Darkness and Silence by Tim BowlingDarkness and Silence by Tim Bowling

Darkness and Silence

byTim Bowling

Paperback | January 1, 2001

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In his fourth collection of poetry, Tim Bowling continues his exploration of loss, heartache, joy and wonder. Employing a supple lyricism that is at turns tender and fierce, he draws on his experiences as a father and son, on his memories of childhood, and on his journeys into landscape as ways to explore the deep mysteries at the heart of consciousness.

Darkness and Silence moves from the lush riverscape of BC's south coast to the eerie moonscape of the Alberta badlands, from elegiac considerations of the lives of other writers (such as Al Purdy in "Elegy for an Elegist" and Willa Cather in "I Went into the Gardens of the Empress Hotel"), to the imagistic meditations on the simple acts of washing dishes, going for a walk, or returning home after a day's work.

These highly crafted poems, rich with startling metaphors and vivid images, underline Robert Frost's idea that poetry is, above all else, a performance. Bowling believes wholeheartedly in emotion and drama, and he puts his deep love and respect for the sounds and rhythms of English into every line he writes.

Intellectual without being academic, and philosophical without being abstract, he is a poet fully engaged with the challenges, beauties and hard truths of day-to-day living.
Tim Bowling has published numerous poetry collections, including Low Water Slack; Dying Scarlet (winner of the Stephan G. Stephansson Award for Poetry); Darkness and Silence (winner of the Canadian Authors Association Award for Poetry); The Witness Ghost and The Memory Orchard (both nominated for the Governor General's Literary Award);...
Title:Darkness and SilenceFormat:PaperbackDimensions:80 pages, 8.5 × 5.75 × 0.28 inPublished:January 1, 2001Publisher:Nightwood EditionsLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:0889711755

ISBN - 13:9780889711754

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Read from the Book

Three Jack SpringThree jack springbriefly laidon the wet grassand forminga loose silver triangleAnd waspsslow circlingas the careful diallingof a rotary phonetheir buzz the soundof the numbers passingAnd apple blossomsfrom an overhanging bougha few settling on the scalesas if to ice the fishthe others settlingon the cool patch of grassUnseen is the heapof the fisherman's sonall the fingers slickwith blood and slimeand curled into themselvesto make a tiny moonUnseen is the heapof cedar sawdustred as the salmon fleshrich too with the muskof the life that's seepinginto the groundGone now are the fishthe patch of grass, the dust,the blossoms and wasps.But that hand is this handpoised to pick upon the first ringof that callwhich never comesexcept as the windin the silver trianglethen static, than darkness,then nothing at all.Reading My Son to SleepLast night, for the first time, I went down the wellmy father went with me.It plunged deeper than the back of the little skullwhose edge lay page-thin on the white pillowand darker than the earth's dusk seeping into blot the secret passwords that I spoke."Hello," I tested with each downladdering breath,the letters pattering like rain in the murkand echoing off the cavernous stone. A blink,a butterfly's tentative settle, and the slightway back had briefly closed.Another blink, and I was leftwith the aftersound of uttered entrance,my eyes guttering, arms loose as rope.With an inward cry I could not helpI watched darkness flood the praying-book. SolitudeA house under stars, still yet poisedas the white-tailed doe who stands,head lifted, sniffing, a foot beyondthe supple chamois stretch of lightextending from a reading lamp.Many-windowed, a house on a slopethrough which the eyes of the wild peerat a height equal to the stars, throughwhich the measured breath of beingpins the pages on a desk.Earth-bound, a house of old woodagainst which the hides of passing herdsstill brush, and for whichthe paper of an open, unread bookstill longs.A man under stars, hunched,earth-bound, opaque of spirit,what else shall he long forto merit the doe's tentative addressand the stars' constancythan the flesh that shelters himand a small gap in the absenceof his wilderness?

Table of Contents

To and Fro in the Earth
The Past
History and Eternity
Laundry Day in a Fishing Town
The Game
First Job
Three Jack Spring
The Return
Day's End
Long Walks: A Poetics

Five Elegies
After Reading an Anthology of Twentieth-Century Jewish Poetry
Elegy for an Elegist
Golden Gloves
I Went into the Gardens of the Empress Hotel

The God of Animal Patience
Two Dogs
Behind Glass at Midnight
A Cup of Coffee in Solitude
Alleys in Winter
Reading My Son to Sleep
Washing the Dishes
Emptying the Mousetrap, 10 pm
Strange Encounter

Darkness and Silence
Where You Can Find Us, Spring Coming On
Watching a Lone Rider Cross the Hills of the Red Deer River Valley
Midday, Midsummer
A Rare Rain
The Ring-Necked Pheasant
Badlands Sunset
At Sunset, the Female Ring-Necked Pheasant
The Feather of a Hawk
Nine Doe
Gathering Eggs After Dark
Power Outage
The Sign on the Last Bed and Breakfast
Before Entering the Badlands