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[KINDLE] ✿ Fuel (American Poets Continuum) By Naomi Shihab Nye – Transportjobsite.co.uk

[KINDLE] ✿ Fuel (American Poets Continuum) By Naomi Shihab Nye – Transportjobsite.co.uk

Fuel (American Poets Continuum) summary Fuel (American Poets Continuum), series Fuel (American Poets Continuum), book Fuel (American Poets Continuum), pdf Fuel (American Poets Continuum), Fuel (American Poets Continuum) a21dd76a78 Fuel By Naomi Shihab Nye Poems Academy Of Fuel Even At This Late Date, Sometimes I Have To Look Up Even At This Late Date, Sometimes I Have To Look Up The Academy Of American Poets Is The Largest Membership Based Nonprofit Organization Fostering An Appreciation For Contemporary Poetry And Supporting American Poets Fuel American Poets Continuum BookEnglish EditionAchetez Et Tlchargez Ebook Fuel American Poets Continuum BookEnglish Edition Boutique Kindle United StatesFuel By Naomi Shihab Nye Goodreads Naomi Shihab Nye S Poetry Exudes Great Heart, Compassion, And Sensitivity Her Subject Matter Touches On Personal Experiences And Also On Her Diverse Background And Heritage Of The Native American And Middle Eastern Cultures She Composes Verses With A Beauty That Reflects The Wide Range Of Emotions Shared By People All Over The World Her Observant And Delicate Eye Brings Calm To The Emotions And Fuel American Poets Continuum IndieBound Fuel American Poets Continuum Paperback By Naomi Shihab Nye BOA Editions, , Pp Publication Date June ,Fuel Poems American Poets Continuum Series Fuel Poems American Poets Continuum Series Paperback June ,by Naomi Shihab Nye Author Visits Naomi Shihab Nye Page Find All The Books, Read About The Author, AndSee Search Results For This Author Are You An Author Learn About Author Central Naomi Shihab Nye Authorout Ofstarsratings See All Formats And Editions Hide Other Formats AndFuel American Poets Continuum BookEnglish Fuel American Poets Continuum BookEnglish Edition EBook Naomi Shihab NyeKindle Shop Fuel American Poets Continuum BookKindle Fuel American Poets Continuum BookKindle Edition By Nye, Naomi Shihab Download It Once And Read It On Your Kindle Device, PC, Phones Or Tablets Use Features Like Bookmarks, Note Taking And Highlighting While Reading Fuel American Poets Continuum BookFuel American Poets Continuum, BandFuel American Poets Continuum, BandNaomi Shihab Nye ISBNKostenloser Versand Fr Alle Bcher Mit Versand Und Verkauf DuchFuel American Poets Continuum BookeBook Fuel American Poets Continuum BookeBook Nye, Naomi ShihabKindle Store Skip To Main Content Hello, Sign In Account Lists Returns Orders Try Prime Cart All Go Search Hello Select Your Address


10 thoughts on “Fuel (American Poets Continuum)

  1. says:

    Hidden

    If you place a fern
    under a stone
    the next day it will be
    nearly invisible
    as if the stone has
    swallowed it.

    If you tuck the name of a loved one
    under your tongue too long
    without speaking it
    it becomes blood
    sigh
    the little sucked-in breath of air
    hiding everywhere
    beneath your words.

    No one sees
    the fuel that feeds you.

    ==========================================


    One Boy Told Me

    Music lives inside my legs.
    It’s coming out when I talk.

    I’m going to send my valentines
    to people you don’t even know.

    Oatmeal cookies make my throat gallop.

    Grown-ups keep their feet on the ground
    when they swing. I hate that.

    Look at those 2 o’s with a smash in the middle—
    that spells good-bye.

    Don’t ever say “purpose” again,
    let’s throw the word out.

    Don’t talk big to me.
    I’m carrying my box of faces.
    If I want to change faces I will.

    Yesterday faded
    but tomorrow’s in boldface.

    When I grow up my old names
    will live in the house
    where we live now.
    I’ll come and visit them.

    Only one of my eyes is tired.
    The other eye and my body aren’t.

    Is it true all metal was liquid first?
    Does that mean if we bought our car earlier
    they could have served it
    in a cup?

    There’s a stopper in my arm
    that’s not going to let me grow any bigger.
    I’ll be like this always, small.

    And I will be deep water too.
    Wait. Just wait. How deep is the river?
    Would it cover the tallest man with his hands in the air?

    Your head is a souvenir.

    When you were in New York I could see you
    in real life walking in my mind.

    I’ll invite a bee to live in your shoe.
    What if you found your shoe
    full of honey?

    What if the clock said 6:92
    instead of 6:30? Would you be scared?

    My tongue is the car wash
    for the spoon.

    Can noodles swim?

    My toes are dictionaries.
    Do you need any words?

    From now on I’ll only drink white milk
    on January 26.

    What does minus mean?
    I never want to minus you.

    Just think—no one has ever seen
    inside this peanut before!

    It is hard being a person.

    I do and don’t love you—
    isn't that happiness?

    -BY NAOMI SHIHAB NYE


  2. says:

    As always at least one poem stood out; this time two were truly spectacular.

    BECAUSE OF LIBRARIES WE CAN SAY THESE THINGS

    She is holding the book close to her body,
    carrying it home on the cracked sidewalk,
    down the tangled hill.
    If a dog runs at her again, she will use the book as a shield.

    She looked hard among the long lines
    of books to find this one.
    When they start talking about money,
    when the day contains such long and hot places,
    she will go inside.
    An orange bed is waiting.
    Story without corners.
    She will have two families.
    They will eat at different hours.

    She is carrying a book past the fire station
    and the five-and-dime.
    What this town has not given her
    the book will provide; a sheep,
    a wilderness of new solutions.
    The book has already lived through its troubles.
    The book has a calm cover, a straight spine.

    When the step returns to itself
    as the best place for sitting,
    and the old men up and down the street
    are latching their clippers,

    she will not be alone.
    She will have a book to open
    and open and open.
    Her life starts here.

    **********

    HIDDEN

    If you place a fern
    under a stone
    the next day it will be
    nearly invisible
    as if the stone has
    swallowed it.

    If you tuck the name of a loved one
    under your tongue too long
    without speaking it
    it becomes blood
    sigh
    the little sucked-in breath of air
    hiding everywhere
    beneath your words.

    No one sees
    the fuel that feeds you.


  3. says:

    I just went to the Sigma Tau Delta Literature Conference in Louisville, Kentucky, and she signed a copy of this book for me. Just because I thought it would be cool, I had her sign a specific poem for me, instead of just the title page. It was "The Eye Test," pretty cool poem too. I really admire Naomi Nye's work, I think she's written some really original and amazing works. When I heard her speak, she's a really warm, energetic person. When somebody asked her what she wants to be remembered for, she said she wants people to remember her for working with children to continue to constantly write. I guess she's gone to countless elementary and middle schools, and talked to them about the importance of writing and reading, living in a life of language. She wants people to remember her for that more than her own writing. I think that says a lot. Definitely not a self-centered or arrogant poet.


  4. says:

    I just discovered her last month but am absolutely smitten with Naomi Shihab Nye's work. She achieves a musicality of language that I often find lacking in contemporary poetry and employs haunting, evocative phrases that, for my part, put this book only slightly below "The Rain in the Trees" (high praise indeed, if you know how highly I regard that volume of Merwin's incandescent verse). This book is truly wonderful.


  5. says:

    Naomi Shihab Nye's poetry always has the answers I didn't know I was seeking.


  6. says:

    our friend from turkey says language is so delicate / he likens it to a darling

    this book is so rich with emotion that it is almost the ultimate guide of knowing human relations. i'm very glad i got introduced to the words of miss nye!

    we will take this word in our arms. it will be small and breathing. we will not wish to scare it. pressing lips to the edge of each syllable.


  7. says:

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=biJ3FP...

    One Boy Told me

    Music lives inside my legs.
    It's coming out when I talk.

    I'm going to send my valentines
    to people you don't even know.

    Oatmeal cookies make my throat gallop.

    Grown-ups keep their feet on the ground
    when they swing. I hate that.

    Look at those 2 o's with a smash in the middle -
    that spells good-bye.

    Don't ever say "purpose" again,
    let's throw the word out.

    Don't talk big to me.
    I'm carrying my box of faces.
    If I want to change faces I will.

    Yesterday faded
    but tomorrow's in BOLDFACE.

    When I grow up my old names
    will live in the house
    where we live now.
    I'll come and visit them.

    Only one of my eyes is tired.
    The other eye and my body aren't.

    Is it true all metal was liquid first?
    Does that mean if we bought our car earlier
    they could have served it
    in a cup?

    There's a stopper in my arm
    that's not going to let me grow any bigger.
    I'll be like this always, small.

    And I will be deep water too.
    Wait. Just wait. How deep is the river?
    Would it cover the tallest man with his hands in the air?

    Your head is a souvenir.

    When you were in New York I could see you
    in real life walking in my mind.

    I'll invite a bee to live in your shoe.
    What if you found your shoe
    full of honey?

    What if the clock said 6:92
    instead of 6:30? Would you be scared?

    My tongue is the car wash
    for the spoon.

    Can noodles swim?

    My toes are dictionaries.
    Do you need any words?

    From now on I'll only drink white milk
    on January 26.

    What does minus mean?
    I never want to minus you.

    Just think - no one has ever seen
    inside this peanut before!

    It is hard being a person.

    I do and don't love you -
    isn't that happiness?

    ~ from the book.


  8. says:

    What I particularly love about Naomi Shihab Nye is that she uses lots of specific numbers in her poetry. Not just the usual suspects, such as 10,000 and 2 and 7. But the numbers sitting around patiently waiting for their turns, like 47 and 11.


  9. says:

    I first listened to Naomi Shihab Nye being interviewed by Krista Tippet on the radio show On Being. I enjoyed her gentle voice and was intrigued by a poem she read that was about an event that occurred on her honeymoon. I finally found two of her books and this is the first one that I have read.

    Her poetry is as human and gentle as her voice was during that radio interview. She takes the every day things like parents suddenly becoming uncool to their child and sees it for what it is--beautiful, hilarious and truly a rite of passage. She writes about her own family and the last time she saw one of her uncles and some things about being in Palestine. She is able to weave broader human things into the particulars of her own family and culture and still give the reader a chance to have a glimpse of what it is like to live somewhere else, to be from somewhere else.

    These are poems worth reading slowly and out loud in order to hear how the words go together and allow the reader time to enjoy what images come from them.


  10. says:

    "A boy told me
    if he roller-skated fast enough
    his loneliness couldn't catch up to him,
    the best reason I ever heard
    for trying to be a champion."


    "the woman takes it in thinking
    how this world has everything and offers it
    how it is good we only have two hands"


    My Uncle's Favorite Coffee Shop

    Serum of steam rising from the cup,
    what comfort to be known personally by Barbara,
    her perfect pouring hand and starched ascot,
    known as the two easy eggs and the single pancake,
    without saying.
    What pleasure for an immigrant -
    anything without saying.

    My uncle slid into his booth.
    "I cannot tell you - how I love this place."
    He drained the water glass, noisily clinking his ice.
    My uncle hailed from an iceless region.
    He had definite ideas about water drinking.
    "I cannot tell you" - all the time. But then he'd try.


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