Good Poems

Product Description America's beloved author, humorist, and storyteller offers a selection of meaningful and enjoyable poems Every day people tune in to The Writer's Almanac on public radio and hear Garrison Keillor read them a poem. And here, for the first time, is an anthology of poems from the show, chosen by Keillor for their wit, their frankness, their passion, their "utter clarity in the face of everything else a person has to deal with at 7 a.m." Good Poems includes verse about lovers, children, failure, everyday life, death, and transcendance. It features the work of classic poets, such as Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman, and Robert Frost, as well as the work of contemporary greats such as Howard Nemerov, Charles Bukowski, Donald Hall, Billy Collins, Robert Bly, and Sharon Olds. It's a book of poems for anybody who loves poetry whether they know it or not. Review "A pretty dandy candy jar. The range of poets is wide, the tone is unpretentious, and the poems are all . . . good." ( San Francisco Chronicle) "These are poems to live in comfort with all one's life." ( Booklist) "[Keillor is] Will Rogers with grammar lessons, Aesop with no ax to grind, the common man's MoliFre." ( The Houston Chronicle) About the Author Garrison Keillor, author of nearly a dozen books, is founder and host of the acclaimed radio show A Prairie Home Companion and the daily program The Writer's Almanac. He is also a regular contributor to Time magazine. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Poem in Thanks Thomas Lux Lord Whoever, thank you for this airI'm about to in- and exhale, this hutchin the woods, the wood for fire,the light-both lamp and the natural stuffof leaf-back, fern, and wing.For the piano, the shovelfor ashes, the moth-gnawedblankets, the stone-cold waterstone-cold: thank you.Thank you, Lord, coming forto carry me here-where I'll gnashit out, Lord, where I'll calmand work, Lord, thank youfor the goddamn birds singing! How Many NightsGalway Kinnell How many nightshave I lain in terror,O Creator Spirit, Maker of night and day, only to walk outthe next morning over the frozen worldhearing under the creaking of snowfaint, peaceful breaths...snake,bear, earthworm, ant... and above mea wild crow crying 'yaw yaw yaw'from a branch nothing cried from ever in my life. Welcome MorningAnne Sexton There is joyin all:in the hair I brush each morning,in the Cannon towel, newly washed,that I rub my body with each morning,in the chapel of eggs I cookeach morning,in the outcry from the kettlethat heats my coffeeeach morning,in the spoon and the chairthat cry "hello there, Anne"each morning,in the godhead of the tablethat I set my silver, plate, cup uponeach morning. All this is God,right here in my pea-green houseeach morningand I mean,though often forget,to give thanks,to faint down by the kitchen tablein a prayer of rejoicingas the holy birds at the kitchen windowpeck into their marriage of seeds. So while I think of it,let me paint a thank-you on my palmfor this God, this laughter of the morning,lest it go unspoken. The Joy that isn't shared, I've heard,dies young. Psalm 23from The Bay Psalm Book The Lord to me a shepherd is,want therefore shall not I:He in the folds of tender grass,doth cause me down to lie:To waters calm me gently leadsrestore my soul doth he:He doth in paths of righteousnessfor his name's sake lead me.Yea, though in valley of death's shadeI walk, none ill I'll fear:Because thou art with me, thy rod,and staff my comfort are.For me a table thou hast spread,in presence of my foes:Thou dost anoint my head with oil;my cup it overflows.Goodness and mercy surely shallall my days follow me:And in the Lord's house I shall dwellso long as days shall be. At LeastRaymond Carver I want to get up early one more morning,before sunrise. Before the birds, even.I want to throw cold water on my faceand be at my work tablewhen the sky lightens and smokebegins to rise from the chimneysof the other houses.I