Emerald Ice: Selected Poems, 1962-1987

by Diane Wakoski

In 1988, at the age of fifty, Diana Wakoski selected the poems in Emerald Ice/b> from her first sixteen books of poetry. Here are all the lyrics, series, and narratives that established Wakoski as a mythologizer of sex and self, a fierce free-verse imagist, and "one of the most important and controversial poets in the United States today" "( Contemporary Poets ).
About these poems, Wakoski "My themes are loss, justice, truth, transformation, the duality of the world, the possibilities of magic, and the creation of beauty out of ugliness. My language is dramatic, oral, and as American as I can make it. I am impatient with stupidity, bureaucracy, and organizations. Poetry, for me, is the supreme art of the individual using language to show how special, different, and wonderful his perceptions are. With verve and finesse. With discursive precision. Arid with utter contempt for pettiness of imagination or spirit." Emerald Ice is a contemporary classic, the essential poems of a uniquely American female sensibility..

Genres: Poetry, Fiction

343 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1988

About the author

Wakoski is an American poet who is primarily associated with the deep image poets such as Jerome Rothenberg, Robert Kelly, and Clayton Eshleman. Throughout her work she uses legends, myth and fairy tales to create a deeply personal mythology.

She is best known for a series of poems collectively known as "The Motorcycle Betrayal Poems."

Wakoski was given the William Carlos Williams Award for her "Emerald Ice: Selected Poetry 1962-1987."

Reviews

[Grace · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really genius poetry that sparkles, just like ice. It's like drinking art.

[Steven Godin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Past exchanges have left orbits of rain around my face,
Words used-up as the empty shell of the beetle.
I did not mean to insult you,
but perhaps wanted to scorch you with that steamy teakettle
of my 2700 years,
to tell you youth shouldn't be humble as the tablecloth,
but arrogant and fierce/
we get toothless with age;
should bite hard when we're young.
To tell you not to follow masters whose agos are sponges,
To tell you not that you had nothing to say
but that you need to pour it out at your own speed,
in an empty space where it will knock against you.
I saw the dream of the tongue floating in a bowl of water
as a desparate sacrifice. You,
giving up your own words,
You, giving up identity to float safely on display in
another man's ocean;
I saw everything that made me weep spools of rotten thread
for my own disconnected life —
drop cement trowels from my knees and
broken clocks from my elbows.
Wanting to discard the past; renege my owm life, the pain
of recognition and hate mingles with identity.
I apologize for lack of grace —
not passing you with a zen stance.
Elders should be lacquered in their place.
And women commit their words
to the dream code; toads & shooting stars in the blood,
icy milk pails,
snow,
oranges,
diamonds, eyes to the ground. Women should be
silently riding their zebras.

[m. soria · Rating 5 out of 5]

all she can do is continue to amaze me

[Susan · Rating 2 out of 5]

Per the norm for me, Wakoski starts out fairly interesting, then her poems begin to devolve into pure language poetry, a form I do not really care for. I would prefer to read poetry that is a bit more easy to decipher, I don't mind fresh, interesting metaphors and similes, but if the entire language of the poem is what I term: "too inner" I begin to think the poet is grasping, and most definitely simply putting words together to sound clever. I will admit there are some language poets I respect and do read, Wakoski has never been one for me. The more I read, the more I felt as if she were attempting to sound like Plath, but came up pale in comparison.

I began to read Wakoski in undergrad poetry workshop, because my professor commented that my poetry reminded him of her, and he advised that I read some of her work. I have tried several times over the years, but invariably lose interest.

She does indeed have some lovely work, but ironically enough, I feel her poems are a great deal like mine, several jewels amongst mediocre/middling good works.

[Augusta Leigh · Rating 3 out of 5]

Many of her "poems" are amazing, but they aren't poems in the traditional sense, at least in my opinion. They read like poems and are visually interesting though. Alongside the amazing poems are some that just don't work. Was she trying to fill a book? Was she trying too hard to repeat earlier success? I don't know, but they don't all speak to me. The ones that do speak to me are perfect. So there's that.

[Tim Lane · Rating 5 out of 5]

Essential.

[behsforensics]

Cutting is for The Father of My Country
By Diane Wakoski

Another cutting is for Love Passes Beyond the
Incredible Hawk of Innocence
By Diane Wakoski

[Barbara · Rating 5 out of 5]

A reread of a favorite collection of poems by one of my favorite poets. Diane Wakoski explores so many themes in this collection: the multiplicity of the world, truth, justice, magic, loss, making lemonade from lemons. Her perceptions are keen, and her humor is also on full display. For example, her poem "George Washington Writes Home about Harvesting His Hemp" begins with these lines:

I won't take a lot of shit
in the name of love,
smoking it
or eating it,
or shoveling it for you

Or then there is the line that really resonated, from the poem "On the Subject of Roses,"

But no one should have to choose between Mozart and Beethoven

That is the same modern-day debate as Beatles vs. Rolling Stones. I love them both. Ms. Wakoski has wonderful command of language and wordplay. And how could I not love a poem called "On Barbara's Shore"?

[Bernadette · Rating 2 out of 5]

http://rantsravesreviews.homestead.co...

[Jerry · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not really a poetry reader, but despite the crazieness, I found Wakoski fun to read.

[Doc]

A strong collection of oft confessional poetry, but never veering off into Sexton/Plath pathology

[Andrew Hodgson · Rating 3 out of 5]

There is a gift with language and a raw emotion, reminiscent in style to Ann Sexton, but how many poems about a lousy ex can you really publish? The range is limited and lines today by the end. The bad poems are truly terrible!

[Mills College Library]

811.54 W149e 1988