Magnificent Errors is a beautifully atmospheric collection of poetry. Sheryl Luna focuses on those living in the margins and she does an amazing job of it, describing people who struggle whether it be through their socioeconomic background, mental health, those who have faced abuse, hard times, and injustice, and she describes the way that these are magnificent, awe-inspiring individuals. The localized nature themes make for beautiful symbolism, and the stories told were hard and heartbreaking. The author’s own struggles and recovery, her return to a place of light and beauty, was beautiful.
Thank you to Norte Dame Press, Kathryn Pitts, and Sheryl Luna, for this DRC.
The Only Card in a Deck of Knives is a collection of rambling, free-verse poetry that is constantly changing and contradicting all within one poem. Written from the perspective of a twenty something year-old who has a terminal illness, she has the ability to speak on a love of life, dying to die, as well as society’s reaction to sick women and its habit of discrediting their symptoms and feelings.
One of my favorite things about this collection was the way that each poem felt like a stream of consciousness. Things followed a train of thought, like a game where each word or phrase might remind the reader of their next point, or the next thought. You could follow the ideas even as long-winded as each piece might appear. Not every poem will relate to everyone, and how could it when it’s written from a specific perspective that the rest of us can only try to empathize with, but some of the lines were absolutely profound and lyrical.
Thank you to Lauren Turner, Buckrider Books, and Edelweiss for this review copy.
Splinters Are Children of Wood is not what you expect. It doesn’t feel like poetry as you’re reading it, it feels like someone tapped into the unfiltered, feral mind of Leia Penina Wilson and wrote every word down as it appeared without editing anything. My favorite words to describe this collection: visceral, aggressive, unrestrained, unhinged, and intense. This is raw.
My least favorite things about this collection: Not always structured, some parts are incredibly disjointed, the juxtaposition of the pages that mean absolutely nothing and do nothing for the collection when put next to the meaningful, emotional pages.
Coffee Days Whiskey Nights has a very unique concept in that on all the pages on the left side you have the “coffee days” which typically contain the more hopeful, happy poems and the “whiskey nights” which are the more insecure, unhappy poems. I loved this way of publishing the poetry, and I really think having some kind of organizational method in a poetry collection helps readers digest the words.
Unfortunately some of this collection seemed like rambling, unorganized thoughts that weren’t relatable. The poems that were relatable or inspirational seemed to only be so in a vague “anyone could have said it way,” that’s similar to inspirational tweets that go viral, for example. Good words but unspecific, and you aren’t sure where it really came from because they aren’t incredibly profound. This was disappointing for me because I had been really looking forward to this collection. I think Cyrus Parker has a lot of writing potential and a lot of thoughts to put to paper, and one day when all their skills are honed we’ll be blown away.
Thank you to NetGalley, Central Avenue Publishing, and Cyrus Parker for this advanced review copy.
In the Dark, Soft Earth starts strong, the first book in this poetry collection is absolutely captivating. My favorite section in this book thematically, as it uses nature to create beautiful imagery. Watson is able to use nature to his advantage when it comes to painting a picture in your mind. Book two and three introduce the “she” that is in Watson’s thoughts. She feels like someone slipping through fingers, a mystery, wearing a mask for everyone to see. The poetry collection is written mostly in all lower-case letters with minimal punctuation, which creates a feeling of continuity.
Book four is where it all begins to slip away from me. Book four abandons the nature that has been present up until now and instead uses jazz and music, but feels more like an interlude than anything. The next few books return to nature and elements, and we arrive at the title poem: In the Dark, Soft Earth. This poem feels like a perfect ending, a “rest at last” to close with. Except this isn’t the end. Instead we’re met with a book of poetry that is based on tarot cards, which I found to be ill-fitted with the rest of this poetry collection. This section feels less full of feeling and more forced to be picturesque. Book nine was a few short poems that didn’t feel cohesive or necessary, and ten was alright but not nearly as dazzling as the beginning of this book.
With all of that being said, I still think Frank Watson is a good writer. The first three sections dazzled me and I adored his writing style. Some of the poems and lines were fantastic and will stay with me. Aside from the books that didn’t feel like they fit ruining some of the original continuity, his poetry was well-written. If some of the work was cut out this would’ve been at least been a four, if not a five, star book for me.
Thank you to Frank Watson, Plum White Press, and Edelweiss for giving me this DRC in exchange for an honest review.
I love reading poetry books. Check out my review for Tyler Wittkofsky’s Coffee, Alcohol, and Heartbreak: A Poetry Collection. #writingcommunity #bookblog #bookreview #LaurensIndieBookClub #indieauthors #poetry #indiebookclub
I love reading poetry books. They’re quick reads that pack such an emotional punch. Much of the poetry that I’ve been introduced to comes from indie authors wanting to share their experiences with the world and they’re generally relatable. As such was my latest read (for a second time.) Check out my review for Tyler Wittkofsky’s Coffee, Alcohol, and Heartbreak: A Poetry Collection.
I stumbled across an instagram story that said something along the lines of “the trauma brain constantly seeks an environment similar” and I was just thinking how normal that sounded to me. How weirdly comforting it is to sometimes be so connected with those feelings of worthlessness, shame, neglect, etc… Because we are so used to them that things like true unconditional love, self love, pride, safety, etc, are … How easy it is to look back and find something that feels nostalgic in a good way but is actually a warning of the pain that is to come is truly insane… I keep finding things that I think make me happy but actually just feel “normal” and are truly devastating to my peace and it’s so hard to uncover these things. It’s so hard to feel like your “normal” is so twisted and bent out of shape that you have to re-mold it…
Anyways, those are my ramblings for today - this is officially my “I’m back post.” I know it’s heavy but this is where I’ve been at recently. I love you all and I hope you’re doing well. If you’re not, I’m here with you and for you and wishing you healing and growth.
It’s crazy how fucking tired I am lately even though I’ve just been at home, even though I’ve been sleeping, and just… Existing… Home is busy. Home is never ending noise… Home is so much work. Emotionally, mentally, and physically… I am burnt the fuck out but I’m finally getting back into this space where I can release… Where I can share and be raw; where I can be myself even though that too is quite exhausting… I would really like to see some stars though. To lay on a beach at midnight in my husband’s arms and breathe fresh air… .
1. The sky is dull; not a true blue like I usually like but I smile up at you anyways.
2. The air smells like ice and hot cocoa; you drink and then press your lips against my neck and it sends a tingle down my spine and into my toes which I can barely feel because I always refuse to wear boots in the snow.
3. Once I’ve stepped in too many puddles, you tell me “alright, jump up.” carrying me home on your back; I whisper in your ear and you grin beautifully.
4. We are sitting on the couch under the covers watching Inception for the millionth time.Your arm around my neck, our fingers interlaced, our faces pressed against each other’s; we breathe in the warmth from one another’s lips.
5. I’m standing in the kitchen, coffee in hand, crinkled nose, wearing your hoodie that is 3 sizes too big. My hair is messy but I am happier than usual; it radiates off of my freckled skin.
6. You are fast asleep covered in my favorite ice blue blanket from Kohl’s; my head lies on your chest. Twinkle lights shine down on us, barely lighting the room. My fingers are curled up in your chest hair while I sing “My Everything” by Ariana Grande quietly until I fall asleep too.
I guess we all have a little bit of ‘i want to save the world’ in us, but i just want to put it out there that it’s okay if you are able to only save one person and it’s also okay if that person is you.
If I’m entirely honest, and you say I must be, I want to stay with you all afternoon evening, night and tomorrow pressed into you so tightly that we don’t know whose belly made what sound, whose heart it is that is thumping like that until I don’t know if the sweat on my chest is yours or mine or ours.
Clementine Von Radics, from In A Dream You Saw A Way To Survive; “I swear, next time I’ll see you I’ll be funny”
[Text ID: “I will not mention the last time I saw you. / My mouth, so far from yours, I said / I am afraid I will spend entire years / trying not to need you. / As if I wasn’t certain. / As if this wasn’t my confession.”]
