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4.29 AVERAGE
4.29 AVERAGE
emotional
reflective
dark
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
When I read poetry collections, I either highlight in my e-reader, or tear tiny scraps of paper as markers in my hard copies to revisit phrases or copy down a line or stanza to remember.
I read Calling a Wolf a Wolf on my e-reader, and once I realized I was highlighting every single poem, I knew this was a Best of 2018 collection.
Akbar's work has received a lot of praise already, and I am just heaping it on. It was a stunning collection and one I will revisit. I hope to see more work by this amazing poet.
From "Exciting the Canvas"
Some people born before the Model T
lived to see man walk on the moon.
To be strapped like that
to the masthead of history
would make me frantic.
At parties I'd shout
I'm frantic, and you?
Like a fire, hungry and resisting containment,
I'd pound at the windows,
my mouth full of hor d'oeuvres.
I read Calling a Wolf a Wolf on my e-reader, and once I realized I was highlighting every single poem, I knew this was a Best of 2018 collection.
Akbar's work has received a lot of praise already, and I am just heaping it on. It was a stunning collection and one I will revisit. I hope to see more work by this amazing poet.
From "Exciting the Canvas"
Some people born before the Model T
lived to see man walk on the moon.
To be strapped like that
to the masthead of history
would make me frantic.
At parties I'd shout
I'm frantic, and you?
Like a fire, hungry and resisting containment,
I'd pound at the windows,
my mouth full of hor d'oeuvres.
dark
emotional
reflective
fast-paced
challenging
emotional
reflective
How is almost every single poem here such a masterpiece?
“It is not God I but the flower behind God I treasure” (40), Akbar says- and that’s what this whole book is about. An obsessive investment in magic, be it in the divine, the sacred or vulgar.
“It is not God I but the flower behind God I treasure” (40), Akbar says- and that’s what this whole book is about. An obsessive investment in magic, be it in the divine, the sacred or vulgar.
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
It was just okay for me. There were lots of phrases and sections within poems that I really liked, but that feeling didn’t usually carry through the whole poem. Some of the metaphors and figurative language lost me. Some of the repeated images I just didn’t like. About halfway through the collection I looked up a video of Kaveh reading one of the poems out loud. Seeing his delivery helped me figure out the style and structure. I tried reading the poems the way I imagined he would, but that became tiresome after a while. If I were enjoying the content more, I might have had the patience to continue trying to read it stylistically. Overall, this just wasn’t my cup of tea.
dark
emotional
sad
slow-paced
Y si bien hubo muchos poemas que me gustaron, fueron muy pocos los que me quitaron el aliento y me dejaron con ganas de releer y releer de nuevo. Lo disfruté mientras leía, pero lo que más me gusta de la poesía es el maravillarse con el lenguaje, y este libro no me dejó 100% maravillada. Me tardé meses leyendo porque simplemente no me llamaba mucho el libro. Me pareció que había muchos poemas buenos, pero muy pocos increíbles.
Unburnable the Cold is Flooding Our Lives fue uno de mis favoritos, estas son las ultimas dos estrofas.
I am glad I still exist glad for cats and moss
and Turkish indigo and yet to be light upon the earth
to be steel bent around an endless black to once again
be God’s own tuning fork and yet and yet
emotional
This is the best poetry collection I've read since Crush. By that I mean, it's just as emotionally raw just as intentional with its language just as memorable. Akbar's use of language in every poem had me <i>feeling</i> something which are the types of poems that really stick out to me. I kept trying to put this down so I could do other things only to keep picking it back up.
I can't stand the type of insta-poetry that is relatable without depth, which is to say the type that's kept vague enough where of course a lot of people can relate but it's not so specific as to evoke anything real. I want to read poetry that reaches directly into my chest, chokes my heart, and drags it up through my throat kicking and screaming, anything less is just not going to impress me.
This was not necessarily always relatable—though there were definitely lines I related to within it—but it always resonated. There was so much in here where it brought up feelings within me that I'd forgotten I even had.
I think that's why I'm beginning to learn poetry about grief, about generational trauma, about losing your faith despite looking everywhere for it. That's the type of poetry that I now realize speaks to me. And I realize that because of the poems in this collection and the fact that I couldn't put this collection down.
Funnily enough, a quote that makes me think of poetry like this and like Crush is actually from a Watsky song (Moral of the Story to be exact.) "I write 'til my fingers look like a bouquet of roses." It reminds me of poetry and of literary writing that leans poetic (in a way that is deep not in a way that's purple prose) because it feels like the writers' equivalent of shouting until your throat feels harsh and you lose your voice. I could feel that just reading this.
Will likely re-read many times.
I can't stand the type of insta-poetry that is relatable without depth, which is to say the type that's kept vague enough where of course a lot of people can relate but it's not so specific as to evoke anything real. I want to read poetry that reaches directly into my chest, chokes my heart, and drags it up through my throat kicking and screaming, anything less is just not going to impress me.
This was not necessarily always relatable—though there were definitely lines I related to within it—but it always resonated. There was so much in here where it brought up feelings within me that I'd forgotten I even had.
I think that's why I'm beginning to learn poetry about grief, about generational trauma, about losing your faith despite looking everywhere for it. That's the type of poetry that I now realize speaks to me. And I realize that because of the poems in this collection and the fact that I couldn't put this collection down.
Funnily enough, a quote that makes me think of poetry like this and like Crush is actually from a Watsky song (Moral of the Story to be exact.) "I write 'til my fingers look like a bouquet of roses." It reminds me of poetry and of literary writing that leans poetic (in a way that is deep not in a way that's purple prose) because it feels like the writers' equivalent of shouting until your throat feels harsh and you lose your voice. I could feel that just reading this.
Will likely re-read many times.