Today's book of poetry: Afloat. John Reibetanz. Brick Books. London. 2013.
The first thing I have learned from blogging about poetry is how little I know. I have been operating under the illusion that I was well versed in contemporary Canadian poetry. How could I not be? I read it constantly, have been collecting Canadian poetry passionately for forty years. Yet in the last couple of weeks it has been made crystal clear to me that there are scores of well published poets in Canada that I am unfamiliar with.
One such poet was John Reibetanz. Afloat is his eighth book of poetry, he has been short-listed for the national ReLit Award for poetry and has won the international Petra Kenney Poetry Competition.
Afloat is a multi-tiered investigation of water, a meditation that ranges from the harsh beauty of the photography of Edward Burtynsky and his represented rivers of sorrow -- to the Three Gorges Dam and discussions of how society and culture are shaped by water.
These poems bristle, they are taut.
This is a short excerpt from the opening poem:
The Love of Water
All nature, from the crag windbreakered in granite
that melts into the nuzzling of the clouds' wet snouts.
to the motes of grit that rise up every morning
and dance in a fountain over the windowsill,
all nature wants to be water. Curled tongues of fire
and sharp tongues of wind stutter and lisp through forests,
longing for the fluency of streams.
...
Curious George, Nazi tanks, Monarch butterflies, they are all found floating in the ocean of Reibetanz's poems. Afloat is a book bursting with ideas and imagination, those are always a pleasure.
http://www.brickbooks.ca
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Monday, April 8, 2013
Steve Kulash & other autopsies - Catherine Owen
Today's chapbook of poetry: Steve Kulash & other autopsies. Catherine Owen. AngelHousePress. Ottawa. 2012 (Edition of 50)
The poems in this volume come from two Owen manuscripts, Madame Twisto's Beautiful Limbs and Cineris.
"Nostalgia is unethical" says Catherine Owen with her opening salvo in the poem Steve Kulash & other autopsies. This is Owen's tenth publication and her experience shows. These are fully formed poems of experience.
"And so they came a-courting in the Greyhound depot,
those torn bits of boys." -from Decoupage
Owen's poems are peopled by geeks and freaks and whack-a-mole beating children in Vegas. Barbie and Ken play cannibal games and John Berryman dirges himself past the death of Dylan Thomas. There is an awful lot happening in these all too brief twenty pages.
"the shushing of the saltless ocean beyond
the ghost of Madame Twisto--
her beautiful, convoluting limbs"
Owen really does have a lock on the crisp turn of phrase that catches in your mind's eye. Almost all of these poems contain moments within them that are bigger, bolder and braver than your run of the mill poet. Ottawa poet and publisher Amanda Earl has created AngelHousePress to promote voices like Catherine Owen's and that is a good thing.
Earl's AngelHousePress are producing attractive chapbooks, Catherine Owen is producing attractive poetry. This tasty book is just that, a taste of Catherine Owen. An appetizer.
www.angelhousepress.com
The poems in this volume come from two Owen manuscripts, Madame Twisto's Beautiful Limbs and Cineris.
"Nostalgia is unethical" says Catherine Owen with her opening salvo in the poem Steve Kulash & other autopsies. This is Owen's tenth publication and her experience shows. These are fully formed poems of experience.
"And so they came a-courting in the Greyhound depot,
those torn bits of boys." -from Decoupage
Owen's poems are peopled by geeks and freaks and whack-a-mole beating children in Vegas. Barbie and Ken play cannibal games and John Berryman dirges himself past the death of Dylan Thomas. There is an awful lot happening in these all too brief twenty pages.
"the shushing of the saltless ocean beyond
the ghost of Madame Twisto--
her beautiful, convoluting limbs"
Owen really does have a lock on the crisp turn of phrase that catches in your mind's eye. Almost all of these poems contain moments within them that are bigger, bolder and braver than your run of the mill poet. Ottawa poet and publisher Amanda Earl has created AngelHousePress to promote voices like Catherine Owen's and that is a good thing.
Earl's AngelHousePress are producing attractive chapbooks, Catherine Owen is producing attractive poetry. This tasty book is just that, a taste of Catherine Owen. An appetizer.
www.angelhousepress.com
Saturday, April 6, 2013
when this world comes to an end - Kate Cayley
Today's book of poems: when this world comes to an end. Kate Cayley. Brick Books. London. 2013.
"Oh there'll be signs and wonders" - folk song Appalachian Mountains
This line appears in a verse of song on the first page of Cayley's first book of poems. Clearly Kate Cayley is not at all shy about announcing her intentions of what is to follow.
when this world comes to an end is Toronto writer Kate Cayley's first book of poems. Cayley is a successful playwright and it shows. Some of these poems and prose poems sound like theatrical monologues. Not theatrical as in over-emotive and and over-acted, but that lovely place where you suspend your disbelief and are taken willingly into the speaker's world.
A beautiful looking book, designed by Cheryl Dipede. I believe design matters and this cover is splendid. So are the contents.
Kate Cayley knows her stuff and is a consummate story teller. These poems are riddled with fine moments, incredible juxtapositions and an invitation into a world where intelligent play persists.
Silver Cross Mother, 1919
She rides a cart,
medal on brown coat, small hat on head;
she mocks the crowd, waving.
Memory. Loss. She is both, she will
harbour both under her ribs, excavate
whatever else was there. A tight hermetic grief
too close for sunlight to slide through, too spare
for narrative cleverness, a quiet seepage,
as if under her dress
her breasts leaked blood.
Beside her,
waving flags,
some small serious children
who are not hers.
...
This poem is from the middle section of Cayley's book titled Curio: Twelve Photographs, where Cayley has used a number of photos from the William James Collection of the City of Toronto Archives as a launching point for her fertile imagination. Cayley riffing is a bit like Pavel Datsyuk with a puck. Pure spontaneous glee for the observer (as a result of much unseen hard work and practice behind the scenes).
This book is full of the promised "signs and wonders", Just like the photo on the cover where there is a white horse diving from a tower into the water, the reader gets totally submerged into a new world of Cayley's making, one where Judas survives to a life of quiet contemplation and T.E. Lawrence is forever driving an old Brough Superior through Gwendolyn MacEwen's mind.
Kate Cayley's most excellent debut is a complete pleasure to the senses.
http://www.brickbooks.ca
"Oh there'll be signs and wonders" - folk song Appalachian Mountains
This line appears in a verse of song on the first page of Cayley's first book of poems. Clearly Kate Cayley is not at all shy about announcing her intentions of what is to follow.
when this world comes to an end is Toronto writer Kate Cayley's first book of poems. Cayley is a successful playwright and it shows. Some of these poems and prose poems sound like theatrical monologues. Not theatrical as in over-emotive and and over-acted, but that lovely place where you suspend your disbelief and are taken willingly into the speaker's world.
A beautiful looking book, designed by Cheryl Dipede. I believe design matters and this cover is splendid. So are the contents.
Kate Cayley knows her stuff and is a consummate story teller. These poems are riddled with fine moments, incredible juxtapositions and an invitation into a world where intelligent play persists.
Silver Cross Mother, 1919
She rides a cart,
medal on brown coat, small hat on head;
she mocks the crowd, waving.
Memory. Loss. She is both, she will
harbour both under her ribs, excavate
whatever else was there. A tight hermetic grief
too close for sunlight to slide through, too spare
for narrative cleverness, a quiet seepage,
as if under her dress
her breasts leaked blood.
Beside her,
waving flags,
some small serious children
who are not hers.
...
This poem is from the middle section of Cayley's book titled Curio: Twelve Photographs, where Cayley has used a number of photos from the William James Collection of the City of Toronto Archives as a launching point for her fertile imagination. Cayley riffing is a bit like Pavel Datsyuk with a puck. Pure spontaneous glee for the observer (as a result of much unseen hard work and practice behind the scenes).
This book is full of the promised "signs and wonders", Just like the photo on the cover where there is a white horse diving from a tower into the water, the reader gets totally submerged into a new world of Cayley's making, one where Judas survives to a life of quiet contemplation and T.E. Lawrence is forever driving an old Brough Superior through Gwendolyn MacEwen's mind.
Kate Cayley's most excellent debut is a complete pleasure to the senses.
http://www.brickbooks.ca
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Ghost Music - Mark D. Dunn, Fancy Clapping - Mark D. Dunn
Today's books of poetry are: Ghost Music. Mark D. Dunn. Buschek Books. Ottawa. 2010. and Fancy Clapping. Mark D. Dunn. Scriverner Press. Sudbury. 2012.
Ghost Music, Mark D. Dunn's first book is a wonderful discovery. Anyone who dedicates a poem to Gil Scott Heron is already stepping in the right direction for me, but if you can throw John Coltrane, Wendell Clarke and William Blake into the mix then I am yours.
Dunn delights the reader with poem after poem full of insight and humour. There may be traces of a dark undertow but Dunn is deft and daring so these poems are more of a celebration than a dirge.
Inflatable Jesus
The cross went up a century ago.
Dear old ladies and gents took coins
from children to make the cross
gaze neon, godly, from the clay hills over Bawating.
Now they pass the plate again
to build a rubber Jesus for that cross.
Put him up there, head lolling in the breeze.
On Ascension Day, they let him fly
two-stepping across rooftops
on his way to an American discovery.
A Michigan hunter bored with ducks
takes his shot just as the crown crests a pine ridge.
The hunter misses, and inflatable Jesus,
borne up by wind, moves
to Chicago through Midwest corn and wheat,
east to New York for Macy's parade.
...
It is easy enough to see that Dunn is well read and very funny, what sticks as an impression with these poems is Dunn's playful nature while being serious, his dead seriousness with humour. These are strong, strong poems.
In Fancy Clapping, Dunn's second book, things go from very good to better. Gary Barwin's excellent illustration on the cover has exactly the right mixture of humour and gravitas, play and prayer, that Dunn brings to his poetry.
This second volume is full of poems like Let Us Now Invent The Past. This poem is a pistol, all gentle build up and then the hammer at the end. And Resurrection By Garden Trowel, which is hilarious, timely and a small declaration of sorts. What is clear is that Dunn is playful but he isn't playing around. These are serious poems full of punch. Al Purdy would recognize the self taught voice in these poems and approve.
There are a couple of long poems in this collection that could be shorter but that is small complaint next to the glee of the plus column. If his first two books are this good, and they are, number three will be something to see. Mark D. Dunn has announced his presence on the Canadian Literary scene with authority.
(to see more about Fancy Clapping http://www.lpg.ca/CoCoPoPro/
http://www.buschekbooks.com/
http://www.scrivenerpress.com/
Ghost Music, Mark D. Dunn's first book is a wonderful discovery. Anyone who dedicates a poem to Gil Scott Heron is already stepping in the right direction for me, but if you can throw John Coltrane, Wendell Clarke and William Blake into the mix then I am yours.
Dunn delights the reader with poem after poem full of insight and humour. There may be traces of a dark undertow but Dunn is deft and daring so these poems are more of a celebration than a dirge.
Inflatable Jesus
The cross went up a century ago.
Dear old ladies and gents took coins
from children to make the cross
gaze neon, godly, from the clay hills over Bawating.
Now they pass the plate again
to build a rubber Jesus for that cross.
Put him up there, head lolling in the breeze.
On Ascension Day, they let him fly
two-stepping across rooftops
on his way to an American discovery.
A Michigan hunter bored with ducks
takes his shot just as the crown crests a pine ridge.
The hunter misses, and inflatable Jesus,
borne up by wind, moves
to Chicago through Midwest corn and wheat,
east to New York for Macy's parade.
...
It is easy enough to see that Dunn is well read and very funny, what sticks as an impression with these poems is Dunn's playful nature while being serious, his dead seriousness with humour. These are strong, strong poems.
In Fancy Clapping, Dunn's second book, things go from very good to better. Gary Barwin's excellent illustration on the cover has exactly the right mixture of humour and gravitas, play and prayer, that Dunn brings to his poetry.
This second volume is full of poems like Let Us Now Invent The Past. This poem is a pistol, all gentle build up and then the hammer at the end. And Resurrection By Garden Trowel, which is hilarious, timely and a small declaration of sorts. What is clear is that Dunn is playful but he isn't playing around. These are serious poems full of punch. Al Purdy would recognize the self taught voice in these poems and approve.
There are a couple of long poems in this collection that could be shorter but that is small complaint next to the glee of the plus column. If his first two books are this good, and they are, number three will be something to see. Mark D. Dunn has announced his presence on the Canadian Literary scene with authority.
(to see more about Fancy Clapping http://www.lpg.ca/CoCoPoPro/
http://www.buschekbooks.com/
http://www.scrivenerpress.com/
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
In This Thin Rain - Nelson Ball
Today's book of poems: In This Thin Rain. Nelson Ball. Mansfield Press. A Stuart Ross Book. Toronto. 2012.
Previous to this I've read Bird Tracks On Hard Snow (ECW, 1994), and At The Edge Of The Frog Pond (The Mercury Press, 2004).
You don't so much read a Nelson Ball book as inhale it. Ball's poetry is sparse. And in some ways it makes him the best poet out there. Ball is capable of saying more with less, or as Ezra Pound pleaded, he distills the language.
Relativity
One end
of a very long train
is leaving Paris
while the other end
hasn't
arrived
...
This isn't wit, it is wisdom. There is no pretence, no pontification. Instead Ball has tapped into a vein of truth through pure observation. He sees what we all see, the small transitory moments that make up our lives - but there is nothing "small" about his conclusions or observations.
Reading Nelson Ball is like drinking cool, clear, fresh water on a hot day. Refreshing and necessary.
http://mansfieldpress.net/
Previous to this I've read Bird Tracks On Hard Snow (ECW, 1994), and At The Edge Of The Frog Pond (The Mercury Press, 2004).
You don't so much read a Nelson Ball book as inhale it. Ball's poetry is sparse. And in some ways it makes him the best poet out there. Ball is capable of saying more with less, or as Ezra Pound pleaded, he distills the language.
Relativity
One end
of a very long train
is leaving Paris
while the other end
hasn't
arrived
...
This isn't wit, it is wisdom. There is no pretence, no pontification. Instead Ball has tapped into a vein of truth through pure observation. He sees what we all see, the small transitory moments that make up our lives - but there is nothing "small" about his conclusions or observations.
Reading Nelson Ball is like drinking cool, clear, fresh water on a hot day. Refreshing and necessary.
http://mansfieldpress.net/
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