Russell Thornton is a North Vancouver poet. He is the author of ten collections, including Two Songs: Selected Poems 2000-2025 (Harbour Publishing, 2026).

Thornton’s collections House Built of Rain (Harbour, 2003) and Birds, Metals, Stones & Rain (Harbour, 2013) were finalists for the Dorothy Livesay Poetry Prize. Birds, Metals, Stones & Rain was also a finalist for the Governor General's Award for Poetry and the Raymond Souster Award. His collection The Hundred Lives (Quattro, 2014) was a finalist for the Griffin Poetry Prize.

Thornton won first prize in the League of Canadian Poets National Contest in 2000 and The Fiddlehead magazine's Ralph Gustafson Prize in 2009.
Thornton's poems have appeared widely in Canadian literary magazines, and in a number anthologies including In Fine Form: The Anthology of Canadian Form Poetry (Polestar, 2005 and Caitlin, 2016), Rocksalt: An Anthology of Contemporary BC Poetry (Mother Tongue, 2008), Open Wide A Wilderness: Canadian Nature Poems (Wilfred Laurier University, 2009), The Montreal International Poetry Prize 2011 Global Anthology (Signal, 2012), Best Canadian Poetry in English (Tightrope, 2012 and Biblioasis, 2019), Refugium (Caitlin, 2017) Sweet Water (Caitlin, 2020), and Worth More Standing (Caitlin, 2022). He is one of the poets whose conversation and poems are included in What the Poets are Doing (Nightwood, 2018). His poetry has been featured several times on Vancouver buses and bus shelters as part of B.C.'s Poetry in Transit; it has also appeared in translation in anthologies and literary journals in Greece, Romania, Israel, and Ukraine.

Awards:
First Prize, League of Canadian Poets National Contest, 2000 ("The Beginnings of Stars")
Shortlisted, Dorothy Livesay Poetry Prize, BC Book Prizes, 2004 (House Built of Rain)
Shortlisted, ReLit Poetry Award, 2004 (House Built of Rain)
Ralph Gustafson Prize, 2009 ("The Rain Bush")
Shortlisted, Governor General’s Award for Poetry, 2013 (Birds, Metals, Stones & Rain)
Shortlisted, Dorothy Livesay Poetry Prize, BC Book Prizes, 2014 (Birds, Metals, Stones & Rain)
Shortlisted, Raymond Souster Award, 2014(Birds, Metals, Stones & Rain)
Shortlisted, Griffin Poetry Prize, 2015 (The Hundred Lives)

BOOKS:

The Fifth Window (Thistledown Press, 2000)
A Tunisian Notebook (Seraphim Editions, 2002)
House Built of Rain (Harbour Publishing, 2003)
The Human Shore (Harbour Publishing, 2006)
Birds, Metals, Stones & Rain (Harbour Publishing, 2013)
The Hundred Lives (Quattro Books, 2014)
The Broken Face (Harbour Publishing, 2018) $18.95 978-1-55017-844-9
Answer to Blue (Harbour Publishing, 2021) $18.95 9781550179675
The White Light of Tomorrow (Harbour Publishing, 2023) $22.95 9781990776533
Two Songs: Selected Poems 2000-2025 (Harbour Publishing, 2026) $26.95 9781998526574

[BCBW 2025]

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INTERVIEW:


Two Songs by Russell Thornton

(Harbour $26.95)


Based in North Vancouver, Russell Thornton is known for poetry that reflects on life, death and transformation. The author of nine previous poetry collections, Thornton has twice been shortlisted for major awards, including the Governor General’s Award and the Griffin Poetry Prize, and his poems have appeared widely in anthologies and international translation. His new collection gathers poems written between 2000 and 2025.


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How would you describe the basis of your poetry?


I reach for lyrical intensity, though the details arise always from my own lived experience. I write about many things—my relations with others, the places I’ve lived in and visited—but it may be the landscape of North Vancouver and the surrounding area that most powerfully shapes my imagination. The mountain, forest, mist, cloud, creek, river, inlet and rain energies of my locale work their way persistently into my poems.


Your work is described as having “scenes ranging from the Greek sun of the Peloponnese to the firs on Vancouver’s North Shore.” How does travel inform your poetry?


There’s a saying: “Travels are the soul of the world.” I think in travelling you sometimes enter a state of timelessness—pure process, pure potential, pure relationship with whatever is before you. You move toward a promised land that seems to create itself moment by moment in the imagination.


When I was a teenager, I was desperate, as many teenagers are, to leave my familiar surroundings; I ended up going away for decades, returning for brief periods to drive a taxi. Of course, what I was really desperate for was access to parts of myself that eluded me but felt necessary for my psychological survival. And at a certain point, travelling leads beyond the personal into the deeper, shared regions of the psyche—those ancient energies common to all human beings.


In Greece I felt this repeatedly. I was struck by the power of the place—the hypnotic white light, the eerie omnipresent rock, the sea. And the people: their wild music, their gestures carrying excitation and vastness. I lived in Larissa and then Thessaloniki for three, four years and have returned several times, and feel a piercing nostalgia for these places. Greece tests a person; the culture insists that you reveal exactly who you are. You have no choice, just as the characters in ancient Greek drama have no choice in their defining moments. And yet, for all Greece and other distant places have given me, I am finally nothing if not a North Vancouver poet. Leaving my home and returning to it has given me a renewed sense of the mystery of my origins. One image is permanent in me and encapsulates this: looking west past the Lions Gate Bridge toward the Salish Sea, where the sun blazes over open water while rain falls softly on North Vancouver. The light pours through the rain in delicate, trembling rays. That moment contains the essence of travel: the desire for transformation, the dream of creativity. That interchange of sunlight and rain is a sudden conjuration: an elemental summons of attention. So, ironically, here, more than anywhere else, I have a chance to undergo and enact the transformation that once seemed possible only in faraway settings.


You use a Nikos Kazantzakis epigraph for this collection: “Life and Death were songs…” How does this concept of “life-death songs” serve as the central theme for this collection gathered over 25 years?


When I began to write seriously, a well-known older Canadian poet said to me, “There are only two subjects worth writing about, sex and death. Even when you think you’re writing about other things, at your best, that’s what you’re writing about.” At the time, I wondered if he was simply being provocative, but I’ve since recognized the truth of his words. Love, eros—the life force—and its counterpart, death, are the poles across which the tightrope of our lives is strung. As Nikos Kazantzakis declares in his monumental poetic sequel to Homer’s Odyssey, life and death are songs. The poems in my collection record my attempts to sing my own versions of those songs. Gathered over two and a half decades, these poems trace the ways I have tried to walk that tightrope—striving to utter both desire and loss, presence and absence, and to negotiate the tension between life and death that defines what it means to be human.


Critics have praised your “masterful lyrics” and impeccable craft that balances “living with one’s gaze on mortality and suffering” with “healing and regeneration.” How do you maintain this balance in your poems?


The “best words in the best order,” as Coleridge said; a “dream dreamed in the presence of reason,” in Tomasso Ceva’s phrase; “a room of marvels,” as Andre Breton called it—these and many other characterizations of poetry, offered by master poets both in their sayings and lyric examples, guide me in my own attempts. It seems inevitable to me that the highest levels of poetic craft enact a vision in which paradox opens its door to transcendence—where suffering and joy, hurt and healing, the material and the spiritual, mortality and the eternal move toward union and become one. 9781998526574