Description
In the poetry of Celestine Frost, the I is not confessional, rarely even personal, but, like he or she, a voice, subliminal and quirky. In this, her fourth collection, the liquid, unamalgamated thought of the subconscious seeps into the conscious mind as ore into stone. The resulting idiom is the real subject of her work.
Celestine Frost is an accomplished poet with many publications.
Reviews
"This is feisty, apt writing with an appetite one very much respects. No world is ever there unless it's come into. Here's a way in!" — Robert Creeley
"Celestine Frost's poems have the delicate touch that the surest poets command. Here is music that can devise with fire and grace. " — Ed Foster, editor, Talisman
"I hear Marianne Moore and Emily Dickinson in the music of this poet. All nature is the school that she goes fishing in, asserting: 'It behooves us all to love all kinds of matter. ' These powerful, sharply drawn poems ought to appeal to all adventurous souls. " — Bill Zavatsky
"A Yelp in the Ideal's central intellect—intellectual sensuality—interweaves beautifully with the best lyrics in that ultimate bedside book the Greek Anthology. Somehow it all comes through in a twangy American idiom. " — W. B. Keckler, winner National Poetry Series, 2002
"A brilliant song, a celebration of life connecting us to the universe. Frost experiments with language and form, creating a unique rhythm and vision—playful, profound. " — Marcia Arrieta, editor, Indefinite Space