Iowa: Poems by Lucas Hunt + a Fiona Friday pic

I haven't read any poetry in quite some time so I was super excited to get a copy of Iowa by Lucas Hunt. I've read two other volumes of poetry by the author and enjoyed them both.

Iowa is just what it sounds like: poetry set in the state of Iowa, where the author grew up. Because I grew up in the Plains, there is a lot of subject matter I totally relate to in Iowa. Here's a great example:

Hawks

They take the air like words in blue display,

planes of rain that pass with outspread wings

and ride round the sky in sure, slow turns

to hunt hypnotic, float and dive--

birds witness wider fields,

their eyes survey a storm and pass

through light that changes everything in space.

~p. 19

The author has a lovely way of bringing the experiences of growing up in Iowa to life, whether he's talking about riding a bike down a dusty road or lying in a corn field with a girlfriend, the type of beer can you're most likely to see by the road, the experience of working on a farm. It's all very reminiscent of home to someone who grew up in similar territory. I got a particular buzz out of any poem with wind and wheat, my two favorite things about Oklahoma. Seriously, I love wheat fields.

Here's another excerpt (not the full poem):

Rusty and dusty on blacktop pavement

American flags in yards

train trestles piled by the tracks

country on the radio

deer sausage

chills in the bed of our Chevrolet.

~from "Wheatland Car Wash", p. 65

Highly recommended - A wonderful, transportive volume of poetry full of slice-of-life Americana in verse. You'll especially love this book if you appreciate the Plains or you're from Iowa, but there's something for every poetry lover in Iowa.

And, it's Friday but I didn't take any great photos of the cats, this week, so Fiona Friday is a cheat -- one of the photoshopped pictures of my girls that were done by people in my online cat group, this one of a conga line by Lauren Boutz. I can't look at this without smiling.

©2017 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Quick! A poem before it's too late and the Earth explodes and all that; from Light on the Concrete by Lucas Hunt

Okay, maybe the Earth will not blow up into a million-squillion tiny particles because I did, in fact, confuse Tuesday with the last day of April. I can pretend it's still April if I want to. In fact, I can change the post date and it will magically become April. Ha! At any rate, my point is that April was National Poetry Month (and still is, in my messed-up mind).

And, I think Light on the Concrete by Lucas Hunt is worth talking about:

And, not just because it's a lovely shade of lavender, which I can really get behind.

There are so many wonderful poems that I would happily just repeat 90% of the book if I had space, but I don't even have room to share my favorite, "Our Communication", which is written in six parts. So, a couple short examples of Lucas Hunt's lovely poetry.

No Greater Love

I still worship you sweet whisperer of secret longing,

still dance to hypnotic movements of your voice

and dream of the new valentines that lay before us.

Delicate one, your features entrance me in a bouquet

of desires that will not quit, there is something

that transpires between us now, the unknown expanse

Traversed by touch, odd yet familiar truths bordering

on consciousness, oh dear, let's forget everything

and swing from the stars tonight, I want to be with you.

--p. 29, Light on the Concrete

Tell me you wouldn't like someone to feel that way about you.

And, another, because it fits our bookish world and sounds like the perfect dream, a place to write.

Studio by the Harbor

Having left the sanctuary of house and found no cottage,

ventures resume in studio by the harbor

On a couch before fireplace, to report on manuscripts

via email, stories from the world.

Here the epics rage on wings of covers yet to be bound,

sagas continue, heroes have their party,

Characters roam, wars transpire yet remain, as sadly,

inevitably, ballads come to a close.

Yet in this den-like dream of home beats a poet's heart,

who sleeps to read the morning news

And journals about being, still, love is astonishment

while letters issue out this cozy pen--

Life, like some literary art, comes of figures cast

apart that long to be together again.

--p. 54

You can buy Light on the Concrete through that giant, online shopping galaxy that everyone knows about (but which I prefer not to link to; it starts with "A") or directly from Lucas Hunt's website. I reviewed Lives by Lucas Hunt in October of 2011 and liked some of the poetry but didn't love the volume, as a whole. I love Light on the Concrete. I can't wait to see what Mr. Hunt comes up with, next.

My copy of Light on the Concrete was sent directly by the author, but that in no way influences how I feel about its contents. I can tell you, however, that the author is charming and I'd like to meet him over coffee, someday.

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Lives by Lucas Hunt

Lives by Lucas Hunt

Copyright 2006

Vagabond Press - Poetry

93 pages

It takes a nation bent on home repair

and self improvement to destroy

abusive tyranny.

--from "The Close Followers" in Lives by Lucas Hunt, p. 41

Sometimes I wonder if this is the local insane asylum

for the squirrel kingdom,

Their version of a hospital for the psychotic.

Then I observed others in the neighborhood

And traveled to different towns, to the countryside

In hopes of spotting one stable squirrel, yet saw none.

To the contrary, my studies find these cute little animals

mentally abnormal,

To be clear--they revel in perilous situations.

--from "The Business of Squirrels" in Lives by Lucas Hunt, p. 52

I ordered a copy of Lives after Simon Van Booy recommended that his followers follow Lucas Hunt on either Twitter or Facebook -- I can't recall which. Hunt has a newer book out, Light on the Concrete, but I was unable to locate a copy (I'm pretty sure it hadn't been released, yet), so I just grabbed what I could find in order to get a taste of his writing. Simon told me he and Lucas have been friends for 17 years.

The description, copied from Paperback Swap:

Lives is a rich and lyrical collection of poems - both a passionate and occasionally ironical account of life in a modern world of infinite possibility. Here is the full spectrum of the varied colors of human experience from the pleasantly erotic to the disturbingly violent. The poet breaks from contemporary forms of expression to confront reality and the beyond, and to communicate powerful truths about eternal situations. Filled with vivid (and visceral) imagery of work, love, dreams, and death, these poems celebrate the phenomenal aspects of life while acknowledging the futility of our continual search for meaning. The need for ritual, reason, and intoxication all serve as (black) comic relief from the all too common experience of tragedy. Hear this invocation from one of the new poets of our age: Of origins beyond explanation, ruled by laws unknown, Come spirit of poetry, muse, sing us something new!

Actually, I didn't find the poetry in Lives at all lyrical. But, Lucas Hunt's poetry is definitely passionate, full of imagery, and unique. I think the book is very aptly titled. Lives crosses a broad spectrum; Hunt observes life, people, animals. I mentioned in a past post that I've watched a video of Hunt reading his poetry and he comes across as charming and funny. His writing might lead you to believe otherwise, at least in this book, as it can be a little dark. But, sometimes it is definitely ironic or humorous.

The bottom line:

Not a favorite book of poetry, but I still enjoyed reading Lives and came out of the reading with a few favorite poems and passages. I hope to eventually read his newer book, Light on the Concrete.

©2011 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.