Blood, Tin, Straw (Cape poetry)

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Feb 02, Rick rated it it was ok Shelves: Disappointing collection from Olds. There is something close to perfunctory in these poems. Olds made her reputation with frank poems about lust, love, and family that unearthed the mythic drama in these domestic details. The language is pedestrian, the telling prosaic. Mar 20, mwpm rated it really liked it Shelves: If I could change one physical thing about myself, I would retract those tiny twilit lips which appeared at the mouth of my body when the children's heads pressed out, I would haul back up into heaven those little ladder-tatters, although in the crush between the babies' skill-plates and the skin of the birth-gates, we want the symphysis more cherished - and he seems to like those bruised celestial wattles, their clasp, their tip-of- seraph-pinion purple.

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They are the last licks that the other world took, c If I could change one physical thing about myself, I would retract those tiny twilit lips which appeared at the mouth of my body when the children's heads pressed out, I would haul back up into heaven those little ladder-tatters, although in the crush between the babies' skill-plates and the skin of the birth-gates, we want the symphysis more cherished - and he seems to like those bruised celestial wattles, their clasp, their tip-of- seraph-pinion purple. They are the last licks that the other world took, crown to sole, along each darling, he kisses a go'd small tongues in them and they soul-kiss him back.

I think he could make peace with a scar, if my breast were to be cut out to save me, honour his way along that seam, I think he could love me if I had no body - did he love me before he knew me, before I was born? Maybe his love drew me to earth, my head moved toward the surface of my mother's body and the minuscule hands of her labia midwived me out, I came toward him in her ribbons, through her favours. In an instant, my gaze ran in a single swerving, unimpended swoop, up: He looked so unprotected, so seamless, and shy, like a girl on a toilet, and even though I knew he was sitting to shit, there was no shame in that but even a human peace.

He looked up, I said Sorry, backed out, shut the door but I'd seen him, my father's shorn lamb, my father a cloud in the blue sky of the blue bathroom, my eye had driven up the hairpin mountain road of the naked male, I had turned a corner and found his flank unguarded - gentle bulge of the hip-joint, border of the pelvic cradle. Or the earth's home is the atmosphere. Or the atmosphere is the earth's clothing, layers of it, the earth wears all of it, the earth is a homeless person. Or the atmosphere is the earth's cocoon, which it spun itself, the earth is a larvum. Or the atmosphere is the earth's skin - earth, and atmosphere, one homeless one.

Or its orbit is the earth's home, or the path of the orbit just a path, the earth a homeless person. Or the gutter of the earth's orbit is a circle of hell, the circle of the homeless. But the earth has a place, around the fire, the hearth of our star, the earth is at home, the earth is home to the homeless. For food, and warmth, and shelter, and health, they have earth and fire and air and water, for home they have the elements they are made of, as if each homeless one were an earth, made of milk and grain, like Ceres, and one could eat oneself - as if the human were a god, who could eat the earth, a god of homelessness.

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Blood, Tin, Straw - Sharon Olds - Google Книги

I will not lie down in the ground with the cauliflower and the eggshell mushroom, and grow a fungus out of my stomach steady as a foetus, my face sluicing off me, my Calvinist lips blooming little broccolis, my hair growing, my nails growing into curls of horn, so there is always movement in my grave. If the worm were God, let it lope, slowly, through my flesh, if its loping were music. But I was near, when ferment moved, in its swerving tunnels, through my father, nightly, I have had it with that, I am going to burn, I am going to pour my body out as fire, as fierce pain not felt I am leaving.

The hair will fizzle around my roasting scalp, with a head of garlic in my pocket I am going out. And I know what happens in the fire closet, when the elbow tendons shrink in the head, and I want it to happen - I want, dead, to pull up my hands in fists, I want to go out as a pugilist. Jan 11, Crystal rated it liked it Shelves: I believe that I bought this book a couple of years after it came out in That would be around 10 years ago and I remember reading a bit of it and thinking that Sharon Olds was an amazing poet.

These years later I chose to reread the entire book and I think I've changed. Olds is a good poet After rereading Blood, Tin, Straw I feel she must have been going through a phase, these poem are earthy, gritty, and very sexual. Maybe I was going through a phase as well becaus I believe that I bought this book a couple of years after it came out in Maybe I was going through a phase as well because there were many I loved.

I was at a different place in my life. Today, I still have a few favorites but I also feel that poetry should not be mysterious and confusing and, in my opinion, if the average reader is confused about what she is trying to convey then maybe it's not a great poem. I will also say that I haven't read many other poems written by Olds so I might be making an unfair comparison. These are enough for the book to remain in my poetry collection. May 07, Kevin rated it really liked it Shelves: Another solid, sometimes sensational collection from Olds.

While I sometimes wrestle with her weird adjective choices From First Thanksgiving: A couple of new favorites for me here are The Babysitter A woman yearns for the baby that she's caring for to nurse her--"Suck, goddamnit, I thought, I wanted to feel the tug of another life, I wanted to feel needed," and After the Rap Another solid, sometimes sensational collection from Olds.

A couple of new favorites for me here are The Babysitter A woman yearns for the baby that she's caring for to nurse her--"Suck, goddamnit, I thought, I wanted to feel the tug of another life, I wanted to feel needed," and After the Rape In Our Building A couple make love after hearing a woman was raped in their building the night before--"and later he took off the condom Can't wait to keep reading more of this woman's work.

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Feb 10, Michelle Hoogterp rated it did not like it Shelves: Jan 23, Schuyler rated it it was ok. There are some really shining lines in this collection, and I enjoyed maybe five or six poems in there entirety. But as a whole, it didn't hold up for me. She tended to see-saw in and out of a narrative voice from poem to poem, and sometimes even within a poem and that tended to distract me and give me an overall sense of disconnection. My grasp on poetry is still fairly inst There are some really shining lines in this collection, and I enjoyed maybe five or six poems in there entirety.

My grasp on poetry is still fairly instinctual and I base most of my reaction towards poetry as to whether or not it makes me feel anything. I will say that it was pretty cool when Sharon Olds rejected Laura Bush's invitation to have dinner at the White House. I'm sure the First Lady cried herself to sleep that night, or at least had her assistant cry herself to sleep on Laura's behalf.

I thought of the clean linens at your table, the shining knives and the flames of the candles, and I could not stomach it. Jan 01, Diane rated it really liked it. Sometimes Sharon is right there and sometimes I want to say, "Oh come on now. I didn't learn anything from some of her poems, such as Sometimes, which was very personal. I loved The Defense, which was personal but so much more than that for so Sometimes Sharon is right there and sometimes I want to say, "Oh come on now. I loved The Defense, which was personal but so much more than that for so many women.

She has a wonderful accessibility coupled with so much talent. Oct 17, Rebecca added it Shelves: I'm conflicted about this poet, which is why the book has no rating, although I disliked most of it. I like Olds' form and phrasing. Or at least it wildly diverges from how I feel about femininity, and it's rooted in a sexual perspective that's older than my mother.

Dec 16, Kevin Fanning rated it it was ok. Poems about the human body and the fluids it's comprised of and the horrible things that happen to it. Feels like it was cathartic for the author to write; it sounds like she's had some tough times and it's important to bear witness to those moments, but I prefer poetry that looks up, not down.

Jul 10, Patricia McLaughlin rated it really liked it Shelves: Dec 20, Byron rated it it was amazing Shelves: May 06, Suzanne rated it liked it.

I'm sort of embarrassed to say that I didn't think this book was amazing. But somehow I feel compelled to work this out a bit. I'm supposed to consider her my foremother and re-read everything of hers in all contexts, right?

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I do remember finding her anthologized works to be enga I'm sort of embarrassed to say that I didn't think this book was amazing. I do remember finding her anthologized works to be engaging and smart and, well, poetic. So maybe my expectations got the best of me. I enjoyed this book, yes. Bought it used at Berkeley Books and kept it on my nightstand for months But this is maybe more my fault than hers. I haven't been very committed to reading in the past couple of months. Certainly, social and literary history count here, and the collection was nicely contextualized by the fact that I have also been reading Naomi Wolf's Promiscuities, which documents Wolf's experiences with "the secret struggle for womanhood" in the last 40 years of the last century.

But I didn't quite make the connection to Sharon Olds for which I was longing.

Blood, Tin, Straw: Poems

That being said, I dogeared seven pages, so these are my favorites: But my favorite by far is "The Talkers. Maybe seven good poems is pretty damn good. Her symbolistic powers are so strong. So maybe I "liked" it more than I thought. Three stars qualifies as "like," and I wouldn't give it fewer out of five. Maybe I'll like Satan Says even better. It's also on my nightstand in Cali, so I'll have to get back to you on that ; Jan 20, W.

I thought she sort of moved further away from writing what's almost lineated prose and closer to poetry with a lot of these poems. The reviewers here seem to disagree with that.

Blood Tin Straw by Sharon Olds Paperback Book

An Olds collection will usually have a few stunners the opening poem about killing your lover if he or she requests in old age or infirmity is pretty raw and memorable , a decent amount of fairly strong writing and then several truly cringeworthy poems. This book's no exception to that rule. Milk and Honey Rupi Kaur. Love Her Wild Atticus Poetry. Useless Magic Florence Welch. Pillow Thoughts Courtney Peppernell. On Love and Barley Matsuo Basho. The River in the Sky Clive James. Fierce Fairytales Nikita Gill. A Poetry Handbook Mary Oliver. Soft Thorns Bridgett Devoue. The Future Neil Hilborn.

Mind Platter Najwa Zebian. Sea of Strangers Lang Leav. Leaves of Grass Walt Whitman. I Wrote This For You: Just the Words Iain S. Yesterday I was the Moon Noor Unnahar. The Collected Poems of W. Paradise Lost John Milton. Love Poems Pablo Neruda.


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Olds' trademark has long been her astonishing candour The shock she delivers is that of true poetry" show more. Review quote "Her sixth book [Blood, Tin, Straw] is without doubt her strongest