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4.29 AVERAGE
4.29 AVERAGE
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.
“paradise lies / at the feet of mothers I will believe you when you tell me your dreams / please mother me kiss all my secret rashes I am awake and will be” (20)
“I wish he were here now / he could be here / this cave is big enough for everyone / look at all the diamonds” (65)
“What I’m trying to say is I think it’s okay to accelerate around / corners, to grunt back at the mailman and swallow all / your laundry quarters” (69).
I dog-eared so many poems in WOLF that it became silly. Even the poems I didn’t usually had lines that made me shake my head in wonder. Love some of these descriptions of Akbar’s work: “a poetic that (often) suggests the infinite within each object” and “critical tenderness.” I think WOLF may be my new favorite poetry collection?
“I wish he were here now / he could be here / this cave is big enough for everyone / look at all the diamonds” (65)
“What I’m trying to say is I think it’s okay to accelerate around / corners, to grunt back at the mailman and swallow all / your laundry quarters” (69).
I dog-eared so many poems in WOLF that it became silly. Even the poems I didn’t usually had lines that made me shake my head in wonder. Love some of these descriptions of Akbar’s work: “a poetic that (often) suggests the infinite within each object” and “critical tenderness.” I think WOLF may be my new favorite poetry collection?
I'm gonna round up my 3.5 here because there were great lines throughout, but overall I felt so distanced from the poems and i thought I connected to them very very late considering the breadth of the poems on this thing. I really liked it when the distance of the words used matched with the poet's personal history but they weren't as many as I'd have liked. The poem that gives the collection its title is my personal favorite.
I liked 'Pilgrim Bell' better but this was equally astonishing. His style is very fluid and familiar by now and remains consistent in my second reading of his work. Reading this work feels like you're in that sweet spot of perspective between knowledge, pain, and pleasure. Oh my god.
dark
reflective
slow-paced
reread 02/15/2024
Normalize realizing and admitting that we’re wrong.
I reread this because I came across my copy while browsing other unread poetry collections I was choosing from. Some lines leaped up from memory, prompting me to think I was wrong about my first impression. Result: I came back to this realizing that I barely scratched the surface during my first read.
Akbar’s work mostly speaks of addiction, alcoholism, and recovery—of living in a body that you want to escape, bitterly waking up every day discovering is still your own, and despite that (or because of this complicated relationship), one that you still want to cradle. Raw and visceral. Is it now one of my favorites? Maybe.
It’s hard to speak of something so gauche as ambition while the whole wheezing mosaic chips away but let it be known I do hope one day to be free of this body’s dry wood if living proves anything it’s that such astonishment is possible
-----------------
It’s hard to speak of something so gauche as ambition while the whole wheezing mosaic chips away but let it be known I do hope one day to be free of this body’s dry wood if living proves anything it’s that such astonishment is possible
-----------------
“I’ve given this coldness many names thinking if it had a name it would have a solution thinking if I called a wolf a wolf I might dull its fangs…”
This collection felt like a mixed bag for me—a combination of extremes, really. Several pieces and lines moved me and earned visceral reaction. Those I will keep coming back to. <3
“I'm becoming more a vessel of memories than a person it's a myth
that love lives in the heart it lives in the throat we push it out
when we speak when we gasp we take a little for ourselves”
(just wow)
But the thing is, I didn’t connect with many of them. Some poems felt disjointed and I thought some metaphors didn’t make sense, which disrupted my reading flow with a “huh?” The similes and metaphors felt randomly assembled that while I kind of understood the individual portions, they felt disconnected somehow when taken together as a whole.
Then again, who am I to critique the composition and technical elements? I’m not an expert. My rating just reflects my personal enjoyment and connection with the collection.
I’m still uncertain about the rating, though. I loved some poems, especially in the 1st section entitled ‘Terminal.’ One thing’s for sure, I will definitely read other collections by the poet.
But the thing is, I didn’t connect with many of them. Some poems felt disjointed and I thought some metaphors didn’t make sense, which disrupted my reading flow with a “huh?” The similes and metaphors felt randomly assembled that while I kind of understood the individual portions, they felt disconnected somehow when taken together as a whole.
Then again, who am I to critique the composition and technical elements? I’m not an expert. My rating just reflects my personal enjoyment and connection with the collection.
I’m still uncertain about the rating, though. I loved some poems, especially in the 1st section entitled ‘Terminal.’ One thing’s for sure, I will definitely read other collections by the poet.
“my body follows me around asking
for things. I try to think louder, try
to be brilliant, wildly brilliant.”
dark
tense
medium-paced
Masterful control of space and pace. Phrases ended in a breath.
challenging
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
Loved this - Kaveh Akbar writes beautifully about addiction, and how hard it is just to make it through life each day. The imagery often hovers on the borders of the grotesque, but is so hauntingly sad that it never feels overwhelming and violent.