Showing posts with label The North Sea Press. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The North Sea Press. Show all posts

Monday, April 30, 2012

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.