Review: Buffy’s House of Mirrors

Buffy’s House of Mirrors by Kim Malinowski was a walk through unfamiliar territory for me. I did not watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer so I was not familiar with the character references, which I think helped me to approach these poems objectively. Malinowski imposes real-life emotion and need onto the fantasy world of demon-slaying, attaching make-believe to real-life struggle. The demons she fights are body-image, emotional pain and mental distress. She has taken a popular trope and made it into something personal and far more powerful than fantasy. I never had any interest in the television series, but I am very impressed with how Malinowski applies it to a subject that is much too hidden away and needs to be made more visible.

(ARC provided by Querencia Press)

Review: Domestic Bodies

Domestic Bodies by Jennifer Ruth Jackson. This is the poetry I want to write. Poetry that hits you in the center of your chest, the words seeping into your bloodstream and becoming part of you. Jackson’s language speaks to you as if in tongues, you read the words, hear them, feel them in your soul. In her writing Jackson allows herself to be vulnerable, allowing readers to see her fears, her hurts, and her scars. She creates images with incredible lyricism; we are taken to childhood afternoons skipping stones and lunches in Mother’s kitchen, living in the moment, unaware of anything other than the haven of home. Some of her pieces have the essence of classic faerie tales, recipes of power and ritual handed down through generations of matriarchs. She faces illness with such courage–waiting for the worst while holding on to a dream of hope.
Jennifer Ruth Jackson writes about life. She writes hope, pain, sorrow, anger, and quiet happinesses. Her words speak truths our world needs to hear. (ARC provided by Querencia Press)

Review: Survivalism for Hedonists

In Survivalism for Hedonists, Dylan McNulty-Holmes has done something brilliant (I wish I had thought to do this). They have used their own words as inspiration, pulling quotes and thoughts from notebooks written over a nine year span. They have turned their innermost thoughts into art and shared that vision with readers.
We are invited to consider their experiences, taste McNulty-Holmes’ doubt, wonder at their expression, and question our own identity. “Who are you, what is it you want,” McNulty-Holmes asks us, and wants us to answer honestly.
Dylan McNulty-Holmes has invited their readers into the Wonderland of their most private thoughts, and it is a privilege to be there.

(ARC provided by Querencia Press)

The Edge of Hope by Robin Williams

Reading The Edge of Hope by Robin Williams is like looking into a mirror. So many of their experiences parallel my own, reading their words feels like having a conversation with a kindred soul. Williams’ book addresses such topics as mental illness, sexual assault, and homophobia, so I advise readers to approach this volume with caution if these are sensitive topics for them.
Williams’ poems take aim at topics we are too often told to stay away from. They are loud, angry, sorrowful; they hurt your heart as you recognize your own heartache and anger in them. Williams tells their readers that they have the right to be angry, they have the right to feel betrayed, and they do not have to apologize for their feelings. Robin Williams refuses to hide their emotions to make others feel comfortable. This is a lesson we should take to heart. (ARC gifted by Querencia Press)

National Poetry Month!

It’s that glorious time of year again, a whole month dedicated to celebrating the art of poetry! April might possibly be my favorite month because of this. (It’s also my birthday month, so I might be a bit biased.) But poetry! The words, the rhythms, the forms and fragments, the soul-searing, joyful expressions of people’s dreams and memories. Let us celebrate!

To Daffodils

BY ROBERT HERRICK

Fair Daffodils, we weep to see

You haste away so soon;

As yet the early-rising sun

Has not attain’d his noon.

Stay, stay,

Until the hasting day

Has run

But to the even-song;

And, having pray’d together, we

Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you,

We have as short a spring;

As quick a growth to meet decay,

As you, or anything.

We die

As your hours do, and dry

Away,

Like to the summer’s rain;

Or as the pearls of morning’s dew,

Ne’er to be found again.

Daisy Time

BY MARJORIE PICKTHALL

See, the grass is full of stars,

Fallen in their brightness;

Hearts they have of shining gold,

Rays of shining whiteness.

Buttercups have honeyed hearts,

Bees they love the clover,

But I love the daisies’ dance

All the meadow over.

Blow, O blow, you happy winds,

Singing summer’s praises,

Up the field and down the field

A-dancing with the daisies.

[in Just-]

BY E. E. CUMMINGS

in Just-

spring          when the world is mud-

luscious the little

lame balloonman

whistles          far          and wee

and eddieandbill come

running from marbles and

piracies and it’s

spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer

old balloonman whistles

far          and             wee

and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it’s

spring

and

         the

                  goat-footed

balloonMan          whistles

far

and

wee

Spring

BY GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS

Nothing is so beautiful as Spring –         

   When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;         

   Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush         

Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring         

The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;

   The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush         

   The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush         

With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.         

What is all this juice and all this joy?         

   A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning

In Eden garden. – Have, get, before it cloy,         

   Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,         

Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,         

   Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.