awe inspiring.

[Emma · Rating 1 out of 5]

This poetry collection felt like a joke I was meant to laugh at but didn't.

Just not my style.

[Sparrow .]

A voyage within a seaworthy room, a room of access. I was surprised how many of these poems are about God -- maybe all of them. "Poems are spiritual ponies." (That's a proverb I just invented.) Eddie writes in response to the poetry of Ted Berrigan. As do I. Which is logical, because I studied with Ted for two semesters at the City College of New York, and Ted was Eddie's father.

These poems are new, announcing a poesy-arrival. Who are the "glad stone children"? Are they stoned? Is the "stone" the earth? Are they related to the great song "Everybody Must Get Stoned" by Bob Dylan (which, of course, is actually entitled "Rainy Day Women #12 and 35" -- itself an abstract poem)?