Overview

"""Some things go better / without light,"" Stephen Anderson writes in his new and selected poems, On the Third Planet from the Sun. But throughout the collection, it is the lit things in this world that Anderson seeks. Here hope and beauty survive ""despite it all,"" despite ""the racket of the world"" and its ""madding call."" Lucky for us, Anderson listens to the call and follows its echo with keen observation. In this journey, Anderson's poetic voice is self-assured, guiding us through various configurations of human nature so that we can, in the end, contend with our relationship with it. That is, if we listen to its call, for we can't ""outwit"" it, and we can't outwit the natural world, this beautiful place in Anderson's mind where we find the true metaphors for our own lives, where the past and the present converge, inevitably, in a star. Turn the light off and read these poems with intent, find out how close you can get to decoding the mystery found in even the smallest acts of courage. -Octavio Quintanilla, author of the poetry collection, The Book of Wounded Sparrows Stephen Anderson's poems are full of grace and goodness, qualities that are rare in any poetic era. While Anderson is not afraid to go deeply into the shadows, he goes deeply enough to find, in his singular voice, a triumphant affirmation. -Joseph Fasano, author of The Last Song of the World In On the Third Planet from the Sun, we journey with Stephen Anderson from his childhood home in Atlanta, Georgia, to New York, Nashville, Chicago, Milwaukee, Kharkiv, Granada, Rome, Jerusalem, London, Lisbon, Paris, Baden-Baden, across Chile where he spent time in the Peace Corps, and under many a starry sky, never as tourists but as wanderers, community members, historians, advocates for social justice and eco-justice. Anderson pays respect to his artistic lineage-Lorca, Neruda, Keats, and Hugo, Hopper, Monet, and Picasso-while also honoring a six-year-old girl flying a kite with her grandfather, the esteemed barber at Hank's Place, a fisherman who passes away on his boat, and so many of our wounded Earth's fellow beings: coyotes, crows, hummingbirds, fish, crickets, caterpillars, red-crested cardinals, hawks, and bumblebees. ""So many mysteries are spun inside a mere drop of water,"" Anderson writes, and his keen powers of observation will move you again and again, as he weaves poetry from the global ravages of wars and routine trips to the grocery store, from ""a gray-black assault rifle leaning"" against a school desk and the ""quiet hallelujahs of crocuses"" in this ""bent world we have created,"" but one this poet lovingly embraces. -Brenda Cardenas, author of Trace and Boomerang"

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