With these metaphors in place, he makes clear his difficult poetic task: to delve into the past, both personal and historic, while remaining ever mindful of the potentially fatal power of language.Born and raised in Northern Ireland, where any hint of Gaelic tradition in one's speech was considered a political act, Heaney is all too aware of the dire consequences of speaking one's mind. Indeed, during times of crisis, he has been expected to appear on television and dispense political wisdom. Most often, however, he stays out of the fray and opts for a supreme sense of empathy to guide his words. As excavator--of earth, of his beloved Gaelic, of his own life--Heaney is unmatched. In "Bone Dreams", the archaeologist's task is synonymous with reaching for a cultural past: I push back through dictions, Elizabethan canopies, Norman devices, the erotic mayflowers of Provence and the ivied Latins of churchmen to the scop's twang, the iron flash of consonants cleaving the line.And in early poems like "Blackberry Picking", Heaney's images--deftly, delightfully--carry us back to childhood fields: At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam pots Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots. Round hayfields, cornfields and potato drills We trekked and picked until the cans were full... Opened Ground is a pleasure and a triumph. These three decades of work confirm Heaney as one of the most important poets of his time. --Martha Silano

    What I'm Doing HereTo a Man Who ThinksHe Is Making an AngelI Had It for a Moment The HearthOn the Sickness of My LoveIsland Bulletin Portrait of the City HallCruel BabyIndependence CongratulationsFor MarianneThe House The Drawer's Condition on November 28, 1961The Failure of a Secular LifeOrder The SuitMy MentorsDestiny Business as UsualHydra 1960Queen Victoria and Me Indictment of the Blue HoleLeviathanThe Pure List and the Commentary Nothing I Can LoseHeirloomThe New Step (A Ballet-Drama in One Act) Police GazettePromiseThe Paper No PartnersSkyNursery Rhyme On the Death of an Uncharted PlanetWaiting for MarianneOld Dialogue I Wanted to Be a DoctorWhy I Happen to Be FreeWinter Bulletin On Hearing a NameLong UnspokenThe True DesireWhy Did You Give My Name to the Police? Finally I CalledThe Way BackGovernments Make Me Lonely StyleThe ProjectThe Lists Goebbels Abandons His Novel and Joins the PartyHydra 1963To the Indian Pilgrims Why Commands Are ObeyedAll There Is to Know about Adolph EichmannThe Music Crept By Us It Uses Us!The New LeaderThe Telephone The First MurderHow It Happened in the Middle of the DayDisguises My Teacher Is DyingFor E.J.P.Lot Montreal 1964The Glass DogOne of the Nights I Didn't Kill Myself Why Experience Is No TeacherA Migrating DialogueThe Big World For My Old LaytonThe BusNarcissus The Only Tourist in Havana Turns His Thoughts Homeward LaundryCherry Orchards The Invisible TroubleThe Rest Is DrossStreetcars Sick AloneHow the Winter Gets InBullets MillenniumPropagandaHitler Hitler the Brain-MoleOpium and HitlerFront Lawn Death of a LeaderFor Anyone Dressed in MarbleKerensky Alexander Trocchi, Public JunkiePriez Pour NousWheels, FirecloudsAnother Night with Telescope Three Good NightsFolk

    Used Book in good condition. No missing/ torn pages. No stains. Note: The above used product classification has been solely undertaken by the seller. Amazon shall neither be liable nor responsible for any used product classification undertaken by the seller. A-to-Z Guarantee not applicable on used products.

    No Art is an exhilarating argument both with America and with poetry itself, in which online slang is juxtaposed with academic idiom, philosophy collides with advertising, and the language of medicine and the military is overlaid with echoes of Whitman and Keats. Here, clichés are cracked open and made new, made strange, and formal experiments disclose new possibilities of thought and feeling. No Art confirms Ben Lerner as one of the most searching and ambitious poets working today.

    Phased out. Home had never appealed. All his life he had dreamed about a plush flat somewhere in the West End of London. So now he would make the leap from poverty street into the affluent society. In one gigantic jump. Fresh out of stir after kicking a police sergeant’s head in, former skinhead Joe Hawkins is heading for the big time – a job in a firm of stockbrokers, a swanky flat and (hopefully) plenty of money. A whole new style is called for – so Joe becomes a Suedehead. The hair is a few millimetres longer, the uniform a velvet-collared crombie coat, bowler hat and neatly-furled umbrella – with razor sharp tip. For while Joe might be playing the establishment pet, he remains the unrepentently vicious, cunning hooligan from Skinhead, intent on pulling women, stealing and putting the boot in. It’s not long before he finds some other Suedes willing to commit mayhem under cover of respectability... but can Joe and respectability ever really get along? Suedehead is the second of Richard Allen’s era-defining cult novels featuring anti-hero Joe Hawkins. First published in 1971, this new edition features an introduction by Andrew Stevens.

    Lawrence. Since then it has won the admiration of writers from Henry Miller to Iris Murdoch. Wolf Solent remains wholly unrivaled in its deft and risky balance of mysticism and social comedy, ecstatic contemplation of nature and unblinking observation of human folly and desire.Forsaking London for Ramsgard, a village in Dorsetshire, Wolf Solent discovers a world of pagan splendor and medieval insularity, riddled by ancient scandals and resentments. And there this poetic young man meets two women—the sensuous beauty Gerda and the ethereal gamine Christie—who will become the sharers of his body and soul. Audacious, extravagant, and gloriously strange, Wolf Solent is a twentieth-century masterpiece.

    Merwin’s vast oeuvre that represents the poems—and a few select pieces of prose—that readers will cherish today, tomorrow, and into the next century. This incisive, slender collection draws only the best of the best from the work Merwin published over his sixty-year writing career. A teeming, resonate, exuberant testament of a rare, revolutionary, and deeply rewarding poet.And what better way to honor those thousands of poems that are not in The Essential by highlighting an aphoristic poem that is:SeparationYour absence has gone through meLike thread through a needle.Everything I do is stitched with its color.Since launching his career by winning the Yale Younger Poets Award 1952, W.S. Merwin has written and translated sixty books of poetry and prose and won every major literary prize this country has to offer. He lives in Hawaii, within the palm forest where he wrote, “On the last day of the world I would want to plant a tree.”

    On the day Dr. Ray Klein wins his parole, the disciplinary perfection of Green River Penitentiary in Texas is torn apart by a riot of unimaginable ferocity. Now Klein must choose whether to abandon the ones he cares for (including the woman he loves) or risk everything to stay fight.

    Understandable perhaps from the point of view of the poet: readers on the other hand might wish to demur. The poems gathered here and chronologically ordered, thereby tracing the course of the war, are an extraordinary testimony to the almost unimaginable experiences of a combatant in that bitter conflict. Moving from the patriotic optimism of the first few poems (" ... fighting for our freedom, we are free") to the anguish and anger of the later work (where "hope, with furtive eyes and grappling fists / Flounders in mud ... "), there comes a point when the reality of trench-warfare and its aftershocks move beyond comprehension: Sassoon knows this, and it becomes a powerful element in his art. As a book, the images have a cumulative relentlessness that make it almost impossible to read more than a few poems in one sitting. Unlike the avant-garde experiments developing in Europe in the first decades of this century, Sassoon's verse is formally conservative--but this was perhaps necessary, for as one reads the poems, one feels that the form, the classically inflected tropes, the metre and rhyme, apart from ironising the rhetoric of glory and battle were necessary techniques for containing the emotion (and indeed, a tone of barely controlled irony may have been the only means by which these angry observations would have been considered publishable at the time). When Sassoon's line begins to fragment, as it does in several of the later poems, it is under the extreme pressure to express the inexpressible. Compassion and sympathy are omnipresent here, in their full etymological sense of suffering with or alongside others--something the higher echelons of command (those " ... old men who died / Slow, natural deaths--old men with ugly souls") were never able or willing to contemplate. But Sassoon intuited the future of warfare, could sense that this was not "the war to end all wars": the mock-religious invocation of the final poem prefigures the vicious euphemisms of more recent conflicts: "Grant us the power to prove, by poison gases, / The needlessness of shedding human blood." Sassoon's bile-black irony signals a deep-felt pessimism: it was with good reason. --Burhan Tufail

    When a mysterious carriage brings a visitor to the house, Lucas hopes he’s found a friend at last. But the newcomer, Anna Marie, is unfriendly and spoiled—and French. Just when Lucas thinks things can’t get any worse, disastrous circumstances force him and Anna Marie, parentless and penniless, into the dark and unfriendly streets of Blastburn.

    But the evil Count Karlstein has struck a terrible bargain with Zamiel, and so the lives of his two young nieces, Lucy and Charlotte, are in danger. Their only hope lies with Hildi, a castle maidservant, and her fearless brother Peter. Can they save the girls from their dreadful fate? Only one thing is certain—the Demon Huntsman will not return to his dark wood unsatisfied!

    As his obsession with the relationship grows, so does the need to end it.

    At first there is triumph in this, not least for the father who had spurred him on, but later "alienated from his class, and with nowhere yet to go" Colin finds himself struggling to remain in the place that made him.Saville won the Booker prize in 1976.

    So when a GI came to call, she was sure that love and escape would follow. But Nellie knew different - the boy would have to go.

    The sequence of poems is random - making it ideal for dipping into - and drawn from a number of sources, mixing both well-known and less familiar poetry.