July 31, 2006

Where has my July gone, long time passing?

Night by Eamon Grennan

Julie: It's been too long, so I'm starting off slowly. This poem is a little boxy and unwelcoming on the page, but had me hooked from "caul of stars." The only misstep is the terribly abstract "swallow their ambition" which throws me right out of the mood. Still, is this lovely or what?

July 8 (belated)

Alone with the Artichokes by Stephen Murabito

Julie: Even ordinary or mundane things can occasionally surprise you with their beauty, and often the beauty seems so much more beautiful because of its surroundings. So it is with this poem, where plain language is occasionally enlivened by a striking image: pumpkin-gutted men, quartered hearts. I appreciated the images more because their surroundings were low-key.

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Song for Sampson by T. Alan Broughton

Julie: I didn't think I was going to like this poem, and then suddenly I did very much. I think it was

spreading musk
of Sampson over the surface of earth

Oh, I'm a sucker for a dead animal poem, I cannot tell a lie.

Writing Blind reviews Rita Dove

Rebecca of Writing Blind continues her reviews with a review of Rita Dove's Grace Notes.

July 7

Little Gossip by Sonja James

Julie: This poem isn't incompetent or anything, I just didn't much like it. It doesn't resonate with me.

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Blackberries by Mathias Svalina

Julie: Gosh there's a lot to love, here. Dense sonics and imagery, repetition, intrigue. It might be a little too long. A shorter poem can dazzle and meaning isn't as important. But I enjoyed it.

July 6

The Moose by Mathias Svalina

Julie: At the end of this poem, the poet writes:

You’re going to like it.
Did you like it?

Honestly, I have no idea. I can't figure out my own reaction.

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Chases in Arras by Karl Kirchwey

Julie: I really have to give this poem credit for tackling something a little different, but the execution does little for me. Even the slant rhymes are clunkier than they should be.

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Rock Singer Dies Onstage After Acrobatic Leap Gone Wrong by Christine DeSimone

Julie: Wow.

July 3

Wedding Bells for Me by Mathias Svalina

Julie: Well, that zoomed right over my head, but not before I ogled

She's calm as a mango
& warmer than hair.

Gosh. I like that. It's weird, yet I get it. I didn't really get the poem as a whole, but one line's enough today.

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My Psychic by James Kimbrell

Julie: This poem is over-the-top, and I bet Kimbrell would be the first to admit it. But though it isn't a poem that would seem to reward close study, it is entertaining and boisterous. It's not a poem I've read before. So few poems can say that.

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Missive in an Icelandic Room 3 by Jesse Ball

Julie: Huh. Well, I like short poems, but this one is either too short or way too long. It's flat and telly. Yeah, like my comments.

July 2

Biochemically Speaking, People Are Close Relatives of Soy by Charles Harper Webb

Julie: I'm going to drop that into conversation someday. "You know, Steve, biochemically speaking..." This poem lives up to its title rather marvelously, from that first great line to this later one:

Ghosts may live
in old toupees.

Do they ever! I really enjoyed the read, though I wouldn't like to read another written in this winky-winky style right away.

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Sacrament by Michelle Bitting

Julie: You know how someone might say, "I am offering an apology" instead of actually offering the apology? They talk about it as if talking about it is the same thing as actually doing. This poem struck me the same way, as if the author is telling me what she would be telling me, if she chose. And now I am telling you that I would be telling you more if I could figure out how to explain it. I would. I guess I'm pulling a show don't tell out of my rucksack, and I apologize for its dingy nature.