“To me, a poem begins in loneliness and ends in fellowship. It is an outstretched hand; an opportunity to connect with others through images and emotions. And if you make that connection with me, then the flame we are all a part of burns just a little brighter. That’s my goal: to share with you the burning.”
Things That Get You is a philosophical approach to the essential questions of life. It dives into ideas of life and mortality and muses on the connections between humanity and nature.
Hubbard’s poetry explores the importance of love and family in this modern world. He discusses what it means to be a father, a husband, and a man.
Hubbard’s thoughtful approach and beautifully crafted verses paints a vivid landscape of the nature of life in mid-western America. Both rhythmic and free-flowing, this collection of poetry absorbs us into his world.
Hubbard helps us to contemplate what life truly means to us.
Andrew Hubbard was born and raised in a small fishing village on the coast of Maine.
For most of his career, he worked as the Director of Training for a number of major financial institutions. He is a well-known speaker on the topic of corporate training, and has authored three books and dozens of articles on the subject.
He is a former martial artist and competitive weight-lifter, a casual student of cooking and wine, a gemologist, a collector of edged weapons, a licensed handgun instructor, and an avid outdoor photographer.
He graduated from Dartmouth College and Columbia University, receiving awards in Creative Writing and Psychology. He has multiple degrees and a Master of Fine Arts degree in Creative Writing.
He currently lives in rural Indiana with his wife, two Siberian Huskies, and a demon cat.
ISBN 9781922120809 (PB, 104 pp);
|AUD $25||USD $18||NZD $27||GBP £12||EUR €14|
|ISBN 9781922120816 (ePub)||AUD $12||USD $9||NZD $14||GBP £6||EUR €7|
Be the first to review Things That Get You - contact us at firstname.lastname@example.org
Stay tuned for more reviews
Music From Stones
If you love,
Love that emphatically was
[These: they ring a pool
These, I said,
Only saying to the little girl
Leaning from the wind
The Space Between Beats
The too-big grandfather clock
Begins to strike
A threat unspoken
How did it happen?
Maybe it was the birthday parties,
Dirty coffee cups
The first appalling gray hairs,
The faint lines
We Were Boys
Read more on Google Books