The Poetry CureJulia Darling, Cynthia Fuller Department of English Literary & Linguistic Studies, University of Newcastle, 2005 - 112 pagina's 'This book of poems is for all of us who go through illness, deal with doctors, hospitals, and experiences such as bereavement and ageing, and who struggle to find language to describe the suffering we have to go through. Medical language baffles and alienates us. It's a harsh, unforgiving vocabulary that often seems to bear no relationship to our own emotional predicament. In this uplifting anthology we see how poetry can give us metaphors and images to help us understand our feelings and communicate them to people around us. This is a book that should be in every waiting-room, and should be by the bed of every GP and consultant. It may inspire you to write poetry, and also help you to find order in the chaos of ill health. By giving us words, poetry can help cure us.' - Julia Darling & Cynthia Fuller |
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Pagina 7
... Jackie Wills Bernard O'Donoghue Brendan Kennelly Jamie McKendrick Susan
Wicks Les Murray Lauris Edmond Rupert M. Loydell Tess Gallagher Tony
Harrison Kathleen Jamie Alden Nomlan 92 One Day We'll Be Able to Talk to the
Dead ...
... Jackie Wills Bernard O'Donoghue Brendan Kennelly Jamie McKendrick Susan
Wicks Les Murray Lauris Edmond Rupert M. Loydell Tess Gallagher Tony
Harrison Kathleen Jamie Alden Nomlan 92 One Day We'll Be Able to Talk to the
Dead ...
Pagina 25
It's got spider's legs with wheels on their feet that swizzle and turn him so he can
talk to us. Big, shiny desk, snaky tubes, black boxes and long, silver things that
look dangerous. He hangs hooks in his ears and looms over, I think he's smiling,
...
It's got spider's legs with wheels on their feet that swizzle and turn him so he can
talk to us. Big, shiny desk, snaky tubes, black boxes and long, silver things that
look dangerous. He hangs hooks in his ears and looms over, I think he's smiling,
...
Pagina 97
Two last days in the hospital: his long forearms were still red mahogany. His
hands gripped steel frame. I'm dyin. On the second day: You're bustin to talk but I'
m too busy dyin. * Grief ended when he died, the widower like soldiers who won't
...
Two last days in the hospital: his long forearms were still red mahogany. His
hands gripped steel frame. I'm dyin. On the second day: You're bustin to talk but I'
m too busy dyin. * Grief ended when he died, the widower like soldiers who won't
...
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