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Chatterbox

- Poems

Om Chatterbox

A luminous poetry collection written during a tumultuous year of love, loss, and reconciliation. One hundred and ten poems guide you into the bewildering world of emotional tumult-from passion and longing to grief and despair but eventually to transformational healing. Enter a world conjured from fairytales and dolls, the Garden of Eden and The Wizard of Oz; these stunning poems abound with the imagery of moths and mice, roosters and crows, sugar and apples, the sun and the moon. If you were inspired by the work of Rupi Kaur, Mary Oliver, or Amanda Lovelace you will fall deeply into the realm of Chatterbox: Poems. This rain storm behind my eyes tingles, stinging to my nose and lip. Several angry lashes at the window pane, quickly dripping. A ways off, a close pressure drop, a distant darkness, silent thunder. This rain threatening, ever on the horizon, never arriving, ditches drying. In my eyes, behind my eyes, I fear the flooding of forty days and forty nights adrift and treading. Since this pen learned how to talk is how long I've been swimming.

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  • Språk:
  • Engelsk
  • ISBN:
  • 9781981942503
  • Bindende:
  • Paperback
  • Sider:
  • 134
  • Utgitt:
  • 3. februar 2018
  • Dimensjoner:
  • 127x203x7 mm.
  • Vekt:
  • 141 g.
Leveringstid: 2-4 uker
Forventet levering: 20. mars 2025

Beskrivelse av Chatterbox

A luminous poetry collection written during a tumultuous year of love, loss, and reconciliation.
One hundred and ten poems guide you into the bewildering world of emotional tumult-from passion and longing to grief and despair but eventually to transformational healing. Enter a world conjured from fairytales and dolls, the Garden of Eden and The Wizard of Oz; these stunning poems abound with the imagery of moths and mice, roosters and crows, sugar and apples, the sun and the moon. If you were inspired by the work of Rupi Kaur, Mary Oliver, or Amanda Lovelace you will fall deeply into the realm of Chatterbox: Poems.
This rain storm behind my eyes tingles, stinging to my nose and lip. Several angry lashes at the window pane, quickly dripping. A ways off, a close pressure drop, a distant darkness, silent thunder. This rain threatening, ever on the horizon, never arriving, ditches drying. In my eyes, behind my eyes, I fear the flooding of forty days and forty nights adrift and treading. Since this pen learned how to talk is how long I've been swimming.

Brukervurderinger av Chatterbox



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