”There are cages, and then there are your eyes” AND THEN THERE IS THIS BOOK YOU WON’T FORGET NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU TRIED //I Wore My Blackest Hair//
What it’s like to be an outsider in a country? Yes, that’s what underlies each and every word in this book but even if you have not known that feeling, you can still relate to her words. YOU KNOW WHY? Because in some way or another, we are ALL ALIEN TO THIS WORLD, IN THIS WORLD.
We think we are so smart having split the atom and toured the heavens.
We think we KNOW the world now.
We think we know the person staring at us from behind the shiny, reflective surface of self-discovery – MOCKING US, MIMICKING US.
We are delusional.
And that’s what this book is about. Being delusional while struggling to keep your sanity? The former being the world and the latter being you? Yeah, THAT’S what I am talking about, what SHE is talking about.
I never knew what magic half-formed incoherent sentences filled up-to the brink with feelings of frustration, reproach, anger, sadness, and a humble but unnatural silence could perform before I read her words. They are as beautiful as a cocoon on a leaf – YOU CAN’T HELP BUT ADMIRE THE RAW BEAUTY – harmoniously affected and unaffected by the outward forces.
There is a literary quality to her pain which gives beauty to expression and meaning to beauty.
ALL WORDS AND NO FEELS makes //Smoke and Mirrors// BAD POETRY
Maybe it’s just me (I RATHER DOUBT IT) or maybe there REALLY is something wrong – something really out-of-context in this AWFULLY short ”poetry” book.
Now, don’t get me wrong, but as a reader, I need the words to build up the tension first and THEN release it – like the clouds – to get REALLY involved in any book but in these already few words, I just couldn’t feel ANYTHING AT ALL
These are nothing but incoherent snippets that our minds form day in and day out. I wouldn’t say I HATED it but I was completely indifferent towards it.
If only these ”poems” had contained any real spark. If only the ”sensual love” that the poet felt himself had been successfully conveyed on the paper as well. If only these words hadn’t lacked the emotions.
But poetry is supposed to make us feel – feel everything DEEPLY – and that JUST WASN’T THE CASE WITH THIS PARTICULAR ANTHOLOGY.
It felt like I was reading a regular somebody’s 2 AM thoughts and THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT!!! But let’s just CALL A SPADE A SPADE – THIS WASN’T POETRY.
These were thoughts from someone’s personal diary and I AM SORRY but the ‘midnight musings’ of an individual has no REAL meaning to anyone else EXCEPT the writer.
Now, maybe this could’ve been different. Maybe if the words hadn’t been completely devoid of any depth BUT for THAT to happen, the reader has to feel the same FLOOD OF EMOTIONS that the writer feels while writing those words.
Now, words NEED to have a life of their own – A BREATH OF THEIR OWN to make a lasting impact on reader. BUT ‘Smoke and Mirrors’ FAILED to make me feel anything WHICH IMMEDIATELY RENDERS IT FORGETTABLE. And that is NOT a mark of a good book. AND ESPECIALLY GOOD POETRY. The words lacked any REALITY OF THEIR OWN!
These poems could’ve been in a DICTIONARY as far as I am concerned.
I AM SORRY to cause the poet any sting here BUT I’d not recommend this to anyone who knows what REAL POETRY IS.
TRUE TO IT’S MEANING //Flux//
Reading FLUX feels like reading pages from my own heart – it reeks of disappointment, smells of hope, and is fragrant with love – in all it’s forms, in all it’s delusions, it’s bitter-sweet ache– ALL THE THE SAME TIME!
These words seemed to vibrate with both a life of their own AND a piece of my own self.
I could feel every little emotion intensely, crawling up and down my skin and then making it’s way deeper and deeper and deeper still.
Maybe it’s just because I have gone through experiences similar to the author’s but there was something bizarrely omniscient about these words – the way they took command over your head – that left me exasperated AND delighted by the time I reached the end.
It was as if I was reading about the glorious time that has passed away, the moments in time that still beat with with a harmonious discord, and the future that probably holds more storms than gentle, soothing rain.
And YET, I LOVED IT TO BITS.
HELP ME UN-READ THIS SHIT!//Permeable Divide//
I am sorry but I JUST COULD NOT FINISH THIS ONE. I tried. BELIEVE ME, I DID. 😦 I spent two hours staring at the words – trying to find something that would interest me.
But these little poems are food for the vultures – THEY ARE DEAD!!!
No emotions AT ALL!
I sat there resolute to FINISH THE BOOK but my mind refused to comply. AND WELL, gotta listen to the boss. So, there you have it, ANOTHER BOOK SOOO UNBEARABLY HORRIBLE THAT I HAD TO DNF it.
THAT WAS SOMETHING, huh? I AM TELLING YOU, it took me sooo long to write this post.
YOU BETTER APPRECIATE IT. 😉