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Door to a Noisy Room Paperback – January 1, 2008
From Publishers Weekly
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
"Waldor’s spare ironysometimes tender, sometimes bawdydeals in dichotomies: love and hate, frailty and strength, fear and faith. These elliptical and colloquial lyrics draw equally from parable, prayer, and elegy. Hesitating on the threshold between isolation and community, the poet focuses a distortingly accurate microscope on what matters in our lives. "...familial, humane, and loyal to the good people and the simple delights of this world."Publishers Weekly
It’s such a delight when something catches you by surprise and makes you read onand on. So it is with Waldor, a superb lyric, gnomic and Gnostic poet.”Gerald Stern
"The reader must learn to forfeit expectation and simply tune in, like listening to a koan...these poems generously reward the concentration their language demands. Waldor asks us to listen to the noisy world as he hears it, and he opens our ears."Boston Review
"What strange rooms and quirky music Waldor's poems open onto. His vision proves to us that the imaginal and the rational share equal claims on perception. The heart/mind of this work spiritualizes the material and materializes the soul."Li-Young Lee
"Door to a Noisy Room has the darkness, glitter, and hardness of obsidian. In this work, the heat of the passions has cooled to an elemental simplicity. Like obsidian the poems have been polished into jewels or napped to the keenest blade. They are beautiful and they are sharp."Lynn Emanuel
Top Customer Reviews
Here on the marsh behind my house in Maine, I hide in the tree line just at dawn with my retriever, and my shotgun, and the poet's poems, waiting for ducks and geese to appear in the empty sky above my head. I read the words just above a whisper as the gold light of a new morning sifts through the honey colored dune grass and a soft breeze rises from the cove. Every now and then the dog turns his head and looks at me as if he has suddenly understood what the poet has written.
Don J. Snyder