Shadow Ball: New and Selected Poems

by Charles Harper Webb

An accessible new and selected collection of poems for poetry insiders and general readers. Powerful, passionate, humorous, and often complex, yet fun to read. They go down easy, but pack a whallop.

Genres: Poetry

144 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2009

Reviews

[Jujuman13 · Rating 5 out of 5]

Webb is operating at the very highest level. Funny and profound, he's been conjuring literary magic for decades. He never disappoints.

[Antonia · Rating 4 out of 5]

I wasn't as thrilled with this collection as many writers have been, judging from reviews -- though I do like Webb in general and have really enjoyed hearing him read. Some of these were just too prosy for me, perhaps. And some of the subjects just didn't hold me. By far, my favorite poem was "Prozac ," which was originally published in his collection, Liver. That's the only one I felt compelled to read aloud to my husband.

Some of more of Webb's poems are posted at The Cortland Review.

Webb's statement of poetics.

You might also enjoy his discussion of "The Wife of the Mind" at How A Poem Happens.

[Gregory · Rating 4 out of 5]

Masculine poetry with the occasional sensitive side. Addresses topics that resonates with guys. I had a chance to do some poetic interpretation at a semi-slam (no battles) and after finding Mr. Webb's book I chose two poems. "Superman Old" which is kind of self explanatory and "Big" the saga of a TV screen that was, well just too big. The folks I performed for loved them. Thanks Mr. Webb for a great collection of excellent poetry.

[Tom Romig · Rating 4 out of 5]

Funny, fresh, frank. You want an astute, original, and often startling take on life and relationships, check out Charles Web.

[Kirsten · Rating 1 out of 5]

Dear Mallory,

I am afraid I have judged you harshly. When I found this book at a library book sale a few months ago, I could not understand why anyone would get rid of a book that was personalized to them. There must be something wrong with her. Maybe she has no taste.

After reading 30 pages, I can see why you unhauled this, Mallory. Personally, I enjoy confessional poetry as well as modern poetry. I think the relatableness of both styles is the only thing keeping poetry alive in 2017. While I did enjoy "Prayer for the Man Who Mugged My Father, 72", most of the poetry in Shadow Ball was not written in a style I enjoyed.

I'm sure fans of this collection would say I did not understand it. I assume it is possible they said the same thing to you. However, there is a difference between great poetry and pretentious drivel. I wonder if you saw a deeper meaning in "Broken Toe". While I enjoyed it, I detect no deeper meaning from the description of a broken toe. It is the same with "Peaches", where Webb tells the story of something he saw his neighbors doing. Besides reveiling that he is a peeping Tom, what was the point of exposing this secret in this poem? I cannot find one and I do not think I will ever will.

While I feel the poems here are nothing more than the poet showing that he can be descriptive, some of the words he used are what convinced me to not finish this book. In "Wedding Dress", the word pecker is used. I immediately stopped when I read that word. It is not the vulgerness that stopped me, but the fact that I have not heard that word used since I was 10 and I overheard the boys at school talking about their penises. It was so juvenile to my ears. If this was the only example of horrible word choice, you would probably consider me to be overreacting. However, I believe you saw what I did, Mallory. Did you read "Invocation to Allen as the Muse Euterpe"? Who uses the word turd to decribe anything in poetry? Apparently, Mr. Webb does and I'm not interested in finding more of these word choices.

I am sorry I misjudged your taste, Mallory. Obviously, you did not enjoy these poems either. I am following your lead and unhauling this collection as well. It will go back the library. Maybe the next home it finds will be more permant.

Sincerly,
Kirsten