null
Loading... Please wait...
FREE SHIPPING on All Unbranded Items LEARN MORE
Print This Page

Holding Our Own (The Selected Poetry of Ann Stanford)

List Price: $17.00
SKU:
9781556591587
Quantity:
Minimum Purchase
25 unit(s)
  • Availability: Confirm prior to ordering
  • Branding: minimum 50 pieces (add’l costs below)
  • Check Freight Rates (branded products only)

Branding Options (v), Availability & Lead Times

  • 1-Color Imprint: $2.00 ea.
  • Promo-Page Insert: $2.50 ea. (full-color printed, single-sided page)
  • Belly-Band Wrap: $2.50 ea. (full-color printed)
  • Set-Up Charge: $45 per decoration
FULL DETAILS
  • Availability: Product availability changes daily, so please confirm your quantity is available prior to placing an order.
  • Branded Products: allow 10 business days from proof approval for production. Branding options may be limited or unavailable based on product design or cover artwork.
  • Unbranded Products: allow 3-5 business days for shipping. All Unbranded items receive FREE ground shipping in the US. Inquire for international shipping.
  • RETURNS/CANCELLATIONS: All orders, branded or unbranded, are NON-CANCELLABLE and NON-RETURNABLE once a purchase order has been received.
  • Product Details

    Author:
    Ann Stanford, David Trinidad, Maxime Scattes, Maxine Scates
    Format:
    Paperback
    Pages:
    224
    Publisher:
    Copper Canyon Press (May 1, 2001)
    Language:
    English
    Audience:
    General/trade
    ISBN-13:
    9781556591587
    ISBN-10:
    1556591586
    Weight:
    9.92oz
    Dimensions:
    5.5" x 9" x 0.5"
    File:
    CONSORTIUM-Metadata_Only_Consortium_Customer_Group_Metadata_20260401130212-20260401.xml
    Folder:
    CONSORTIUM
    List Price:
    $17.00
    Case Pack:
    22
    As low as:
    $14.62
    Publisher Identifier:
    P-PER
    Discount Code:
    C
    Country of Origin:
    United States
    Imprint:
    Copper Canyon Press
    Pub Discount:
    60
  • Overview

    Within a decade of her death in 1987, each of Ann Stanford's ten books had slipped out of print and her final manuscript—completed just before she died—remained unpublished. Through the effort of two former students, this creeping silence will finally end with the publication of this major selected poems. Like her fellow Californians Robinson Jeffers and Gary Snyder, Stanford's poems are consumed by natural landscape and lost nature. Yet she is an urban poet, a poet of Los Angeles who published poetry, criticism, a translation of The Bhagavad Gita, and the first major anthology of women's poetry.

    Listening to Color

    Now that blue has had its say
    has told its winds, wall, sick
    sky even, I can listen to white

    sweet poison flowers hedge autumn
    under a sky white at the edges
    like faded paper. My message keeps

    turning to yellow where few leaves
    set up first fires over branches
    tips of flames only, nothing here finished yet.

    "All she knows, though it's awesome, doesn't clog her spontaneity or impede the freshness of her senses. The whole book is brave and good."—May Swenson

    "Crystalline would be the word for the illuminating clarity of Ann Stanford's poetry—except that hers is not an inorganic but a living crystal. Few poets today better exemplify the criteria of wholeness, harmony, and radiance that the great philosopher said all art should possess. Hers is an intimate but luminous vitality."—Kenneth Rexroth

    "She is one of our best lyricists."—James Dickey

    Ann Stanford (1916-1987) lived her whole life in Southern California. With degrees from Stanford and U.C.L.A., she taught at California State University for twenty-five years. Her books were published by Viking and the influential Swallow Press, and her poems appeared regularly in The New Yorker, Atlantic Monthly, and many other magazines.

    Holding Our Own

    A summer without passion
    our selves pulled together
    like the leaves surrounding the branches
    each branch part of the tree
    the tree round, holding its own in the air.

    The music begins
    round globes of sound
    weld it togethe