Showing posts with label poet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poet. Show all posts

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Lesley Choyce, All Alone at the End of the World: Poetry Review

 Lesley Choyce’s latest collection of poetry includes pieces both anecdotal and philosophical. All Alone at the End of the World gives readers the sense that they are not alone at all, but sitting with an experienced storyteller who leverages his unique voice to make the poetry fly off of the page. Using wit and sharp diction, the speaker spins tales of the mundane into larger-than-life adventures that ensnare the attention of the readership.
Choyce has the capacity to create tangible imagery, vividly translating his lived experiences onto the page. Readers feel their hearts race while reading “Black and White Cat on Oxford Street,” a poem that is not profound in the subject that it treats, but which powerfully creates fear and then relief:
The cat is, I swear
in flight,
its trajectory taking it
straight into the grill of my car
when suddenly
it understands the density of its disaster,
angels grabbing at its claws midflight,
flipping it backwards
onto the safe hard comfort of the curb (19) 
With technical prowess, Choyce uses line breaks and enjambment to generate suspense, while alliteration highlights the main events of his colloquial story. The poet’s retelling makes an extraordinary poem out of an ordinary event.
All Alone at the End of the World transports readers to Halifax, Nova Scotia, and then takes them around the world. Building on themes of the universal, Choyce’s book is infused with philosophical poems that pull his readership out of their current surroundings, and invite them to join him on his journey of self-reflection. For example, he recognizes the complexity of identity in “Contradictions”:
This poem is not helping
To solve the threadbare mystery
of me, however,
and my desire to be here and now
but also scattered everywhere
and anywhere at once.
This is an ambitious poem
going nowhere. (21)
Building on a common issue, the speaker’s inability to solve the “mystery / of me” conjures a sense of empathy from readers. Mirroring the role of a mentor speaking to an acolyte, Choyce’s narrative relays a message reminiscent of Rainer Maria Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet:  “. . . be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue” (34-35). The playful tone creates the sense that the speaker accepts that his desire is unsolvable, even before stating that the poem is going nowhere; Choyce embraces his contradictions, and inspires others to do the same.
          Choyce’s All Alone at the End of the World finds beauty in seemingly monotonous aspects of life and encourages readers to look for splendors often taken for granted.


Works Cited

Rilke, Rainer Maria. Letters to a Young Poet. Trans. MD Herter Norton. New York: WW Norton & Co., 1993. Print.

by Benjamin Lord, with input from Monica Grasse, Sharisse LeBrun and Molly Strickland









Sunday, November 24, 2013

From the Bottom of your Bottom - Found Poetry is More than Words.

If you want to know anything about Atlantic Canadian Poetry, it seems you need to dig a LOT deeper than Wikipedia. RM Vaughan, giving him a search results in a dismal paragraph that randomly ends in “he is openly gay”. Thank goodness both has a website and frequently checks and replies to his emails.

RM Vaughan is a Canadian Poet who is from St. John New Brunswick. He was born in the year 1965. He has his Masters of Arts in English at Univeristy of New Brunswick. He now lives and works in Toronto Ontario, he has written many poetry books and chapbooks of his own such as A Selection of Dazzling Scarves and 96 Tears (In My jeans). He has also been included in many anthologies both nationally and internationally. He has been nominated for the National Magazine Award, the William Kilbourne Award, and the ReLit Award (as the author bio of his new book Compared to Hitler: Selected Essays says: always the bridesmaid).

RM Vaughan


Now I was provided with the essay “Reuse and Recycle: Finding Poetry in Canada” by Shane Rhodes. This Essay is a description of found poetry and some poets within Canada who practice the art of found poetry. When I first read RM Vaughan’s work I was wondering how in heck I would use this essay as a way to look at one of his poems because his poetry does not seem to be the idea of found poetry that many of us carry; however, this changed when I reread the essay and stumbled upon this quote”

“[F]ound poetry should probably be seen more as a technique with varying levels of application than a poetic sub-genre.”

I nodded in agreement to this stack of paper before me. Of course! Found poetry isn’t really a genre in and of itself, and it can be seen in many different angles. I also connected this with a quote from Louis Dudek that was included in the essay:

                “[S]ignificance appears inherent in the object.”
So when I found 96 Tears (In My Jeans) I understood what they meant. Found Poetry doesn’t have a specific form; it is not only newspaper and a Sharpie. 96 Tears (In My Jeans) is found in a chapbook by the same name from Broken Jaw press. The entire poem is 96 observations, and the memories attached to those observations, that Vaughan has about this old pair of jeans that are falling apart. To date this poem, it was copy written in 1997.

1
just over the kneecap, left side, sucking cock on
the floor at the Barracks.

2
at the point where the zipper meets the waist
button, digging at myself, I guess.

3
inseam, lower left nut pouch, from sitting with
my legs open all summer on porch steps and
park benches.

4
frayed pocket hem, lower right end, provocative
standing and ceaseless rucking around for
change.

5
worn thin under the buttom cup of the right ass
cheek, getting spanked by an older guy in some
highrise on Carleton.

6
cuff on left leg, caught in a bike chain, no sexual
overtones.

This poem is full of good laughs, great imagery, and heartfelt moments. Vaughan paints a picture of his life at the time beautifully, thanks to the holes in his jeans. He has found poetry in his jeans, which means that you can find poetry anywhere.


                So, go on! Go find your poetry. You will probably find it where you least expect it, after all it's more than words.