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One of the most respected artists in popular music today, Jewel is much more than a music industry success with her debut album selling more than 10 million copies. Before her gifted songwriting comes an even more individual art: Poetry. Now available in paperback, A Night without Armor highlights the poetry of Jewel taken from her journals which are both intimate and inspiring, to be embraced and enjoyed. Writing poems and keeping journals since childhood, Jewel has been searching for truth and meaning, turning to her words to record, to discover, and to reflect. In A Night Without Armor, her first collection of poetry, Jewel explores the fire of first love, the lessons of betrayal, and the healing of intimacy. She delves into matters of the home, the comfort of family, the beauty of Alaska, and the dislocation of divorce. Frank and honest, serious and suddenly playful, A Night Without Armor is a talented artist's intimate portrait of what makes us uniquely human.… (plus d'informations)
This is not masterful poetry, but it is honest and heartfelt, and upon cleaning off my shelves and paging through, it turned out to be exactly what I needed. ( )
Interesting little book by Jewel, yes Jewel the singer. A collection of her poems that cover anything from growing up as a little girl in Alaska to the red light district of Tai Pei. Through her poems she tells stories of growing up in Alaska. Her look for love and being in relationships but her insecurities. Another reviewer noted that some lead you to want to know more about her or that part of her life and then you jump to a completely different area or time period. But all and all a nice collection of contemporary poetry. ( )
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"Some people react physically to the magic of poetry, to the moments, that is, of authentic revelation, of the communication, the sharing, at its highest level...A good poem is a contribution to reality. The world is never the same once a good poem has been added to it. A good poem helps to change the shape and significance of the universe, helps to extend everyone's knowledge of himself and the world around him." —Dylan Thomas (1913-1953)
Dédicace
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO the One in Whom we live and move and have our being to my parents, Nedra Carroll and Atz Kilcher to my brothers Shane, Atz, and Nikos and to the land which inspires my heart to sing, Alaska
Premiers mots
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
From an early age, my mother would gather me and my brothers after school for "workshops" in music, visual art, and writing.
Citations
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
You Are Not
you are not the brave soldier
Neruda's sons Chaves' brother
you are not the dark horse heart filled with all the weight and compassion your hardships have won you you are not driven by the need to free all people from meanness and loveless abuse I know you you are asleep in your church on Sunday afternoon looking for god in answers you seek through others instead of being the answers you are praying for peace but unwilling to be it
praying for mercy but unwilling to give it
praying for Love but too busy making sure you got your own: a good job a good girl all the trimmings you are entitled to all the bells and whistles that are meaningful but only to those who possess a heart most common
Road Spent
I could stand to be alone for some time Lose myself in white noise slip into the blur contemplate the color yellow Right now I just don't handle splashes too well Or too many teeth around me all at once armed like guns with something to say Urgent whispers hoarse restraint Quiet as paper cuts people steal me away cart my flesh off in tiny crimson piles my bones have been sore Rattling against each other in their anemic cage ravens circling my heart beating it's-time to-go it's-time to-go someplace full of surf full of flat blue sky full of shuuushhh
Lemonade
Moths beat themselves upon the screen door of some other afternoon
A red dress burns in my mind
Outside the hound is turning a lantern over that had been left out in the rain
I long for a hot day when moist palms reach for my warmth and pull me down to some humid and reckless depth
Night spilling over me its velvet stain
We Talk
We talk slowly about nothing about movies we stick to surface streets and find no meaning in cafe windows no substance in hotel rooms I used to unwrap you! tender layers unfolding like eager gold but now we are cool and recount our daily bores as though the sum of our uses equaled something (more) substantial while softer things shriveled and dry roots go unfed strangled by the phone line and all that is not said
Sometimes
Sometimes I feel my heart fall to vague depths between words there are such spaces that I can't help but feel My Heart fall between the pregnant pause of all you will not say and all I can not ask
I stare at my hands and wonder how they got so far away —from Blanketed by a Citrus Smile
The Things You Fear
The things you fear are undefeatable not by their nature but by your approach
The Chase
And now it begins you will see. Once you are gone my game gets stronger. In love with the pursuit I will seduce you, with ink, blot out the night and invent new stars. I will sew you to my side nevermore shall you roam without the outline of my chase branded on your heart.
By 7 A.M. every morning we walked ourselves out to the road and waited for the school bus with all the other kids. Looking for signs of when life might strike random again and scatter us like seeds on the unknowable winds of chance. —from After the Divorce
driving our old tractor, Alice, my eyes would search the horizon, soaking in the ease of outdoors; of summer and its particular toil. —from May Brought Longer Days
His big hands handled the tiny animal expertly; the same hands I feared now seemed more powerful and merciful than god's. —from Crazy Cow
And all night we dreamt of all the impossible things we would do when we grew up. —from Crazy Cow
Derniers mots
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
"Beauty and intellect join forces in Pat Steir's paintings. The pictures may be read as metaphors for the imagination itself, a mercurial space of luidity and transformation." --Ken Johnson, The New York Times November 14, 1997
Références à cette œuvre sur des ressources externes.
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One of the most respected artists in popular music today, Jewel is much more than a music industry success with her debut album selling more than 10 million copies. Before her gifted songwriting comes an even more individual art: Poetry. Now available in paperback, A Night without Armor highlights the poetry of Jewel taken from her journals which are both intimate and inspiring, to be embraced and enjoyed. Writing poems and keeping journals since childhood, Jewel has been searching for truth and meaning, turning to her words to record, to discover, and to reflect. In A Night Without Armor, her first collection of poetry, Jewel explores the fire of first love, the lessons of betrayal, and the healing of intimacy. She delves into matters of the home, the comfort of family, the beauty of Alaska, and the dislocation of divorce. Frank and honest, serious and suddenly playful, A Night Without Armor is a talented artist's intimate portrait of what makes us uniquely human.
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