New and Selected Poems

Gregory Orr's "New and Selected Poems" affords the reader a look into the early work of this most unusual poet. Possibly the only modern poet still writing exclusively in lyric form, Orr has a made a good case for the lyric as the chief vehicle of imagination and emotion. While some of the poems ("Beginning" would be a good example) reflect a young man simply intoxicated with the art itself, his "Gathering the Bones" and autobiographical work show the promise of what was later to emerge in "The Caged Owl". Gregory Orr has been dealt a cruel hand in life. During a hunting trip when he was 12 years old, he accidentally shot and killed his younger brother, Peter Orr. His father became a metamphetamine addict and died of his disease at a young age. For all this, though, Orr managed to transcend his wounds and in a big way. Embracing the written word in place (it would seem) of any transcendence, his work takes place in a hidden world of the imagination in which he heroically grapples with his demons and uses poetry as a sort of psychical lifeboat. The poet always returns to the poem, no matter what is going on in his life. In "Leaving the Asylum", seemingly composed after Orr's discharge from a mental hospital, all he can think of is returning home to write a poem. "The metal harps of the high gates/make a clangorous music/closing behind me/They announce the "new life" of freedom/and only a battered valise/to lug down this alley of poplars/I repeat the litany of the poems/that released me/Hollow tree though I am/these things I cherish/ the hum of my blood/busily safe in its hive of being/the delicate oily kiss my fingertips give each thing they touch/and desire/a huge fish I drag with me/ through the wilderness.." His appreciation of our mortal existence over and above any pain is impressive for a person who has suffered so much. Also here are some disturbing and intriguing poems about his experiences as a Civil Rights' protestor in the early 60's. One of the most imaginative and determined poets out there.

Gregory Orr's "New and Selected Poems" affords the reader a look into the early work of this most unusual poet. Possibly the only modern poet still writing exclusively in lyric form, Orr has a made a good case for the lyric as the chief vehicle of imagination and emotion. While some of the poems ("Beginning" would be a good example) reflect a young man simply intoxicated with the art itself, his "Gathering the Bones" and autobiographical work show the promise of what was later to emerge in "The Caged Owl". Gregory Orr has been dealt a cruel hand in life. During a hunting trip when he was 12 years old, he accidentally shot and killed his younger brother, Peter Orr. His father became a metamphetamine addict and died of his disease at a young age. For all this, though, Orr managed to transcend his wounds and in a big way. Embracing the written word in place (it would seem) of any transcendence, his work takes place in a hidden world of the imagination in which he heroically grapples with his demons and uses poems a sort of psychical lifeboat. The poet always returns to the poem, no matter what is going on in his life. In "Leaving the Asylum", seemingly composed after Orr's discharge from a mental hospital, all he can think of is returning home to write a poem. "The metal harps of the high gates/make a clangorous music/closing behind me/They announce the "new life" of freedom/and only a battered valise/to lug down this alley of poplars/I repeat the litany of the poems/that released me/Hollow tree though I am/these things I cherish/ the hum of my blood/busily safe in its hive of being/the delicate oily kiss my fingertips give each thing they touch/and desire/a huge fish I drag with me/ through the wilderness.." His appreciation of our mortal existence over and above any pain is impressive for a person who has suffered so much. Also here are some disturbing and intriguing poems about his experiences as a Civil Rights' protestor in the early 60's. One of the most imaginative and determined poets out there.