Who is Joyce Sutphen

Sutphen speaking after Governor Dayton, at right, announced her appointment as the Poet Laureate of Minnesota Joyce Sutphen (born August 10, 1949) is an American poet, currently serving as Minnesota's Poet Laureate. She is the state's second laureate, appointed by Governor Mark Dayton in August, 2011. Sutphen also serves as a professor of English at Gustavus Adolphus College in St. Peter, Min...
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Joyce Sutphen Poems

  • Crossroads
    The second half of my life will be black
    to the white rind of the old and fading moon.
    The second half of my life will be water
    over the cracked floor of these desert years. ...
  • The Farm
    My father's farm is an apple blossomer.
    He keeps his hills in dandelion carpet
    and weaves a lane of lilacs between the rose
    and the jack-in-the-pulpits. ...
  • Evening Angelus
    I have forgotten the words,
    and therefore I shall not conceive
    of a mysterious salvation, I shall
    not become a tall lily and bloom ...
  • Just For The Record
    It wasn't like that. Don't imagine
    my father in a feed cap, chewing
    a stem of alfalfa, spitting occasionally.
  • The Aunts
    I like it when they get together
    and talk in voices that sound
    like apple trees and grape vines,
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Top 10 most used topics by Joyce Sutphen

Together 7 Time 6 Away 6 White 5 Place 4 Never 4 Beneath 3 Thought 3 Door 3 Heart 3

Joyce Sutphen Quotes

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Comments about Joyce Sutphen

  • O_franco_aleman: joyce sutphen
  • Zaharaesque: "crossroads" | joyce sutphen
  • Tracies89160163: joyce sutphen, “living in the body” from straight out of view (boston: beacon press, 1995). copyright © 1995 by joyce sutphen.
  • Martinamcgowan: the farm by joyce sutphen
  • Smallfarmdairy: poem by joyce sutphen. 14 years ago, this failure of our society and infrastructure had a deadly toll.
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Poem of the day

Charles Baudelaire Poem
Le Poison (The Poison)
 by Charles Baudelaire

Le vin sait revêtir le plus sordide bouge
D'un luxe miraculeux,
Et fait surgir plus d'un portique fabuleux
Dans l'or de sa vapeur rouge,
Comme un soleil couchant dans un ciel nébuleux.

L'opium agrandit ce qui n'a pas de bornes,
Allonge l'illimité,

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