What do you think?
Rate this book
77 Love Sonnets
“When I was 16, Helen Fleischman assigned me to memorize Shakespeare's Sonnet No. 29, ‘When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state' for English class, and fifty years later, that poem is still in my head. Algebra got washed away, and geometry and most of biology, but those lines about the redemptive power of love in the face of shame are still here behind my eyeballs, more permanent than my own teeth. The sonnet is a durable good. These 77 of mine include sonnets of praise, some erotic, some lamentations, some street sonnets and a 12-sonnet cycle of months. If anything here offends, I beg your pardon. I come in peace, I depart in gratitude.”-Garrison Keillor Features music by Rich Dworsky. Please note content contains adult themes.
120 pages, Audio CD
First published September 16, 2008
4 people are currently reading
98 people want to read
About the author
Garrison Keillor
280 books845 followersGary Edward "Garrison" Keillor is an American author, singer, humorist, voice actor, and radio personality. He created the Minnesota Public Radio (MPR) show A Prairie Home Companion (called Garrison Keillor's Radio Show in some international syndication), which he hosted from 1974 to 2016. Keillor created the fictional Minnesota town Lake Wobegon, the setting of many of his books, including Lake Wobegon Days and Leaving Home: A Collection of Lake Wobegon Stories. Other creations include Guy Noir, a detective voiced by Keillor who appeared in A Prairie Home Companion comic skits. Keillor is also the creator of the five-minute daily radio/podcast program The Writer's Almanac, which pairs poems of his choice with a script about important literary, historical, and scientific events that coincided with that date in history.
In November 2017, Minnesota Public Radio cut all business ties with Keillor after an allegation of inappropriate behavior with a freelance writer for A Prairie Home Companion. On April 13, 2018, MPR and Keillor announced a settlement that allows archives of A Prairie Home Companion and The Writer's Almanac to be publicly available again, and soon thereafter, Keillor began publishing new episodes of The Writer's Almanac on his website. He also continues to tour a stage version of A Prairie Home Companion, although these shows are not broadcast by MPR or American Public Media.
In November 2017, Minnesota Public Radio cut all business ties with Keillor after an allegation of inappropriate behavior with a freelance writer for A Prairie Home Companion. On April 13, 2018, MPR and Keillor announced a settlement that allows archives of A Prairie Home Companion and The Writer's Almanac to be publicly available again, and soon thereafter, Keillor began publishing new episodes of The Writer's Almanac on his website. He also continues to tour a stage version of A Prairie Home Companion, although these shows are not broadcast by MPR or American Public Media.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 39 reviews
December 3, 2009
First, let me say that this book is the archotype example of why I don't want a kindle. It is the perfect size and weight, has a nice, thick, textured cover paper, and is just nice to hold.
I once read a book called You Drive Me Crazy Love Poems for Real Life. It was not very good and did not, in my opinion, really live up to its title for being love poems for every day life. This book, a collection of Sonnets by Garrison Keillor does. It finds love in the simple places and the simple things.
The book also gave me a new perspective on Garrison Keillor, whom I grew up listening to on his weekly "Prarie Home Companion" radio show. Themes of faith and doubt, impending mortality, the plurality of love, and a craving of adventure run throughout the book. Quite intriguing.
I once read a book called You Drive Me Crazy Love Poems for Real Life. It was not very good and did not, in my opinion, really live up to its title for being love poems for every day life. This book, a collection of Sonnets by Garrison Keillor does. It finds love in the simple places and the simple things.
The book also gave me a new perspective on Garrison Keillor, whom I grew up listening to on his weekly "Prarie Home Companion" radio show. Themes of faith and doubt, impending mortality, the plurality of love, and a craving of adventure run throughout the book. Quite intriguing.
August 14, 2016
Most of them are truly beautiful, many of them will be with me forever. Some of them are downright raunchy, which wouldn't make me as uncomfortable if it were anyone other than Garrison Keillor. I must remind myself that I will someday be that old too.
February 20, 2024
Some of the worst poetry I've read in a while and not all of them are love poems.
April 11, 2025
The audiobook was crazzyyyy. Guy started singing.
Really grew on me when you accept the book for what it is: some old guy with a mid-life crisis writing bad poetry about sex and aging. Don't know why I was surprised when the sex poetry showed up. I totally forgot the cover is a naked woman. That's on me I guess
Really grew on me when you accept the book for what it is: some old guy with a mid-life crisis writing bad poetry about sex and aging. Don't know why I was surprised when the sex poetry showed up. I totally forgot the cover is a naked woman. That's on me I guess
February 15, 2015
Ah, how I love this book. He describes such simple moments with a depth of emotion. I first discovered this book 4 years ago when I couldn't give it up, so I cancelled my Valentine's day date. It has become a welcomed tradition, to read this lovely book every Valentine's Day. Thank you, Garrison Keillor.
August 29, 2022
A Wide-Ranging Sonnet Sequence
A sonnet sequence is not just a collection of sonnets. It is the portrait of a mind in motion over a period of time, usually unified by a central theme. The sonnets in a sequence tend to address that theme from a variety of perspectives, with widely different tones and variations on the 14-line sonnet form. Garrison Keillor's 77 Love Sonnets fits these expectations of a sonnet sequence in almost every way. Though different kinds of love are evoked in different sonnets--loves of wives, a daughter, early crushes, favorite authors, favorite foods and places--the central story seems to concern the love of the speaker for a younger woman, from the beginning of the relationship to the end of it. A few of the poems are lighthearted throwaways, but most are trying to say something true about being in a relationship. Some of the truths are euphoric, some carnal, some wrenching. But they all speak convincingly with the authority of lived experience, evoking obsession without being boringly repetitive about it.
Keillor is adept at rhyme, using slant rhyme as well as clever and humorous full rhymes (passion/cash in, immersed/liverwurst). He guides the argument of each poem well, so that the turn that is an essential part of the structure of the sonnet flows naturally out of what has come before. His diction is mainly straightforward and colloquial, but peppered with a few allusions and some vivid metaphors, especially in the more erotic sonnets. If he occasionally goes for an easy joke or sentiment in the concluding couplet, instead of facing some of the harder issues the poems raise, there is still plenty of darkness in the poems, and most do not come across as merely glib.
What is largely missing from these sonnets is meter. One poem, "Prayer," has rhymed couplets of widely varying line lengths, reminiscent of Ogden Nash. Another, "Table Grace," has rhymed couplets in a thumpingly regular four-beat line. Yet another, "Nude Study," is fourteen lines of free verse. The vast majority, however, have rhymed lines of roughly uniform length, but varying from three to six beats per line, in rhythms that are conversational rather than metrical. Keillor is playing to his strengths as a talker, a humorist, and a storyteller, but what is lost is the grand word-music that is one of the sonnet's traditional assets. The poems speak well, but they don't sing.
If Keillor does not exploit all of the sonic potential of the sonnet, he still writes poems that are clear, interesting, varied, and emotionally resonant. He speaks to ordinary readers about things they can relate to, in language that is immediately understandable. Readers will not feel that a sonnet of his is something they have to decode. Those who enjoy the pleasures of rhyme, structure, emotion, clarity, and accessibility, but who would like to see what meter can add to the mix, should look at the poems of such contemporary sonnet writers as Dick Davis, Rhina Espaillat, R. S. Gwynn, A. E. Stallings, Deborah Warren, Catherine Tufariello, and others.
A sonnet sequence is not just a collection of sonnets. It is the portrait of a mind in motion over a period of time, usually unified by a central theme. The sonnets in a sequence tend to address that theme from a variety of perspectives, with widely different tones and variations on the 14-line sonnet form. Garrison Keillor's 77 Love Sonnets fits these expectations of a sonnet sequence in almost every way. Though different kinds of love are evoked in different sonnets--loves of wives, a daughter, early crushes, favorite authors, favorite foods and places--the central story seems to concern the love of the speaker for a younger woman, from the beginning of the relationship to the end of it. A few of the poems are lighthearted throwaways, but most are trying to say something true about being in a relationship. Some of the truths are euphoric, some carnal, some wrenching. But they all speak convincingly with the authority of lived experience, evoking obsession without being boringly repetitive about it.
Keillor is adept at rhyme, using slant rhyme as well as clever and humorous full rhymes (passion/cash in, immersed/liverwurst). He guides the argument of each poem well, so that the turn that is an essential part of the structure of the sonnet flows naturally out of what has come before. His diction is mainly straightforward and colloquial, but peppered with a few allusions and some vivid metaphors, especially in the more erotic sonnets. If he occasionally goes for an easy joke or sentiment in the concluding couplet, instead of facing some of the harder issues the poems raise, there is still plenty of darkness in the poems, and most do not come across as merely glib.
What is largely missing from these sonnets is meter. One poem, "Prayer," has rhymed couplets of widely varying line lengths, reminiscent of Ogden Nash. Another, "Table Grace," has rhymed couplets in a thumpingly regular four-beat line. Yet another, "Nude Study," is fourteen lines of free verse. The vast majority, however, have rhymed lines of roughly uniform length, but varying from three to six beats per line, in rhythms that are conversational rather than metrical. Keillor is playing to his strengths as a talker, a humorist, and a storyteller, but what is lost is the grand word-music that is one of the sonnet's traditional assets. The poems speak well, but they don't sing.
If Keillor does not exploit all of the sonic potential of the sonnet, he still writes poems that are clear, interesting, varied, and emotionally resonant. He speaks to ordinary readers about things they can relate to, in language that is immediately understandable. Readers will not feel that a sonnet of his is something they have to decode. Those who enjoy the pleasures of rhyme, structure, emotion, clarity, and accessibility, but who would like to see what meter can add to the mix, should look at the poems of such contemporary sonnet writers as Dick Davis, Rhina Espaillat, R. S. Gwynn, A. E. Stallings, Deborah Warren, Catherine Tufariello, and others.
September 23, 2009
This post was originally posted by me over at Guys Lit Wire.
If you've seen A Prairie Home Companion on PBS, or the movie of the same name starring Meryl Streep, or if you listen to National Public Radio (NPR) either voluntarily or because your folks have it on in the car, you might have some idea who Garrison Keillor is. If you're a writer or a fan of reading, you might be interested in his daily broadcast/online column The Writer's Almanac, in which Keillor shares a poem a day (pretty much always by someone else), and information on writers or poets who were born, died, or otherwise did something of particular note on this particular day in history. He's also compiled a couple of poetry anthologies, (i.e., Good Poems and Good Poems for Hard Times), containing the work of a lot of poets, living and dead. But I digress.
Today's post, you see, is about a small pink book of poems entitled 77 Love Sonnets , now available in local bookstores (and online) pretty much everywhere. And these poems - all of them sonnets of one kind or another - are actually written by Keillor. I think that Keillor's note, found on the back of the slim volume, explains the contents well, and succinctly:
A sonnet is a particular form of poem. It consists of 14 lines. There are two exceedingly traditional forms - the Shakespearean sonnet and the Italianate or Petrarchan sonnet (which allows a bit more latitude in rhyme scheme). Both of those forms traditionally use something called iambic pentameter (ten syllables per line, organized into 5 iambic "feet" - taDUM taDUM taDUM taDUM taDUM). Over time, however, increasing flexibility in rhyme schemes and meters crept in. That said, most sonnets continue to consist of 14 lines, some sort of rhyme scheme (even if slant rhyme or near rhyme is used), and the presence of something called a volta or "turn", usually found somewhere around the ninth line of a sonnet, but sometimes not appearing until the final two lines.
Here is an example of one of Keillor's less erotic poems about a couple in love:
This particular poem uses slant rhyme, and follows this rhyme scheme: ABBACDCDEFEFGG.
Here, from page 65 of the volume, is a Shakespearean sonnet (ABABCDCDEFEFGG)entitled "The Anger of Women":
There are sonnets that are sexy and sonnets that are funny; sonnets that are a bit dour and some that are divine. The book is, above all, proof of the flexibility and continued vitality of the sonnet. And even though it's pink, and even though it's by some guy who your parents or grandparents like from the land of Public Broadcasting, this is one book that's worth a look. Take a look at the poem entitled "Obama", perhaps. Or at the series of twelve poems, each named after a different month of the year. Or, well, look at "Room 704" if you don't believe me:
If you've seen A Prairie Home Companion on PBS, or the movie of the same name starring Meryl Streep, or if you listen to National Public Radio (NPR) either voluntarily or because your folks have it on in the car, you might have some idea who Garrison Keillor is. If you're a writer or a fan of reading, you might be interested in his daily broadcast/online column The Writer's Almanac, in which Keillor shares a poem a day (pretty much always by someone else), and information on writers or poets who were born, died, or otherwise did something of particular note on this particular day in history. He's also compiled a couple of poetry anthologies, (i.e., Good Poems and Good Poems for Hard Times), containing the work of a lot of poets, living and dead. But I digress.
Today's post, you see, is about a small pink book of poems entitled 77 Love Sonnets , now available in local bookstores (and online) pretty much everywhere. And these poems - all of them sonnets of one kind or another - are actually written by Keillor. I think that Keillor's note, found on the back of the slim volume, explains the contents well, and succinctly:
When I was 16, Helen Fleischman assigned me to memorize Shakespeare's Sonnet No. 29, 'When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state' for English class, and fifty years later, that poem is still in my head. Algebra got washed away, and geometry and most of biology, but those lines about the redemptive power of love in the face of shame are still here behind my eyeballs, more permanent than my own teeth. The sonnet is a durable good. These 77 of mine include sonnets of praise, some erotic, some lamentations, some street sonnets and a 12-sonnet cycle of months. If anything here offends, I beg your pardon. I come in peace, I depart in gratitude.
A sonnet is a particular form of poem. It consists of 14 lines. There are two exceedingly traditional forms - the Shakespearean sonnet and the Italianate or Petrarchan sonnet (which allows a bit more latitude in rhyme scheme). Both of those forms traditionally use something called iambic pentameter (ten syllables per line, organized into 5 iambic "feet" - taDUM taDUM taDUM taDUM taDUM). Over time, however, increasing flexibility in rhyme schemes and meters crept in. That said, most sonnets continue to consist of 14 lines, some sort of rhyme scheme (even if slant rhyme or near rhyme is used), and the presence of something called a volta or "turn", usually found somewhere around the ninth line of a sonnet, but sometimes not appearing until the final two lines.
Here is an example of one of Keillor's less erotic poems about a couple in love:
A Couple on the Street
by Garrison Keillor
Apparently they are a scandalous pair,
Strolling the main drag, not quite hand in hand,
The tall young woman and the dazed old man.
And old ladies turn like wounded birds and stare
And shake their great red wattles and curse
And young women smirk at this ludicrous romance--
But see how tenderly his eyes seek hers
And their elbows brush-- and, defiant, they hold hands
And dare to gaze at each other. She is avid
To be loved and love leaps up from them
As music sprang from Mozart, and they can have it
All, Don Giovanni and the Requiem.
"Fools!" the ladies cry. "It should not and cannot be!"
And they are right. But O the sweetness and the courtesy.
This particular poem uses slant rhyme, and follows this rhyme scheme: ABBACDCDEFEFGG.
Here, from page 65 of the volume, is a Shakespearean sonnet (ABABCDCDEFEFGG)entitled "The Anger of Women":
The anger of women pervades the rooms
Like a cold snap, and you wait for the thaw
To open the window and air out the anger fumes,
And then a right hook KA-POW to the jaw!
And she says three jagged things about you
And then it's over. She bursts into tears,
The storm spent, the sky turns sky-blue.
But a man's heart can hurt for many years.
I have found the anger of women unbearable.
And when my goddesses have cursed the day
They met me and said those terrible
Things, I folded my tent and stole away.
I yielded to their righteous dominion
And went off in search of another opinion.
There are sonnets that are sexy and sonnets that are funny; sonnets that are a bit dour and some that are divine. The book is, above all, proof of the flexibility and continued vitality of the sonnet. And even though it's pink, and even though it's by some guy who your parents or grandparents like from the land of Public Broadcasting, this is one book that's worth a look. Take a look at the poem entitled "Obama", perhaps. Or at the series of twelve poems, each named after a different month of the year. Or, well, look at "Room 704" if you don't believe me:
The tennis players volley on the bright green court.
Slipping and sliding to and fro while up above
Them, spread naked on a bed in room 704,
A young woman sings the aria of burning love--
Her lover's head between her legs, her feet on his back,
And she is singing for pleasure, while outside
The streets are cleaned, construction is on track,
The buses come on time and people board and ride
And she lies, eyes closed, hands holding his, and moans
As he addresses her with all deliberate passion.
And the clerks sort the mail into the correct zones
And all the ATM machines have sufficient cash in.
Good sir, don't stop. We each must do our duty.
Some drive the bus and others drive the beauty.
Read
January 5, 2023most of these poems were good but not great, sometimes they were downright cringe. It was satisfying to get to the end of each of them though which I liked. I also liked the ones that were more specific to his life. There were some moments in his style that were satisfyingly journalistic. But this guy strikes me as a creep and a womanizer tho and he seems bad at relationships and doesn’t respect women. I also hated hearing about what he ate for breakfast
I read his wiki page before the book also
I read his wiki page before the book also
September 26, 2022
There was a time in my life where Garrison Keillor's voice defined a lot of my family's time together. We listened to prairie home companion a lot at my childhood cabin. ANNNND then the true nature of Garrison's character came out, I found this book to be middle of the road because I could not sink into any of his affectionate musings knowing what he's really like with women.
Two stars for some interesting metaphors and that's about it.
Two stars for some interesting metaphors and that's about it.
March 1, 2019
Definitely disappointed in this collection.....not all are sonnets on love. Cover and title are a bit misleading, I think. And it wasn't one I could read in a sitting; it became a bit tedious/boring and I had to break it up.
April 26, 2022
I picked this up because I enjoy poetry. The synopsis also looked interesting. I got this as a playaway from the library and had no idea he would be singing to me the whole time. I'm sure in print this is better but as presented to me it was comical and I am not sure if that was the aim.
December 1, 2023
I believe that audiobook is the way this is meant to be experienced, but I also didnt realize Keillor was the Praire Home Companion man. I had not set my expectations correctly and was caught off guard at the beginning of the listen. Definitely not the book's fault! I found the sonnets fun
August 10, 2025
Title should be 77 porn sonnets because what in the world! There’s more than 77 sonnets , not all of them are love sonnets. After every chapter there’s a picture of someone’s ass , I don’t know what I was thinking, considering there’s a naked woman on the cover.
Read
December 19, 2019The love poem to the bookshop ❤️
November 22, 2021
Obviously, get the audiobook; Garrison Keillor reads it himself, and will represent his work better than anyone else ever could.
July 11, 2025
Classic Garrison Keillor. Never rises to great transports of passion, and containing portions I wouldn't read with my mother present, but always homey and with a heart of good humor.
October 17, 2016
I'd have to listen again to judge this as poetry, but it was nice to listen to. I typically tune out the poems on Prairie Home Companion cause some are just kind of awkward from Garrison Keillor. Taken as a whole, they're warm and generous and comforting, like the poetry equivalent of a fluffy blanket and a mug of tea.
July 17, 2024
Meh. Two poems I liked. The rest were not my favorite. I’m starting to wonder if I scrutinize male poets more than non-male poets….shocker.
December 24, 2013
A range of unassuming poems (most sonnet-like but minus the iambic pentameter) celebrating the Midwest, Baltimore, making love, taxi cabs, the first reader who pulled his submission from the slushpile, a chorus class crush, a seed catalog, his wife, his daughter, domestic bliss and the urge to escape it... Meditations on dark self-doubts, the end of life, departing lovers, the anger of women, lost children, and fallen soldiers…
They are charming but not masterful, and I’m not sure this book would have come into existence without Keillor’s name on it. But it is interesting to see this other side of him, and there are undoubtedly moments of quiet genius, honest emotion, and stirring poetry to discover throughout.
Readers and writers are two sides of the same gold coin.
You write and I read and in that moment I find
A union more perfect than any club I could join:
The simple intimacy of being one mind.
Here in a book-filled sun-lit room below the street,
Strangers – some living, some dead – are hoping to meet.
From “November”
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Shakespeare already did that, long before us
So I will compare thee to a summer’s night, okay?
Vibrating keenly like this insect chorus
From “Shall I”
Life is absurd. A man can count on that.
From “In Disgrace”
I loved her quickness and her heads-up style,
Her cool hand as she beat me hands down –
She is the shooting star of the Black Irish Squad
And I am the man who sets her up, by God.
From “Hoops”
As we look at these gravestones, row on row on row,
See the men as they were, laughing and joking,
On that bright irreverent morning long ago,
And once more, let our hearts be broken.
God have mercy on them for their unhappy gift.
May we live the good lives they might have lived
From “May”
But now I have grown much too fond of this
Screened porch, the majestic terrace with a view
Of river valley, the kitchen, the deliciousness
Of coffee and music, to look for something new.
Though sometimes I awaken at first light
And feel the urge – get up, get going out of sight.
From “This Life”
My love is like a red red rose but also like daffodils
Who haste away too soon for time is flying
And this splendor in the grass, like birds’ madrigals,
Is fading in the west. Egypt, we are dying.
From “My Love”
We worry about our grandchildren and greenhouse gases
And then we get in the car and venture forth
In blind faith that a bad spell eventually passes,
A faith we were brought up with her in the North.
We are a taciturn people and we have known dark nights
When ghosts attacked us and recrimination and remorse,
And we got up, put on a bathrobe, turned on a few lights,
Made tea, and said nothing about it to anyone of course.
From “February”
Dozy in August on a battered screened porch
Overlooking a green meadow as 24 Holstein cows
Swaying enormous white udders march
Down the dirt road to the barn behind the house.
We rock in ancient chairs, languorously,
Listening to an old farmer reminisce
About those who sat here long before you and me
And drank black coffee as weak as this
And anguished over perilous sickness and war
And thought, as we do, about the basic mysteries.
They took some comfort from this porch
On just such placid afternoons as these.
The bumblebees are blitzing the sunflowers.
God owns tomorrow but today is ours.
“Holsteins”
They are charming but not masterful, and I’m not sure this book would have come into existence without Keillor’s name on it. But it is interesting to see this other side of him, and there are undoubtedly moments of quiet genius, honest emotion, and stirring poetry to discover throughout.
Readers and writers are two sides of the same gold coin.
You write and I read and in that moment I find
A union more perfect than any club I could join:
The simple intimacy of being one mind.
Here in a book-filled sun-lit room below the street,
Strangers – some living, some dead – are hoping to meet.
From “November”
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Shakespeare already did that, long before us
So I will compare thee to a summer’s night, okay?
Vibrating keenly like this insect chorus
From “Shall I”
Life is absurd. A man can count on that.
From “In Disgrace”
I loved her quickness and her heads-up style,
Her cool hand as she beat me hands down –
She is the shooting star of the Black Irish Squad
And I am the man who sets her up, by God.
From “Hoops”
As we look at these gravestones, row on row on row,
See the men as they were, laughing and joking,
On that bright irreverent morning long ago,
And once more, let our hearts be broken.
God have mercy on them for their unhappy gift.
May we live the good lives they might have lived
From “May”
But now I have grown much too fond of this
Screened porch, the majestic terrace with a view
Of river valley, the kitchen, the deliciousness
Of coffee and music, to look for something new.
Though sometimes I awaken at first light
And feel the urge – get up, get going out of sight.
From “This Life”
My love is like a red red rose but also like daffodils
Who haste away too soon for time is flying
And this splendor in the grass, like birds’ madrigals,
Is fading in the west. Egypt, we are dying.
From “My Love”
We worry about our grandchildren and greenhouse gases
And then we get in the car and venture forth
In blind faith that a bad spell eventually passes,
A faith we were brought up with her in the North.
We are a taciturn people and we have known dark nights
When ghosts attacked us and recrimination and remorse,
And we got up, put on a bathrobe, turned on a few lights,
Made tea, and said nothing about it to anyone of course.
From “February”
Dozy in August on a battered screened porch
Overlooking a green meadow as 24 Holstein cows
Swaying enormous white udders march
Down the dirt road to the barn behind the house.
We rock in ancient chairs, languorously,
Listening to an old farmer reminisce
About those who sat here long before you and me
And drank black coffee as weak as this
And anguished over perilous sickness and war
And thought, as we do, about the basic mysteries.
They took some comfort from this porch
On just such placid afternoons as these.
The bumblebees are blitzing the sunflowers.
God owns tomorrow but today is ours.
“Holsteins”
August 15, 2010
While Garrison Keillor is best known for Prairie Home Companion and Lake Wobegon, he has also made a name for himself as a novelist and a lover of poetry. He produces the Writer's Almanac for National Public Radio where he reads a poem daily. He has edited two poetry anthologies: Good Poems and Good Poems for Hard Times.
In 2009 Common Good Books published a collection Keillor's sonnets and while they are not great poems, they are good poems. Good Poems which I consider to be the best anthology of poetry that I have read has been criticized by some people for containing average poetry. Keillor seeks and promotes poetry that is accessible to the common man. His 77 love sonnets in this book are very accessible and easy to read.
One of my favorites is the first poem in the book:
Prayer
Here I am O Lord and here is my prayer:
Please be there.
Don't want to ask too much, miracles and such—
Just whisper in the air: please be there.
When I die like other folks,
Don't want to find out You're a hoax.
So I'm not on my knees asking for world peace
Or that the polar icecap freeze
And save the polar bear
Or even that the poor be fed
Or angels hover o'er my bed
But I will sure be pissed
If I should have been an atheist.
O Lord, please exist.
The humor in this poem is trademark Garrison Keillor. Unfortunately, I believe much of the humor in these poems is lost on the printed page. I would love to listen to Keillor read the poems and I am sure I would be laughing all the way through.
In a sonnet entitled November, Keillor writes about a bookstore in which he compares it to an old father. I quote from the poem:
"A bookstore is for people who love books and need
To touch them, open them, browse for awhile,
and find some common good—that's why we read."
Many of the sonnets deal with the love of a woman, death and old age. Here is one of his poems on love:
Christine
Christine was the smartest girl in the eleventh grade,
Tall with dark hair tied up in a tight French braid,
The only girl I knew who read Albert Camus,
And for that very reason I did, too.
I stood behind her in choir, a lonesome baritone,
But when I smelled her exotic French cologne
And felt the existential heat of her body,
I became Luciano Pavarotti.
In chorus when I was seventeen
I met the mysterious Christine,
The tall dark girl whom I adored
And when we sang praises to the Lord
I gave praise to the back of Christine's head
And sang to her what never could be said.
In 2009 Common Good Books published a collection Keillor's sonnets and while they are not great poems, they are good poems. Good Poems which I consider to be the best anthology of poetry that I have read has been criticized by some people for containing average poetry. Keillor seeks and promotes poetry that is accessible to the common man. His 77 love sonnets in this book are very accessible and easy to read.
One of my favorites is the first poem in the book:
Prayer
Here I am O Lord and here is my prayer:
Please be there.
Don't want to ask too much, miracles and such—
Just whisper in the air: please be there.
When I die like other folks,
Don't want to find out You're a hoax.
So I'm not on my knees asking for world peace
Or that the polar icecap freeze
And save the polar bear
Or even that the poor be fed
Or angels hover o'er my bed
But I will sure be pissed
If I should have been an atheist.
O Lord, please exist.
The humor in this poem is trademark Garrison Keillor. Unfortunately, I believe much of the humor in these poems is lost on the printed page. I would love to listen to Keillor read the poems and I am sure I would be laughing all the way through.
In a sonnet entitled November, Keillor writes about a bookstore in which he compares it to an old father. I quote from the poem:
"A bookstore is for people who love books and need
To touch them, open them, browse for awhile,
and find some common good—that's why we read."
Many of the sonnets deal with the love of a woman, death and old age. Here is one of his poems on love:
Christine
Christine was the smartest girl in the eleventh grade,
Tall with dark hair tied up in a tight French braid,
The only girl I knew who read Albert Camus,
And for that very reason I did, too.
I stood behind her in choir, a lonesome baritone,
But when I smelled her exotic French cologne
And felt the existential heat of her body,
I became Luciano Pavarotti.
In chorus when I was seventeen
I met the mysterious Christine,
The tall dark girl whom I adored
And when we sang praises to the Lord
I gave praise to the back of Christine's head
And sang to her what never could be said.
June 1, 2011
I know Garrison Keillor from years and years of listening to A Prairie Home Companion and, more recently, The Writer's Almanac, and various cameos in films, but I had never read anything of his. Reading this sweet book of sonnets confirms what a GREAT writer he is. Smart and witty, but not over my head. Sweet and sentimental, and sometimes melancholy, but not sappy or depressing. These are really lovely poems, and I HIGHLY recommend this book, just published in 2009. They sound really good read aloud, too. Although I skipped some of the more intimate poems, I really enjoyed reading them aloud to Emma, and she enjoyed hearing them.
Here's one of my favorites:
Chopin
On a winter afternoon she plays Chopin,
A wistful piano etude on a snowy day,
Skidding on a tricky passage in the left hand,
Trying to tell me in a delicate way
That even in this cold season love can endure
And be green again, which I do want to believe,
Despite my unconstannt heart--I crave more
Love, more and more and still more--to give
Affection by the bushel! I don't want to schedule
Love, I want it to pour out--a round of songs,
Feasts, the delirium of dance, total capitul-
Ation, a flight to Paris--and then it bongs,
The old clock in the corner. Ten times. It's dark,
And I'm old, and O how beautiful you are.
Here's one of my favorites:
Chopin
On a winter afternoon she plays Chopin,
A wistful piano etude on a snowy day,
Skidding on a tricky passage in the left hand,
Trying to tell me in a delicate way
That even in this cold season love can endure
And be green again, which I do want to believe,
Despite my unconstannt heart--I crave more
Love, more and more and still more--to give
Affection by the bushel! I don't want to schedule
Love, I want it to pour out--a round of songs,
Feasts, the delirium of dance, total capitul-
Ation, a flight to Paris--and then it bongs,
The old clock in the corner. Ten times. It's dark,
And I'm old, and O how beautiful you are.
November 19, 2020
After being introduced to the enchanting world of Keillor's "Writer's Almanac", I was pleasantly surprised to learn he himself writes exquisite poetry. These love sonnets have an openness to sexual expression reminiscent of Prince, yet with the gentleness of Mr. Rogers. The sonnets are a reaction to the sometimes maddening nature of desire and sex, but Keillor brings an evolved, ethereal reflection to the feral genetic whispers of our ancestors. I found myself blushing in coffee shops, looking around to see if anyone could see my heart rate increasing.
That's not to say every poem is sexy, just as Love has many other closets and foyers.
"The peevish voice of the wife in the kitchen, and me with nothing wonderful to show her." I mean, that's two very contradicting attitudes there, and both so true!
"I wanted to live several lives, which meant abandoning some" where he talks about his unfaithfulness to his wife. Goodness. I could go on and on but sonnets aren't long and you should just read them yourself.
That's not to say every poem is sexy, just as Love has many other closets and foyers.
"The peevish voice of the wife in the kitchen, and me with nothing wonderful to show her." I mean, that's two very contradicting attitudes there, and both so true!
"I wanted to live several lives, which meant abandoning some" where he talks about his unfaithfulness to his wife. Goodness. I could go on and on but sonnets aren't long and you should just read them yourself.
June 25, 2010
I highly recommend this small and accessible book for summer reading: bring it with you to the porch swing, beach chair, or lawn concert. I presume that all of these sonnets are slices of Keillor's own life, but perhaps some are tale-spinners instead. The sonnets consider both Eros and Thanatos, romantic bliss and romantic troubles, fatherly devotion, and physical passion (a few of the erotic poems would be unsuitable for Prairie Home Companion). "Love" encompasses celebratory occasion poems ("Obama," etc.), praise songs (for bookstores, places traveled) as well as heartbreak ("Updike" elegy, etc.). And, yes, there's even a kind of Writer's Almanac herein: a series of 12 poems, one for each month of the year. After reading this collection (which took me less than 77 minutes), I couldn't wait to go write my own sonnets.
December 29, 2011
Garrison Keillor, a well-known radio personality, writer, and syndicated columnist, has written a series of sonnets, but with contemporary poetry. He writes about his love of his wife, early crushes, months of the year, favorite authors, a younger woman, etc., in which he points out a universal truth about relationships. Some are lighthearted and others tear at your heart.
I must admit I didn't like these sonnets at the beginning, especially the first two sections, but as I read, I found a few poems that were extraordinary. Yes, these poems are in sonnet form, and his rhymes are frequently witty and original, but there's no meter regularity as in a traditional sonnet. Keillor writes his poetry as if he were talking to you.
I must admit I didn't like these sonnets at the beginning, especially the first two sections, but as I read, I found a few poems that were extraordinary. Yes, these poems are in sonnet form, and his rhymes are frequently witty and original, but there's no meter regularity as in a traditional sonnet. Keillor writes his poetry as if he were talking to you.
June 9, 2014
Garrison Keillor is a first rate poet as these sonnets unerringly convince us, one after another. I have been rereading them now for months.
Think Steve Martin, playwright and not Garrison Keillor, radio host. This is a serious work of literary fiction that casts its line, over and over again, back into Modernism.
He addresses many aspects of love with tenderness, wit and pith. Sex and lovemaking get their due. His grief is palpable over lost love. I adore his directness, his imagery rooted in action, which is so pleasing in a love sonnet. Very readable and lovely poems that made me sigh and think, "what a man! What a feminist! What a poet!"
Makes a terrific gift for the poetry lover on your list.
Think Steve Martin, playwright and not Garrison Keillor, radio host. This is a serious work of literary fiction that casts its line, over and over again, back into Modernism.
He addresses many aspects of love with tenderness, wit and pith. Sex and lovemaking get their due. His grief is palpable over lost love. I adore his directness, his imagery rooted in action, which is so pleasing in a love sonnet. Very readable and lovely poems that made me sigh and think, "what a man! What a feminist! What a poet!"
Makes a terrific gift for the poetry lover on your list.
October 10, 2012
I love when Keillor recommends the poetry of others. I don't, however, like his poetry so much, especially all the poems about his sex life. I could have lived without those descriptions.
I also take issue with his poem about Obama, where he says that, with the election of Obama, America was "justified at last as a nation of by God true ideals, True beginnings, to which we now return--Created equal, justice under law." Until we elect a woman president, I won't think that we've 100% addressed that ALL Americans are created equal.
I also take issue with his poem about Obama, where he says that, with the election of Obama, America was "justified at last as a nation of by God true ideals, True beginnings, to which we now return--Created equal, justice under law." Until we elect a woman president, I won't think that we've 100% addressed that ALL Americans are created equal.
August 1, 2012
Garrison Keillor. I have so many thoughts and feelings about the man. Sometimes I laugh and I love him. Sometimes I think he is a pompous, ugly, and mean man. Sometimes I think he has his finger on the pulse of humanity. And I think that is exactly how his sonnets were. Some were so beautiful that I wanted tovreread them and memorize them and copy them in pretty notebooks. Others were crass and crude. Some I just laughed and thought--yes, that is exactly what that feeling is.
September 29, 2009
Of course what we all need to read every day.... be sure to sign up for daily emailed "The Writer's Almanac", also from Garrison. I have to say I thought this was a book of sonnets collected by Garrison, but they're actually written by him. I've liked his collections a bit more - like 'Good Poems for Hard Times'.
May 17, 2010
This isn't Shakespeare, but it is interesting, fun as well as funny, informative, and very enjoyable, displaying much wisdon and intelligence, a lot like Keillor's radio program "Prairie Home Companion."
July 18, 2011
These poems were well crafted and quite enjoyable. They are erotic without being dirty, thoughtful, and accessible. Much like much in Keillor's writing, just when you think you are merely being entertained, you get slapped in the face with something poignant.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 39 reviews