1. John Ashbery Selects Chris Hosea as 2013 Walt Whitman Award Recipient

    The Academy of American Poets is pleased to announce that Pulitzer Prize-winning poet John Ashbery has selected Chris Hosea as the recipient of the 2013 Walt Whitman Award, the Academy’s prestigious first book prize. 

    As the winner of the Whitman Award, Hosea’s manuscript, Put Your Hands In, will be published by Louisiana State University Press in 2014 and the Academy of American Poets will purchase and distribute thousands of copies of the book to its members. Hosea will also receive $5,000 and a one-month residency at the Vermont Studio Center.

  2. 
Today, on the 50th anniversary of Sylvia Plath’s death, the Academy of American Poets is honoring the poet’s life and work with her letters, journals, and poems. Discover 10 things that Sylvia Plath loved, including sun bathing, Marilyn Monroe, and The Joy of Cooking at poets.org. 
Also, to mark the occasion, we have digitized archival letters from Sylvia that are a part of her years-long correspondence with the Academy of American Poets, where they are now available to the public for the first time.

From the Academy Archives: Letters from Sylvia

    Today, on the 50th anniversary of Sylvia Plath’s death, the Academy of American Poets is honoring the poet’s life and work with her letters, journals, and poems. Discover 10 things that Sylvia Plath loved, including sun bathing, Marilyn Monroe, and The Joy of Cooking at poets.org.

    Also, to mark the occasion, we have digitized archival letters from Sylvia that are a part of her years-long correspondence with the Academy of American Poets, where they are now available to the public for the first time.

    From the Academy Archives: Letters from Sylvia

    (Source: Flickr / faberandfaber)

  3. Mannahatta

    Walt Whitman 

    I was asking for something specific and perfect for my city, 
    Whereupon lo! upsprang the aboriginal name.

    Now I see what there is in a name, a word, liquid, sane, 
       unruly, musical, self-sufficient,
    I see that the word of my city is that word from of old, 
    Because I see that word nested in nests of water-bays,
       superb,
    Rich, hemm’d thick all around with sailships and 
       steamships, an island sixteen miles long, solid-founded,
    Numberless crowded streets, high growths of iron, slender, 
       strong, light, splendidly uprising toward clear skies,
    Tides swift and ample, well-loved by me, toward sundown, 
    The flowing sea-currents, the little islands, larger adjoining
       islands, the heights, the villas,
    The countless masts, the white shore-steamers, the lighters, 
       the ferry-boats, the black sea-steamers well-model’d,
    The down-town streets, the jobbers’ houses of business, the 
       houses of business of the ship-merchants and money-
       brokers, the river-streets,
    Immigrants arriving, fifteen or twenty thousand in a week, 
    The carts hauling goods, the manly race of drivers of horses,
       the brown-faced sailors,
    The summer air, the bright sun shining, and the sailing 
       clouds aloft,
    The winter snows, the sleigh-bells, the broken ice in the 
       river, passing along up or down with the flood-tide or 
       ebb-tide,
    The mechanics of the city, the masters, well-form’d, 
       beautiful-faced, looking you straight in the eyes,
    Trottoirs throng’d, vehicles, Broadway, the women, the 
       shops and shows,
    A million people—manners free and superb—open voices—
       hospitality—the most courageous and friendly young 
       men,
    City of hurried and sparkling waters! city of spires and masts! 
    City nested in bays! my city!

    (Source: poets.org)