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Concerning the Book That Is the Body of the Beloved

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ISBN-10: 1556592299

ISBN-13: 9781556592294

Edition: 2005

Authors: Gregory Orr

List price: $18.00
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"The heart of Orr's poetry, now as ever, is the enigmatic image & Mystical, carnal, reflective, wry."-"San Francisco Review This book-length sequence of ecstatic, visionary lyrics recalls Rumi in it's search for the beloved and it's passionate belief in the healing qualities of art and beauty. "Concerning the Book that is the Body of the Beloved is an incantatory celebration of the "Book," an imaginary and self-gathering anthology of all the lyrics-both poems and songs-ever written. Each poem highlights a distinct aspect of the human condition, and together the poems explore love, loss, restoration, the beauty of the world, the beauty of the beloved, and the mystery of poetry. The purpose…    
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Book details

List price: $18.00
Copyright year: 2005
Publisher: Copper Canyon Press
Publication date: 9/1/2005
Binding: Paperback
Pages: 200
Size: 5.50" wide x 7.50" long x 0.60" tall
Weight: 0.528
Language: English

The beloved is dead
Who wants to lose the world
When I open the Book
It's not magic; it isn't a trick
Sadness is there, too
Isis kneels on the banks
The poem is written on the body
"What is life?"
The things that die
I read the Book for years
I've known grief
I want to go back
How easy to give up hope
There's nothing occult going on
Can a river flow beside itself?
When Sappho wrote
How radiant and pale
Salt on the roads melts
The river has a single song
The world comes into the poem
Smart or dumb? Who cares?
Those who wake
If death, then grief, right?
Suppose you could evoke
Those dreams in which a phantom
Everything dies. Nothing dies
The beloved has gone away
Some of the poems are clear
Tears and laughter
Reading and writing poems
Lighten up, lighten up
Too many mysteries
To feel, to feel, to feel
Sometimes happy, sometimes sad
Or is it loss ahead
Concentrating on those motions
To lose the loved one
Even the saddest poems have journeyed
Nothing more beautiful than the body
Someone else called out
Why should the grave be final?
Listening to Bach's solo suites
Now the snow is falling
It's winter and I think of spring
I never planned to die
When my kids look for me I hope
How small the eyes of hate
How large the eyes of love
Scratched with a stick in snow
To become the tree
Could it all be said in a single poem
Who can measure the gratitude
When we're young there's lots
To add our own suffering
To hold a pane of glass
Nesting dolls
Of course, a book about living
When you are sad
To be alive
Calm down, calm down
So obvious that the voice can cease
Facing away from the light
Weeping, weeping, weeping
The human heart
To loll in a sensual torpor
I saw my own body
How to exhaust the inexhaustible?
Time to shut up
We'd only just met
Snow on the tree branch
Tired of the body?
You might think
All the different books you read
You can read the world
How badly the world needs words
How the crocus pops up
The dandelion, too
Oh, I know: the beloved
They said to me: here
Let's remake the world with words
In the spring swamp
Weighed down with the weight
Humid morning
The sun: a hot hand
No one is grateful
How could that Chinese poet
July sun on the green leaves
Hummingbird's furious
Whitman's list of the things he could see
Today only a single poem
Waking now, and we didn't even know
No one I ever believed said
The beloved often
Spasm and sadness
To Guillaume Apollinaire, the beloved
Saying the word
Not the first lessons of grief
We exist in the mortal world only
Skitterbugs on the stream's surface
How is it I'm tired
The grapes taste good
Some say you're lucky
When you're afraid
How can lines
The poet approaches the lectern
Bittersweet, bittersweet
Ripeness of summer
Wildness of the world
There's the daisy
Yes, our human time is finite
Last night, a huge storm
All that sorrow
When we lost the beloved
Rain last night
Naked before the beloved
No postmortems, please
Oh, to be deeply naked
I thought I was hunting
Long night on the road
If we could have the world
Autumn with its too-muchness
Is the beloved greedy
Eyes blurred with tears
My mother's joy
What suffering!
What did someone cynically
A song of resurrection played
The world looks
When the world
Not deepest grief
If deepest grief is hell
And it happens, of course
This room crowded
Clearing out the room
I put the beloved
Not the loss alone
Memories: embers
Scar they stare at
Now the leaves are falling fiercely
Not to make loss beautiful
The beloved moves through the world
The world so huge and dark
Going to the reading
You went to the reading
Expecting so much
Such a shaking
The poem didn't express
That desolations is the door
Some days it's all fuzzy
Body of the beloved
How lucky we are
For me, my brother
Invisible distance between
Words not just the empty
Hold off, rain
Where did the beloved go?
Even before speech
The motions so cautious
To see the beloved
Were we invited?
Acrobatic postures I enjoyed
If a peach leads you into the world
Sudden shower
Do words outlast
Did the beloved die?
Why should it all
Black marks
No longer a part
You lost the beloved
And if not you, then who?
An anthology gathered
His song was about the world
About the Author