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19+ teosta 444 jäsentä 2 arvostelua 2 Favorited

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Bob Hicok is at his generous best in Hold, his ninth collection. In poems that move nimbly between childlike revelry and deadly serious introspection, Hicok recounts days of contradiction, such as a bright blue sky above the violence of white supremacy. What does it mean to love this birdsong world näytä lisää while rejecting its cruelties? Hold points to the essential work of humankind as we "vacillate between killing / everything we see and trying / to have a conversation with clouds," balancing a frank sense of personal responsibility with imagination, joy, and humility. näytä vähemmän

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Associated Works

Poetry 180: A Turning Back to Poetry (2003) — Avustaja — 765 kappaletta
180 More: Extraordinary Poems for Every Day (2005) — Avustaja — 361 kappaletta
The Best American Poetry 1999 (1999) — Avustaja — 208 kappaletta
The Best American Poetry 2006 (2006) — Avustaja — 190 kappaletta
The Best American Poetry 1997 (1997) — Avustaja — 166 kappaletta
The Best American Poetry 2008 (2008) — Avustaja — 135 kappaletta
The Best American Poetry 2009 (2009) — Avustaja — 134 kappaletta
The Best American Poetry 2010 (2010) — Avustaja — 122 kappaletta
The Best American Poetry 2011 (2011) — Avustaja — 86 kappaletta
The Best American Poetry 2014 (2014) — Avustaja — 75 kappaletta
2011 Pushcart Prize XXXV: Best of the Small Presses (2010) — Avustaja — 39 kappaletta
The Poetry Cure (2005) — Avustaja — 19 kappaletta

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Disappointing
 
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dianeham | 1 muu arvostelu | Jan 22, 2023 |
This is the first collection of poetry by Bob Hicok that I've read. I picked this book off the shelf because of the cover photo. The photo is from the interactive art installation The Event of a Thread by Ann Hamilton. I loved this art installation. And I loved this poetry collection. These poems are about racism, white privilege, income inequality, sexuality in marriage, and the current US political environment.

As a translator I'm a pretty good turtle

The rain sounds like a child taking a bath.

We're at a kitchen table translating Arash's poem from Farsi,
which I don't know, to English, which he hardly speaks.

So far what's clear is we both like tennis,
that there are too many English words for gun, that his daughter
needs to put a plastic turtle on my bald head
because we look related, and that I have to pretend
I know something about war or his poems will sound
like his daughter isn't missing an eye, like everyone lived.

So I ask him to draw what it felt like, the day the poem
was born, and he snaps a pencil doing so, which makes me wonder
if I have anything to offer as a friend, if a bucket,
dropped down the well of my mouth, would ever reach water.

We stop when the only line he asks his wife about
makes her leave the room, makes him follow, and when he comes back,
he touches his words and asks how we say......
then makes a fist and explodes it into an open hand
above his heart.

How do I say we've never known how to say that:

burn a dictionary in front of him, sharpen the pencil
and make it bleed while drawing a truer face
on my face, cut a hole in the roof and live there
under the rain, the touch of sky, ask him to beat me to death
and offer the same, beg him to carry me in his eyes
as far as he can look us away from this life?

I worry for him and his daughter and his wife,
for everyone when it's this easy to bring war
to a place of bread, but Arash wants his poem to live
in two languages, and this turtle will do his best
to give it that second mouth.
… (lisätietoja)
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VioletBramble | 1 muu arvostelu | Aug 29, 2019 |

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Teokset
19
Also by
14
Jäseniä
444
Suosituimmuussija
#55,179
Arvio (tähdet)
3.8
Kirja-arvosteluja
2
ISBN:t
27
Kielet
1
Kuinka monen suosikki
2

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