A Night without Armor: Poems
by Jewel
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One of the most respected artists in popular music today, Jewel is much more than a music industry success with her debut album selling more than 10 million copies. Before her gifted songwriting comes an even more individual art: Poetry. Now available in paperback, A Night without Armor highlights the poetry of Jewel taken from her journals which are both intimate and inspiring, to be embraced and enjoyed. Writing poems and keeping journals since childhood, Jewel has been searching for truth show more and meaning, turning to her words to record, to discover, and to reflect. In A Night Without Armor, her first collection of poetry, Jewel explores the fire of first love, the lessons of betrayal, and the healing of intimacy. She delves into matters of the home, the comfort of family, the beauty of Alaska, and the dislocation of divorce. Frank and honest, serious and suddenly playful, A Night Without Armor is a talented artist's intimate portrait of what makes us uniquely human. show lessTags
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Member Reviews
This was a blast from the past. I remember this poetry collection being HOT when I was in middle school. That being said I never got around to reading it. I enjoyed this collection, but I wasn't in awe of it. It was ok for a singular read but I didn't find myself bookmarking any pages or wanting to save this to re-read it. Again, I didn't hate it, but I didn't love it. This was good for a singular read.
Interesting little book by Jewel, yes Jewel the singer. A collection of her poems that cover anything from growing up as a little girl in Alaska to the red light district of Tai Pei. Through her poems she tells stories of growing up in Alaska. Her look for love and being in relationships but her insecurities. Another reviewer noted that some lead you to want to know more about her or that part of her life and then you jump to a completely different area or time period. But all and all a nice collection of contemporary poetry.
For some reason, I find the short, simple reads take me the longest time to actually get to. I've been sitting on this book since it was new, probably thinking at the time that I would read it slowly, over time, maybe only one or two poems a day, and then just letting it sit on a shelf gathering dust.
So, finally sat down and read it over the course of a day. Pretty standard fair for modern poetry, but there are a few gems. Jewel does her best work when she is writing about her past. The best poems in this collection, to me, were those about her youth, growing up in Alaska. Poems like "Crazy Cow" and "Grimshaw" (also my favorite of the whole bunch) give a stark view of what it was like growing up Jewel.
So, finally sat down and read it over the course of a day. Pretty standard fair for modern poetry, but there are a few gems. Jewel does her best work when she is writing about her past. The best poems in this collection, to me, were those about her youth, growing up in Alaska. Poems like "Crazy Cow" and "Grimshaw" (also my favorite of the whole bunch) give a stark view of what it was like growing up Jewel.
This is not masterful poetry, but it is honest and heartfelt, and upon cleaning off my shelves and paging through, it turned out to be exactly what I needed.
The singer/song writer Jewel makes a descent attempt in her book of poetry. Honest and to the heart her poems cover relationships, family, her life on the road and her home of Alaska. While many of these poems are short and simplistic others show deep thought and feelings of an accomplished poet.
There are some really great poems in this book. I've had it for several years, and still pick it up off the shelf.
A Night Without Armor was beautify written. Although this book was written in all poems it shared a story. The true story was like a beat
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- Canonical title
- A Night without Armor: Poems
- Original title
- A Night Without Armor
- Original publication date
- 1998
- Epigraph
- "Some people react physically to the magic of poetry, to the moments, that is, of authentic revelation, of the communication, the sharing, at its highest level...A good poem is a contribution to reality. The world is n... (show all)ever the same once a good poem has been added to it. A good poem helps to change the shape and significance of the universe, helps to extend everyone's knowledge of himself and the world around him." —Dylan Thomas (1913-1953)
- Dedication
- THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO
the One in Whom we live and move and have our being
to my parents, Nedra Carroll and Atz Kilcher
to my brothers Shane, Atz, and Nikos
and to the land which inspires my hea... (show all)rt to sing, Alaska - First words
- From an early age, my mother would gather me and my brothers after school for "workshops" in music, visual art, and writing.
- Quotations
- You Are Not
you are not
the brave soldier
Neruda's sons
Chaves' brother
you are not
the dark horse
heart filled
with all the weight
and compassion
your hardships
have won yo... (show all)u
you are not
driven by the need
to free all people
from meanness and
loveless abuse
I know you
you are asleep in your church
on Sunday afternoon
looking for god
in answers you seek
through others
instead
of being the answers
you are praying for peace
but unwilling to be it
praying for mercy
but unwilling to give it
praying for Love
but too busy
making sure you got your own:
a good job
a good girl
all the trimmings you are
entitled to
all the bells and whistles
that are meaningful
but only to those who possess
a heart most common
Road Spent
I could stand to be alone
for some time
Lose myself in white noise
slip into the blur
contemplate the color yellow
Right now
I just don't handle splashes too well
Or too m... (show all)any teeth
around me all at once
armed like guns with something to say
Urgent whispers
hoarse restraint
Quiet as paper cuts
people steal me away
cart my flesh off in tiny crimson piles
my bones have been sore
Rattling against each other
in their anemic cage
ravens circling
my heart beating
it's-time to-go it's-time to-go
someplace full of surf
full of flat blue sky
full of shuuushhh
Lemonade
Moths beat themselves
upon the screen door
of some other afternoon
A red dress burns in my mind
Outside the hound is turning
a lantern over that had
been left out in the rain... (show all)r>
I long for a hot day
when moist palms reach
for my warmth and pull
me down to some humid
and reckless depth
Night spilling over me
its velvet stain
We Talk
We talk
slowly
about nothing
about movies
we stick to
surface streets
and find no
meaning in ca... (show all)fe windows
no substance in
hotel rooms
I used to unwrap you!
tender layers unfolding
like eager gold
but now
we are cool
and recount
our daily bores
as though
the sum of our
uses
equaled
something
(more)
substantial
while softer
things shriveled
and dry roots
go unfed
strangled
by the phone line
and all
that is
not said
Sometimes
Sometimes
I feel
my heart
fall
to vague depths
between
words there
are such
spaces that
 ... (show all);I can't help
but feel
My Heart
fall
between
the pregnant pause
of all you will
not say
and all
I can
not ask
I stare at my hands
and wonder
how they got
so far away
—from Blanketed by a Citrus Smile
The Things You Fear
The things you fear
are undefeatable
not by their nature
but by your approach
The Chase
And now it begins
you will see.
Once you are gone
my game gets stronger.
In love with the pursuit
I will seduce you,
with ink,
blot out the night
and invent new stars.
I will... (show all) sew you to my side
nevermore shall you roam
without the outline of my chase
branded on your heart.
By 7 A.M. every morning
we walked ourselves out to the road
and waited for the school bus
with all the other kids.
Looking for signs
of when life might strike random again
and scatter us like seeds
on the... (show all) unknowable winds
of chance.
—from After the Divorce
driving our old tractor, Alice, my eyes would search the
horizon,
soaking in the ease
of outdoors; of summer and its particular toil.
—from May Brought Longer Days
His big hands
handled the tiny animal expertly;
the same hands I feared
now seemed more powerful
and merciful than god's.
—from Crazy Cow
And all night we dreamt
of all the impossible things
we would do when we grew up.
—from Crazy Cow - Last words
- (Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)"Beauty and intellect join forces in Pat Steir's paintings. The pictures may be read as metaphors for the imagination itself, a mercurial space of luidity and transformation."
--Ken Johnson, The New York Times
November 14, 1997
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- 1,169
- Popularity
- 21,405
- Reviews
- 20
- Rating
- (3.41)
- Languages
- English, German
- Media
- Paper, Audiobook, Ebook
- ISBNs
- 10
- UPCs
- 2
- ASINs
- 6



















































