SECTION
FOURTEEN
POETRY
REVIEWS
sm
COLUMN
SEVENTY-TWO, JUNE 1, 2002
(Copyright © 2002 Al Aronowitz)
BLACKLISTED JOURNALIST poetry
reviewer and LUCID MOON editor Ralph Haselmann Jr., who suffered extreme
injuries in a freak accident near his home last Fall, is still in therapy at the
Summit Ridge Nursing and Rehabilitation Center on Summit Street in West Orange,
N.J., where he now is re-learning how to talk and how to type on a keyboard,
according to his mother, Kathy Haselmann. She added that he can now sit in a
wheelchair and feed himself. He still faces further months of rehabilitation.
Mrs. Haselmann emphasized that he may now receive visitors and he has been much
cheered by the cards and messages he has received.
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AMERIKA
BY DOT-TO-DOT
Amerika by
dot-to-dot, poetry chapbook by Paul Weinman.
1998, 28 pages, $2 cash or check made out to Cari Taplin, editor, Kitty Litter
Press, PO Box 3189, Nederland, CO 80466-3189. Paul Weinman is a poet who is
committed to his work. He squeezes out all the intellectual doodoo and reshapes
it into hot air balloons from where he catches glimpses of America by
dot-to-dot. He starts off each poem with a town, state and population figure and
then takes a poetic snapshot of that town in paragraph form with hilarious
details. It's all like some comical almanac entry. Often, he lets his hot air
balloon soar to heights of silliness. Old Coast, SC. Popl. 7,884 '88 reads:
"Gonads had been listed for the Deli Dept. Aged tractors as floor
supervisors. "Damn!" said the grandmother of 21. "Hot damn and
donuts for quack doctors and for all potholes that fester with crickets!"
My mother had warned me of these thickening days. She'd sit me down and tap my
head wack, wack it with her wooden spoon. Her chant was steady, her clothes…ragged
And, I'll admit, even my midlife erections would respond to the sigh of old
shoes. Kind of a delayed reaction." I can't take this stuff seriously as
poetry, but it sure is amusing and Weinman has found a new form to work within.
He's certainly an original!
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BALLOONS
AND TWISTED PINS
Balloons and
Twisted Pins, poetry
chapbook by Steve Conway and Cari Taplin. 1997, 16 pages, $2 cash or check made
out to Cari Taplin, editor, Kitty Litter Press, PO Box 3189, Nederland, CO
80466-3189. A fine collaboration of somewhat prickly poetry, hence the title
Balloons and Twisted Pins. The Wind Whispers by Steve Conway reads: "The
wind whispers through the trees while waves wash onto the shore where weather
worn rocks are kissed by the warmth of wispy rays of sun when it rises from the
watery sea wagon wheels widen the ruts of time washed on its westward journey
wafting overhead waking the world eventually waning wearily from whence it came
& a waterfall of stars weepingly works across the wideness of sky."
Wideness Of Sky by Cari Taplin reads: "never been so vulnerable and free as
when I was under the huge and infinite sky of Wyoming or Montana or South Dakota
or new Mexico or Kansas or any number of places where trees and city structures
don't block the view close you in. where the truth of Mother Nature takes your
breath." These two poets go well together.
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BLACK
SPRING PRESS
Black Spring
Press mezzotint series. Free with sase
to Black Spring Press, 61-36 160th Street, Flushing, NY 11365. A mezzotint is a
colored cardboard broadside equaling 4 pages of poetry. This is a fine looking
series with some surprising and engaging poetry. #4, Teachers Thinking I Was
Unprepared by Miriam A. Cohen had some terse imagery and fine details. Cancer
reads: "Wooden Dove on my mantle sedates the room today I am fully devoted
to "Marilyn" who shared affection like a big dog; small cat with
little life left." Miriam's poetry is nostalgic for a better time. #5,
Notes From The Underground by Albert Huffstickler, repeats certain phrases in
each poem to good effect. That Certain Something reads: "I like the way she
sits, I relish the affinity of ass and chair, the arch of her back, the prim
poise of her seatedness deluges me in fantasies, I like the way she sits."
#6, The Horseman Knew Her, by Raymond Mason, is funny in a stand-up comedy sort
of way. Times and Times reads: Some politician has written a pamphlet stating
that if your children start getting humanistic ideas they are most certainly on
drugs! No doubt about it. In my young days they thought you were a
communist." Ba-dump-ba! #7, Blues Lecture #1 by Gordon T. Osing is divided
into 13 parts, each part a saying of wisdom about the blues. #2 Reads:
"Image devours image in the forest, shadow light, ad infinitum; in the
random, decomposing leaf capillaries resides an old map of Paris." Some
insightful heavy logic going on there, very refreshing. #8, Beyond A Man Thing
by John Grey has some rough violent imagery, if you like your poetry dark. The
Cut In Your Arm reads: "you're looking at your blood like it's a mirror
your face is forming in each droplet your cheeks like flaming roses your eyes
red as sunsets you figure it's a prison breakout you're escaping from yourself
down your trembling arm over your white knuckles along the ridges of your palm
that's you dripping like a melting rooftop making puddle after puddle on the
floor it's a kind of thaw you tell the stabbing pain you'll take it." #9,
The Aesthetics of a Yo-Yo by Nathan Graziano is a good overview of his style,
which is rich in detail and has good use of metaphors but is slightly ho-hum.
Style reads: "Everyone has a tattoo these days. Then there's you. Blue
jeans and a t-shirt, hair pulled back in a dull ponytail. Pierced plainly in the
ears only. But I see your style so clear when you light a cigarette or reach
across my chest to turn off the bedroom light." I'd like to see more
tension and drama in Nate's poetry. He does have talent, it just need s a
jumpstart. All in all a good series, for the price of a sase, which can't be
beat.
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CAUGHT
IN A CRYSTAL BOWL
Caught In A
Crystal Bowl, poetry
chapbook by Wolfgang Somary. 2000, 32 pages, $6 check made out to Manifold, 99
Vera Ave., London N21 1RP. This is a well-written collection of verse that
touches on cosmology, ancient myths, nature and the beauty of life. The opening
poem is ripe with amazing imagery: A Singer's Prayers: " Tinder of life in
the fire I glow, wind of the free in the breath that I blow, ploughman on
horseback on earth that I fill, sail of my hope on the ocean I spill, sum of all
sounds, you beyond names, tongue of my silence and cadence of flames: sing
through my throat, oh make me your flute -- my pulse be your cymbals, my
heartstrings your lute. Lend me the hum of an eagle in flight, a comet in
snowdrift to brighten your night, the crown of an elm to shelter your birds,
tune me to sing you a song without words…" Beautiful sing-song
imagery and a sense of history make this collection a treat to read.
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THE
CARDINAL POINTS
The Cardinal
Points, poetry chapbook by Carlos
Sherman. 2000, 96 pages, $10 check made out to Manifold, 99 Vera Ave., London
N21 1RP. Beautiful Native American Indian poetry steeped in nature, tribal lore
and mysticism. Sherman writes with dignity and poise of the afterlife in many of
the poems here, including Milky Way: "River Of heaven of Indian history the
home of gods, animals and deeds, cradle of myth-science or science-myth Andes
Bible who art in heaven, confirm, I pray, the holiness of the past. That wise
law of the Indian who has studied your stars that he might understand His own
life Milky Way, witness eternal to life and death, image of the Andes from sun
to sun, and from moon to moon, cradle of myth-science or science-myth, Andes
Bible who art in heaven, recall, I pray, the genocide of yesterday, today and
tomorrow, for ever and ever, Hau." These are the best, most heartfelt poems
I read this week, and the book is in four languages, including Spanish, English,
and Russian.
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ETERNAL
HUM
Eternal Hum, poetry chapbook By Dave Church.
2000, 20 pages, $2 cash or check made out to Cari Taplin, editor, Kitty Litter
Press, PO Box 3189, Nederland, CO 80466. Another fine Kitty Litter chapbook,
this one by Dave Church is full of short and sweet poems, plain and simple
observations. The Falling Of The First Snow reads: "The falling of the
first snow arrived today just as moon drifted off to sleep. Landscape blizzard
white by sunburst at high noon -- leaving me dreaming young again -- when fun
was ordinary -- and time present tense only. Before night blackened sky, I sat
back near my window -- my ears to children below -- moving me to smile -- not
enough though to join in -- the years having drained that part of me."
Church has a keen eye for detail and a good way of commenting on life that comes
off as hard-won wisdom. A fine effort. I would like to see a full-length book by
Dave Church some day, he has a lot to say and he says it well.
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FIRST
FLUSH
First Flush, poetry chapbook by Bob Newman.
1999, 40 pages, $6 check made out to Manifold, 99 Vera Ave., London N21 1RP.
Newman writes about such subjects as love and science with a playfulness and an
air of knowledge about him. Eclipse reads: "This is the day when we shall
see the moon dispute the morning sky; usurp the sun; beshroud the world in
unaccustomed dark. We know this -- and we know it won't last long. This is the
day; the wait will not be long until we're on the dark side of the moon. Unseen
by us, our life-giver, the sun, will impotently rage against the dark. The
birds, lulled into silence by the dark, will tuck heads under wings " but not
for long. Two minutes only, this night of the moon, before the sky is reclaimed
by the sun. Though there is nothing new under the sun, all seems new at the
dying of the dark. A second full dawn chorus, loud and long will celebrate the
passing of the moon. Don't worry when the moon obscures the sun, although the
day be dark, it won't be long." The poems are informative, funny, and
unapolagetically British in a formal way. A good collection.
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LOVE-HATE
CONTINUUM
Love-Hate
Continuum, poetry chapbook by Mark
Terrill, with cover art by Terrill. 2001, 36 pages, $5 cash or check made out to
Green Bean Press, PO Box 237, NYC 10013. Mark Terrill has a fine sense of humour
and displays it well in this chapbook. Ultimatum reads: " I remember
picking you up on the way to work you sitting on the steps of your Palo Alto
house reading your bible me, hungover, tired, in my junkyard Rambler station
wagon knowing the whole thing was doomed already you having told me it was me or
him and me being a non-believer I knew I didn't stand a chance against the
allure of that goofy carpenter's son from Bethlehem and when it was finally over
I wasn't so pissed that you'd been born again I was just pissed that you'd been
born at all." Just the right amount of sarcasm to balance the humour in
these poems. Terrill writes with a wizened air, been there done that. I enjoyed
this collection.
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THE
LUMMOX BOOK OF DAYS
The Lummox
Book Of Days, 2001
Calander with maxims by B.Z. Niditch. 2001, 64 pages, $6 ppd cash or check made
out to The Lummox Press, POB 5301, San Pedro, CA 90733. This is a handy little
calendar, another in the charming Little Red Book series, with 150 maxims by B.Z.
Niditch, such as "To be alone and isolated is to be a writer" and
"every poet is born with a death sentence: the death of his language."
A little stern, but these maxims make you think and are fun to read.
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THE
SAN PEDRO POEMS
The San Pedro
Poems, poetry chapbook by Raindog
(R.D. Armstrong). 2001, 48 pages, $6 ppd to The Lummox Press, POB 5301, San
Pedro, CA 90733. Here Raindog writes of a time and a place, San Pedro,
California, final home of poet Charles Bukowski. The poems are wistful and sad
and funny all at the same time. San Pedro reads: "Yes, it's true, I left
San Pedro though in truth it must also be said that you can never leave this
town entirely. It will follow you like a bad rumour like a stray dog like a
dream never realized never captured. Even though I only lived here for 6 years
it felt like home to me. But "home" is an uneasy concept something
always sought after rarely achieved "A place in the world" a distant
vision a life glimpsed in passing something that I've seen or thought I've seen
but never been able to find when I retraced my steps…There will
always be a piece of San Pedro buried deep in my heart. A burning ember that
cannot be ignored." A fine collection, Raindog writes well.
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SEASONS
FROM THE SECOND FLOOR
Seasons From
The Second Floor, poetry
chapbook by Nathan Graziano. 2001, 52 pages, $5 cash or check made out to Green
Bean Press, PO Box 237, NYC 10013. Nate Graziano is a meat and potatoes poet.
Which is ok, I like my steak with ketchup and onions and my potato with globs of
butter and sour cream and salt and pepper. Hence the problem -- Nate doesn't
write with ketchup and onions and globs of butter and sour cream and salt and
pepper, he just sticks to meat and potatoes, which is bland and boring. One
Romantic reads: "She's sitting on the couch. The phone bill in her lap. A
calculator in one hand and a strand of brown hair wrapped around her index
finger. She's dividing a large number by two. I'm sitting cross-legged on the
rug. Picking at the blue carpet and staring out the window at a telephone wire
cutting across a tree. I'm thinking about Kansas and how crisp the air tastes in
the middle of nowhere." Kinda wistful, kinda funny, kinda dull too. I dunno,
Nathan has talent, but I've read better by Nathan.
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THE
SPIRIT COLLECTION
The Spirit
Collection, poetry chapbook by Elizabeth
Kay. 2000, 42 pages, $7 check made out to MANIFOLD, 99 Vera Ave., London N21
1RP… Elizabeth Kay writes tightly constructed verse that mostly
rhymes. Her poems are rich in description and are often humorous. She uses
razor-sharp metaphors that suggest a fine wit and vocabulary. Metrophobia reads:
"a fear of poetry runs deep within the class. The students blanch at words
like ode; trip over feet, feel sure they'll never win; whatever is a bloody
antipode? Zit's like an exercise in writing code. Sestinas come and go, the
weeks progress; the metre's inching forward, stress is less pronounced. Some
hone and polish, some refrain; some learn the rules, apply them -- others guess,
go blank, get tanka-ed up, and try again. Note the puns "metre's inching
forward" and "get tanka-ed up". I enjoyed the playfulness in
Kay's work very much.
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UNCERTAIN
AGE
Uncertain Age, poetry chapbook by Hilary
Sheers. 2000, 54 pages, $8 check made out to Manifold, 99 Vera Ave., London N21
1RP. Beautifully wrought turn of phrases and pungent imagery make this poetry
collection sing. Old Haunts reads: "For old times' sake I found the pub
again hard by the long abandoned slipway and the dead docks now bedecked with
flower baskets its sign repainted gilt with curlicues inside, the frosted glass
replaced with reproduction pine and fruit machines even the bar billiards table
glowed green as a fresh mown lawn stroked by new cues. I left friends seated
round a table twenty years ago basking in the pallid sun of May their sooty
salty wit glistening on the dust black smoky garden. I had expected them to sail
as I was doing out on the tide to more vigorous places done with this dancing
ring the neverending swapping of emotional washing. I took my drink to the faded
lawn beside these watery streets where sat the group, slumped deeper in their
seats hands stiffening round glasses skin, cheeks, bellies, breasts sagging the
walk up to the bar an effort. Dawdling years shrunk flat as their slothful talk
batted sluggish from lip to ear and back unnoticed like the passing ships. I was
the wonder of the year wit barbed sharp as tennis balls lobbed in a slow
descriptive arc till lethargy stole back. Over the drawling sentences I caught a
quick riposte a cuffing shot, a verbal volley. I looked to see the source. Slow
eyes followed mine reflecting in their desultory gaze a group of twenty-somethings
whose talk waltzed bright as skin, taut as muscles, fresh as bitter tossing the
future in the air." Sheers tackles such wistful subjects as getting older,
memories, old haunts. A fine collection.
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WHAT's
THIS ABOUT, THEN?
What's This
About, Then?, poetry
chapbook by Kevin L. Donihe, with cover art by Matt B. Seats 2000, 24 pages, $2
cash or check made out to Cari Taplin, editor, Kitty Litter Press, PO Box 3189,
Nederland, CO 80466. This is poetry that Edgar Allen Poe might write today, if
he were alive and fey! The poems are heartfelt, tender, and a little dark. In
The Garden Of Kali reads: "In the Garden of Kali wafts the odor of
honeysuckle of rosewood (step cautiously -- the roots here drink from the
memories of divorced flesh/denuded bone and at the core of each flower lies a
calcium smile) a true gardener knows that for every death there is a convulsive
yet equally beautiful birth and in the Garden of Kali every grave opens into a
womb." Kevin writes really well; this is some of the best poetry I reviewed
this week.
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Please send poetry books, chapbooks, cds, broadsides or whatever for review to Ralph Haselmann Jr. at 67 Norma Road, Hampton, New Jersey 08827. Include price plus postage, who to make check out to, and address to order from. I will review them within 2 weeks and send you a copy of the review. Publishers have my permission in advance to reprint any part of my reviews as long as they send me a copy of what it appears in. The reviews go out to several small press discussion lists, including David McNamara's poetry )ism( list, Doug Holder's list, Kelly DeSaint's list, J.J. Campbell's list and Frank Moore's list, after which they will be archived on my Lucid Moon Poetry Website. My reviews are also picked up by 5 websites, including Al Aronowitz' The Blacklisted Journalist website (http://www.bigmagic.com/pages/blackj), Joe Grant's BookZen website (http://www.bookzen.com/ ), Andre Cordrescue's Exquisite Corpse, (http://www.exquisitecorpse.org), Carlye Archibeque's The Independent Review Site (http://www.irs.theroadlesstraveled.org), Brian Morrisey's Poesy magazine and website (http://www.geocities.com/bmorrise2/) Don Hoyt's Web Writer's Workshop (http://www.webwritersworkshop.com). My telephone number is (908) 735-4447, e-mail ralphy@lucidmoonpoetry.com and my Lucid Moon Poetry Website is http://www.lucidmoonpoetry.com. Please visit my website often and sign my guestbook!
Ralph Haselmann Jr. ##
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