contemporary poetry?

wanting to read some contemporary poetry but don’t really know where to start. so what’s your favourite modern day poet and if you like why. thank you.

Comments

  • Robert Hass because i like his treatment of nature images and their interrelatedness with human themes like love and honor and empathy and friendship, etc.

    Adrienne Rich because she writes about loving women while being a woman in a way that simply makes my toes curl.

    Jorge Luis Borges because his prose blows my mind at all times and at every turn.

  • I like these poets currently:

    Jack Gilbert

    Louise Gluck

    A. E. Stallings

    Nance Van Winckel

    Jason Bredle

    Heather McHugh

    C. J. Sage

    Paul Guest

    Tracy K. Smith

    Mary Oliver

    J. P. Dancing Bear

    Jennifer Michael Hecht

    Reginald Shepherd

    Brigit Pegeen Kelly

    Karen Volkman

    Mary Rueffle

    Theordore Worozbyt

    Bryan Penberthy

    Mary Jo Bang

  • My favorite contempory poet is likely Sharon Olds or Louise Gluck. Here are some examples:

    Sex Without Love by Olds

    How do they do it, the ones who make love

    without love? Beautiful as dancers,

    Gliding over each other like ice-skaters

    over the ice, fingers hooked

    inside each other's bodies, faces

    red as steak, wine, wet as the

    children at birth, whose mothers are going to

    give them away. How do they come to the

    come to the come to the God come to the

    still waters, and not love

    the one who came there with them, light

    rising slowly as steam off their joined

    skin? These are the true religious,

    the purists, the pros, the ones who will not

    accept a false Messiah, love the

    priest instead of the God. They do not

    mistake the lover for their own pleasure,

    they are like great runners: they know they are alone

    with the road surface, the cold, the wind,

    the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio

    vascular health--just factors, like the partner

    in the bed, and not the truth, which is the

    single body alone in the universe

    against its own best time.

    Mock Orange by Gluck

    It is not the moon, I tell you.

    It is these flowers

    lighting the yard.

    I hate them.

    I hate them as I hate sex,

    the man's mouth

    sealing my mouth, the man's

    paralyzing body--

    and the cry that always escapes,

    the low, humiliating

    premise of union--

    In my mind tonight

    I hear the question and pursuing answer

    fused in one sound

    that mounts and mounts and then

    is split into the old selves,

    the tired antagonisms. Do you see?

    We were made fools of.

    And the scent of mock orange

    drifts through the window.

    How can I rest?

    How can I be content

    while there is still

    that odor in the world?

  • try reading colin leslie dean

    his poetry is free for download in pdf format at

    gamahucher press

    http://gamahucherpress.yellowgum.com/gamahucher_pr...

Sign In or Register to comment.