So one of the best poetry collections ever is Franz Wright's Walking in Martha's Vineyard (in my opinion second only to Siken's Crush and Hirshfield's Given Sugar, Given Salt). Franz Wright is another one of those poets with the world's most difficult life story. I love this collection, funny enough, because most of it is very much about God, and speaking to God but in this beautiful way that I haven't seen before. It seems like his personal God, who he writes about not to glorify God or for others to believe in his God, but because his belief in God is what brings him hope and security: is what keeps him moving forward, toward something.
[As a sidenote, I've recently realized that Knopf publishes everything that is anything.]
So here's a poem to make you cry:
Death, heaven, bread, breath and the sea
to scare me
But I too will be fed by
the other food
that I know nothing
of, the breath
the sea of
when the almond does not
blossom and the grasshopper drags itself along
But if You can make a star from nothing You can raise me up.