Who is Denise LevertovPriscilla Denise Levertov (24 October 1923 – 20 December 1997) was an American poet. She was a recipient of the Lannan Literary Award for Poetry. Levertov's 'What Were They Like?' is currently included in the Pearson Edexcel GCSE (9–1) English Literature Poetry Anthology.
Contents Early life and influences Levertov was born and grew up in Ilford, Essex. Her mother, Beatrice Adelaide (née Spooner-Jones) Levertoff, came from a small mining village in North Wales. Her father, Paul Levertoff, had been a teacher at Leipzig University and as a Russian Hasidic Jew was held under house arrest during the First ...
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Denise Levertov Poems
- People At Night
A night that cuts between you and you
and you and you and you
and me : jostles us apart, a man elbowing
through a crowd. We won't ...
When I found the door
I found the vine leaves
speaking among themselves in abundant
The authentic! Shadows of it ...
- Ikon: The Harrowing Of Hell
Down through the tomb's inward arch
He has shouldered out into Limbo
to gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber:
the merciful dead, the prophets, ...
The tree of knowledge was the tree of reason.
That's why the taste of it
drove us from Eden. That fruit
was meant to be dried and milled to a fine powder ...
Top 10 most used topics by Denise LevertovLight 22 Green 16 Dark 15 Time 15 Joy 14 White 13 Moon 12 Shadow 11 Deep 10 Life 10
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Comments about Denise Levertov
- Felwaalhudaithy: “a dream ago, perhaps.” denise levertov, from to stay alive; 'what were they like?'
- Thndrstd: 4 of 5 stars to poems, 1960-1967 by denise levertov
- Thedailysublime: i love today's gospel. and if i'm looking for glimpses of god, heaven opened and the angels of god ascending and descending should keep me going for a fair while. here's my favourite response to it - denise levertov's the jacob's ladder.
- Felwaalhudaithy: “perhaps i should not have learned to adore pleasures that could not last?” denise levertov, from candles in babylon: poems; 'her lament'
- Jprapke: pleasures by denise levertov i like to find what's not found at once, but lies within something of another nature, in repose, distinct. gull feathers of glass, hidden in white pulp: the bones of squid which i pull out and l…