• Complain

Kooser - Delights & Shadows

Here you can read online Kooser - Delights & Shadows full text of the book (entire story) in english for free. Download pdf and epub, get meaning, cover and reviews about this ebook. year: 2004, publisher: Copper Canyon Press, genre: Detective and thriller. Description of the work, (preface) as well as reviews are available. Best literature library LitArk.com created for fans of good reading and offers a wide selection of genres:

Romance novel Science fiction Adventure Detective Science History Home and family Prose Art Politics Computer Non-fiction Religion Business Children Humor

Choose a favorite category and find really read worthwhile books. Enjoy immersion in the world of imagination, feel the emotions of the characters or learn something new for yourself, make an fascinating discovery.

Kooser Delights & Shadows

Delights & Shadows: summary, description and annotation

We offer to read an annotation, description, summary or preface (depends on what the author of the book "Delights & Shadows" wrote himself). If you haven't found the necessary information about the book — write in the comments, we will try to find it.

Winner of the Pulitzer Prize in Poetry

Ted Kooser, who served as United States Poet Laureate (20042006), is a poet who works toward clarity and accessibility, so that each distinctive poem appears to be as fresh and bright and spontaneous as a good watercolor painting. He is a haiku-like imagist who imbues his poems with tender wisdom, and draws inspiration from the overlooked details of daily life.

Praise for Delights and Shadows:

Ted Kooser...has a genius for making the ordinary sacred.The New York Times

A sense of wonder and compassion runs through this Pulitzer Prize winning volume Koosers poetry is understated yet manages to skillfully illuminate the small moments of life.Christian Science Monitor

[Kooser] brushes poems over ordinary objects, revealing metaphysical themes that way an investigator dusts for fingerprints. His language is so controlled and convincing that one cant help but feel significant truths behind his lines.The Philadelphia Inquirer

There is a sense of quiet amazement at the core of all Koosers work, but it especially seems to animate his new collection of poems, Delights & Shadows. Every delight is shadowed by darkness in this book of small wonders and hard dualisms.Edward Hirsch, The Washington Post

Delights and Shadows is a book with a deep stillness at its center, perfectly self-contained.Carol Muske-Dukes, Los Angeles Times

Koosers ninth collection of poems reflects the simple and remarkable things of everyday life. That he often sees things we do not would be delight enough, but more amazing is exactly what he sees. Nothing escapes him; everything is illuminated.Highly recommended.Library Journal

Few poets depict the Midwest so accurately or with such tender regard... Kooser excels at the brief, imagistic poem.The Kansas City Star

Delights and Shadows raises the voice of the poet above everything else. Each short, vivid poem on the page reads as if it were being spoken aloud. Details about cemeteries, dictionaries, a doctors waiting room, and a jar of buttons bristle with sound and awareness. Koosers ability to use brief lyrics to compose a music of discovery and regeneration makes his work radiant and consuming... This is not an extended, complex or experimental kind of writing, but poetry that rings true, allowing the human sound of being to exist on the page.Bloomsbury Review

Here is the gift and fragility of life.The Wichita Eagle

Kooser is a master of the subjective description. Empathetic without sentimentality, his eye ranges over all sorts of everyday subjects and finds material everywhere wherever the unpredictable particularity of the world can be glimpsed Perhaps Koosers success lies in his determination to see the things of this world with such clarity and passion that their underlying mysteries, delights, and shadows also become clear, if only for a moment.The Georgia Review

You can almost see Kooser behind the poems, watching the world like a sketch artist Kooser displays the same kind of fluid strokes Degas used in his ballet pictures...He is an exquisite miniaturist of daily life.The Hartford Courant

The poet finds magic in activities and objects typically considered mundane... Metaphors are the treasure of these short, imagistic poems, emphasizing the wonder and delight latent in what is often merely taken for granted.Harvard Review

Kooser has written more perfect poems than any poet of his generation. Dana Gioia

Kooser is straightforward, possesses an American essence, is humble, gritty, ironic and has a gift for detail and a deceptive simplicity.Seattle Post-Intelligencer

As Poet Laureate of the United States, Ted Kooser launched the weekly poetry column American Life in Poetry, which appears in over 100 newspapers nationwide. He is the author of ten books of poems, including the collaboration with Jim Harrison, Braided Creek: A Conversation in Poetry (isbn 9781556591877).

Kooser: author's other books


Who wrote Delights & Shadows? Find out the surname, the name of the author of the book and a list of all author's works by series.

Delights & Shadows — read online for free the complete book (whole text) full work

Below is the text of the book, divided by pages. System saving the place of the last page read, allows you to conveniently read the book "Delights & Shadows" online for free, without having to search again every time where you left off. Put a bookmark, and you can go to the page where you finished reading at any time.

Light

Font size:

Reset

Interval:

Bookmark:

Make
Note to the Reader Copper Canyon Press encourages you to calibrate your - photo 1
Note to the Reader Copper Canyon Press encourages you to calibrate your - photo 2
Note to the Reader Copper Canyon Press encourages you to calibrate your settings by using the line of characters below, which optimizes the line length and character size: Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Pellentes Please take the time to adjust the size of the text on your viewer so that the line of characters above appears on one line, if possible. When this text appears on one line on your device, the resulting settings will most accurately reproduce the layout of the text on the page and the line length intended by the author. Viewing the title at a higher than optimal text size or on a device too small to accommodate the lines in the text will cause the reading experience to be altered considerably; single lines of some poems will be displayed as multiple lines of text. If this occurs, the turn of the line will be marked with a shallow indent. Thank you.

We hope you enjoy these poems. This e-book edition was created through a special grant provided by the Paul G. Allen Family Foundation. Copper Canyon Press would like to thank Constellation Digital Services for their partnership in making this e-book possible.for Kathleen The Sailor cannot see the North, but knows the Needle can. Emily Dickinson, in a letter to Thomas Wentworth Higginson, 1862 I. WALKING ON TIPTOE

Walking on Tiptoe
Long ago we quit lifting our heels like the others horse, dog, and tiger though we thrill to their speed as they flee.

Even the mouse bearing the great weight of a nugget of dog food is enviably graceful. There is little spring to our walk, we are so burdened with responsibility, all of the disciplinary actions that have fallen to us, the punishments, the killings, and all with our feet bound stiff in the skins of the conquered. But sometimes, in the early hours, we can feel what it must have been like to be one of them, up on our toes, stealing past doors where others are sleeping, and suddenly able to see in the dark.

Tattoo
What once was meant to be a statement a dripping dagger held in the fist of a shuddering heart is now just a bruise on a bony old shoulder, the spot where vanity once punched him hard and the ache lingered on. He looks like someone you had to reckon with, strong as a stallion, fast and ornery, but on this chilly morning, as he walks between the tables at a yard sale with the sleeves of his tight black T-shirt rolled up to show us who he was, he is only another old man, picking up broken tools and putting them back, his heart gone soft and blue with stories.
At the Cancer Clinic
She is being helped toward the open door that leads to the examining rooms by two young women I take to be her sisters.

Each bends to the weight of an arm and steps with the straight, tough bearing of courage. At what must seem to be a great distance, a nurse holds the door, smiling and calling encouragement. How patient she is in the crisp white sails of her clothes. The sick woman peers from under her funny knit cap to watch each foot swing scuffing forward and take its turn under her weight. There is no restlessness or impatience or anger anywhere in sight.

Student
The green shell of his backpack makes him lean into wave after wave of responsibility, and he swings his stiff arms and cupped hands, paddling ahead.
Student
The green shell of his backpack makes him lean into wave after wave of responsibility, and he swings his stiff arms and cupped hands, paddling ahead.

He has extended his neck to its full length, and his chin, hard as a beak, breaks the cold surf. Hes got his baseball cap on backward as up he crawls, out of the froth of a hangover and onto the sand of the future, and lumbers, heavy with hope, into the library.

Gyroscope
I place this within the first order of wonders: a ten-year-old girl alone on a sunny, glassed-in porch in February, the world beyond the windows slowly tipping forward into spring, her thin arms held out in the sleepwalker pose, and pinched and stretched between her fingers, a length of common grocery twine upon which smoothly spins and leans one of the smaller worlds we each at one time learn to master, the last to balance so lightly in our hands.
New Cap
Brown corduroy, the earflaps tied on top, the same size cap he bought when he was young, but at eighty-six a heads a smaller thing, the hair gone fine and thin, less meat to the scalp, and not so much ambition packed inside. He squints from under the bill as if the world were a long ways off, and when he tips it back to open up his face to conversation, it looks so loose you think that one of them, the cap or he, might blow away.
Cosmetics Department
A fragrance heavy as dust, and two young women motionless as mannequins, dressed in black.

The white moth of timelessness flutters about them, unable to leave the cool light of their faces. One holds the others head in her hands like a mirror. The other leans into the long fingers knowing how heavy her beauty is. Eye to eye, breath into breath, they lean as if frozen forever: a white cup with two lithe figures painted in black and the warm wine brimming.

Biker
Pulling away from a stoplight with a tires sharp bark, he lifts his scuffed boot and kicks at the air, and the old dog of inertia gets up with a growl and shrinks out of the way.
The Old People
Pantcuffs rolled, and in old shoes, they stumble over the rocks and wade out into a cold river of shadows far from the fire, so far that its warmth no longer reaches them.

And its light (but for the sparks in their eyes when they chance to look back) scarcely brushes their faces. Their ears are full of night: rustle of black leaves against a starless sky. Sometimes they hear us calling, and sometimes they dont. They are not searching for anything much, nor are they much in need of finding something new. They are feeling their way out into the night, letting their eyes adjust to the future.

In January
Only one cell in the frozen hive of night is lit, or so it seems: this Vietnamese caf, with its oily light, its odors whose shapes are like flowers.

Laughter and talk, the tick of chopsticks. Beyond the glass, the wintry city creaks like an ancient wooden bridge. A great wind rushes under all of us. The bigger the window, the more it trembles.

A Rainy Morning
A young woman in a wheelchair, wearing a black nylon poncho spattered with rain, is pushing herself through the morning. You have seen how pianists sometimes bend forward to strike the keys, then lift their hands, draw back to rest, then lean again to strike just as the chord fades.

Such is the way this woman strikes at the wheels, then lifts her long white fingers, letting them float, then bends again to strike just as the chair slows, as if into a silence. So expertly she plays the chords of this difficult music she has mastered, her wet face beautiful in its concentration, while the wind turns the pages of rain.

Mourners
After the funeral, the mourners gather under the rustling churchyard maples and talk softly, like clusters of leaves. White shirt cuffs and collars flash in the shade: highlights on deep green water. They came this afternoon to say goodbye, but now they keep saying hello and hello, peering into each others faces, slow to let go of each others hands.
Skater
Next page
Light

Font size:

Reset

Interval:

Bookmark:

Make

Similar books «Delights & Shadows»

Look at similar books to Delights & Shadows. We have selected literature similar in name and meaning in the hope of providing readers with more options to find new, interesting, not yet read works.


Reviews about «Delights & Shadows»

Discussion, reviews of the book Delights & Shadows and just readers' own opinions. Leave your comments, write what you think about the work, its meaning or the main characters. Specify what exactly you liked and what you didn't like, and why you think so.