Friday, September 23, 2011

Another review, this time of Elias Van Son's 'Little Feather'




Last week I got a nice little present in the mail. One copy of Little Feather, written by Elias Van Son. I liked it as soon as I opened it up (Elias wrote me a nice note). Oh yeah also I like the poems lol.

Before I get into the review, I would just like to make mention of Elias’ name… The Son… as in… Son GOKU? 

Sorry but the name is cool.

Anyways, Little Feather is a rather hefty collection of poems. Around 125 pages in length, the book is split into two parts: ‘singing’, and ‘seeking’. As the summary states, “It is a farewell to boyhood and the makings of a man”. So, as children party and live according to the senses, adults look for a deeper meaning behind life. A pretty cool concept and it’s reflected pretty well in Elias’ pieces.

Expanding a little bit on this idea, as I had talked to Neon and Jacob before putting out a review (to make sure I even knew what I was talking about) I did the same to Elias, and he mentioned a couple things. He said that the poems reflect a childish point in his life, and that they were selfish but well-meaning. I find that perfect. This book is practically a log of that process of transformation. 
The poems range from psychedelic and fantastic to simple and wise. However, Elias consistently stitches his words like a true poet. I am not sure what his background is, but he appears competently disciplined, and well aware of the words he chooses, and is really good at creating cool images. His pieces are well crafted, and poetic. Poetic poems. I can’t really think of a better way to describe it. You ever like read a novel, or listen to some song lyrics, and they’re like poetic because of the depth, décor, and imagery associated with them? That’s like Elias work. If you like put it to song, somebody a little high would probably be like, “no listen dude it’s like poetry”. 

My favorite piece in ‘singing’ is found early on. ‘6 12 08 1200 AM’ (under the stars in the table of contents). I pretty much like any reference towards gazing at the night sky, and this short piece is pretty much like one.  


under the stars
on the hood of my car
eyes endlessly sway in
the hammock of heaven


Many other pieces in ‘singing’ are full of imagery, and nature and setting. But a lot of them are cryptic, and vague. I’m not complaining though. Elias said a lot of these poems were selfish. A lot of these pieces must come from personal experiences. ‘Singing’, to me, seemed like a personal song in a foreign language. Beautiful, even if you don’t understand all the words. You can still pick up on key things, and feel some of the vibrant struggles and experiences from this period of Elias’ life.

What really drew me in was the second half of Little Feather. Where I liked a lot of the feel for ‘singing’, I liked a lot of the meaning in ‘seeking’.  My favorite piece? Damn. If I had to pick, do let the firefly. If you’ve read any of my other stuff on this blog, you probably figured I like bugs. LOL. But that’s not just it for this poem.  For me, I felt this was a perfect piece in contrasting the dynamic and sometimes uncontrollable (at least emotionally) nature of youth versus the contemplative and restrained adult.  


                                                      do                                                                           do not
                                                      let the firefly                                              clench a neon
                                                      read your fortune                                         fist in anger



Pretty cool.

Granted, a lot of this is my own interpretation. I dunno if that’s what Elias was talking about when he wrote these poems. Vivid and vague. That’s how I would describe the overall feeling I got from Little Feather. If those two words appeal to you, then I recommend giving some of his poetry a go. 

For anyone interested, here's a link to a free pdf. Please check it out. It really is an awesome read.
http://www.mediafire.com/?yexzwwniizn

Friday, September 9, 2011

Read ‘Em and Weep... Or Not. But Read These Books!

I’m doing my very first book review. Well, I’m doing two actually. Don’t know why I’ve never done a review for pretty much anything before (I probably just don’t trust my own taste). But I keep coming across all these people’s chapbooks, and mostly find out about them from reviews. So to help promote my two good poet buds, I decided to speak about what I feel regarding their shit.

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Let’s talk nEonsense. Fuck yeah nEonsense. This was a ridiculously cool book. Why? To start, originality, the creativity, the structure and colors. Presentation wise, this book is rad. Flip through a poetry section somewhere, and you won’t find a book like this. It looks like it belongs in a craft section or art section or some shit like that. 

You feel adventurous? Like taking a risk? Like getting down and glittery? Hold one of these books.
Why am I emphasizing the physical aspect instead of what’s written? Because nEonsense is very physical; it’s an in-your-face book that takes poetry to a whole new level. It’s beyond literature, beyond poetry, beyond words; it’s a straight up piece of art that is both wonderful to read and to look at. 

Let me explain that. Neon Glittery’s writings always force me to read not just each word, but each character carefully. Sometimes it comes across as coded, and alien (and that might just be me, I ain’t too bright), but I feel that’s awesome. Sometimes emotions, experiences, shit like that is coded, and is alien. They can be indescribable, and this is that beyond thing I’m talking about. The structure of her words and the characters themselves are very visual, and in order to take anything from the reading careful attention is required. You have to look both at and beyond the words.

My favorite overall piece is sub rosa. Towards the second half, Neon emphasizes spacing between the letters of certain words, like:

a       c        r          o             s                    s

And:

d

o

w

n

It drew me in, made me grin, like “fuck that’s cool”. Gave me the felling like I was being dragged across, and down. 

Most of her pieces are unique, other-worldly, and seem to focus on embracing this strangeness. Strewn in are bits that seem to hint towards a sort of nostalgia, and recollection of certain experiences and memories.  Some are written clearly, and then some seem to set ablaze in neon fashion, like a blast of emotion occurred while writing. 

If you enjoy the unique, read nEonsense. If you like challenging pieces, read nEonsense. If you are neonsensical, then nEonsense will make sense. 

if allergic to glitter, handle with care

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I also had the fortune to read Jacob Steinberg’s new chapbook, This isn’t about Jon Ross, it’s about art. This is another cool work. In it, over a series of poems, Jacob deals with an unrequited crush, and eventually moves on. 

The language is simple, but conveys some universal shit. Like getting over people, dealing with rejection and disappointment, and ultimately creating something out of it. Sort of like a narrative, we witness Jacob worrying a bit over missed texts, until this sort of neglect becomes longer, and soon he is obsessing over Ross, until eventually he has to move on. I like that. Because it’s honest. The language is honest, and the emotions are honest. This isn’t a book that’s going to blow your mind with new and deep shit. It’s a book that you’re going to relate to, and understand what Jacob’s feeling, and witness what can be gained out of loss (which I feel, in Jacob’s case, is this book; hence the title).

 I feel rejection isn’t easy for anyone, and we all tend to obsess over it, even if we hide it. I’m glad this book conveys that. Especially with the internet, people are more and more obsessed with who’s looking at whom, ya know? Whenever Jacob mentions checking his trackers, I know I’ve done that. Still do. We all do. And most of the time, we’re checking up to see if ex’s, crushes, people we want to be paying attention to us, are. This sort of stuff really presents what it’s like to be of this generation and habits we’ve formed through social networking shit. 

My favorite poem has to be “Does Dropping Falafel Balls Into Scorching Hot Oil Count As Disintegrating All My Feelings For You?” It’s one of the last pieces, and if Jon Ross is a type of narrative, then this is the climax. Jacob imagines that every falafel ball he drops into the fryer is a word texted to him from Ross, signifying the process of letting go of the relationships that we hold onto after they are gone. It’s a cool analogy, and little parts of it made me smile. 

Side note: Some of these poems were originally Spanish, and translated over. I dunno if that takes away anything, but Jacob himself translated them so I am assuming he conveyed the same sort of emotion in English from Spanish. 

Just broke up with somebody? Get Jon Ross. You haven’t? Well, you probably will so get this book. Anyone that has wrestled with the same things as Jacob should give Jon Ross a chance. 

 i'm risking my manliness here, but for real the size of this book was cute

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Fill My Veins Like a Haiku Twinkie








My girlfriend recently gave me a piece of jewelry, a pin, shaped like a ladybug. I acted like it was no big deal, but really it was a struggle to keep myself from smiling wide. 

See, in the Reprobus Mythos, ladybugs are an important symbol. Luck, of course. Luck they give freely, because according to legend Reprobus saved one from the snare of a spider’s web, something he wouldn’t normally do (Law of Nature dudes; law of club and fang). Pleading for her life, the ladybug managed to bribe Reprobus into saving her, promising that Reprobus would have an endless blue sky of luck rise around him, and that ladybugs would always be secretly watching over him. 


They do, too. Even in the dead of winter, it is pretty common to come across a ladybug in my room (honestly I don’t know how). So I’ve always liked them. I put the pin on my mala in my car. Not sure if that’s like bad or something. But I like it.


I think bugs are cool in general. Fireflies, OMG! I wrote a haiku once about fireflies. IMO the most haiku of all haiku I’ve written. Every time I read a haiku that is SO damn close to being perfect then the write must have had what I consider a haiku experience. Something so damn vivid that there really is no way to capture the emotion behind it. For me this is what that experience was like.


Before I was driving, I used to walk the 4 miles to where my buds hang out. Cedar Lake is a fairly quiet, small and somewhat rural area, so there are decent amounts of woods to explore. One of these areas was cut on the edges by a length of train tracks. So my walk would lead me these tracks, and I’d climb on them and take them along the edges of the trees until I came directly behind where everyone was. 


It’s normally a scary walk at night. On one side, you have a dark patch of wilderness, full of sounds and shadows. On the other side you had a cement factory, strewn with jagged and intimating pieces of crag and the like, silent and dead.  Both sides of the tracks looked like areas from a horror story.


Still, the tracks took about 20 minutes off my walk so I took them. Usually hurriedly. Usually while blaring my IPod and jumping at every shrub or shadow. On my return trips, there was this one piece of bush that I always mistook for a figure and would send my heart racing LOL.


I’ve got a lot of stories about this stretch. But the most memorable, isn’t so much a story as it is a scene. The haiku experience I’ve mentioned.


Beautiful. Breathtaking. Left me speechless, practically unconscious. Whereas it’s fairly common to see fireflies in the summer, and bunches of them near the woods, the amount that were out that night was immeasurable. Like snow, like rain, bright flashes surround the entire woods, the factory, and the tracks. When I tried to describe it to my friends later that night, it felt like I was a God or something, some huge being swimming in the stars. I don’t know if it was like a baby boom thing, or if it was darker than normal so the flashes seemed brighter, but it was awesome. Take a picture of nighttime woods off Google and fucking shake gold glitter over it. Seriously, I can’t stress how many there were.


I say it was a haiku experience because I really basked in it. Lost track of everything. My rushed and terrifying stroll has now leisurely and peaceful. I zoned out, took everything in around me, felt great, and before I knew it was out of the area. Not once was I scared.


I posted the haiku on allwritethen. Here is the original:

Stars by Reprobus
Pitch black summer night-
fireflies light the train tracks
that I saunter on

I wish I could incorporate the ethereal feeling I got. I am going to try to for the Dead and the Dying. I am writing a response to this piece as well.
In Sauk Village, right of the Trail, they have been doing road work for like 4 months now. It’s a pain in the ass because the lanes are cut down to one on both sides, and the rest are covered in bright orange barrel things, the ones with the flashing lights on them. Construction doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. Instead it seems like the single lanes are becoming thinner and thinner, and more barrels are being added.
On one of my late night drives, I was on the Trail with the street empty, and started thinking how in a way the emergency lights on the barrels reminded me of the fireflies in the woods. So the Dead and the Dying is going to have a piece reflecting this and what I felt. Here it is, unedited as of now:

Ghetto Fireflies by Reprobus

If I ever did experience a haiku
It happened on the tracks,
Right before Parish,
That run along the thickness of the woods
Where I found myself walking
Beyond the earth and among the stars
Like a million fireflies
Like that fucking shitty song
But no romance involved
Only myself and the bugs
It was the only time
I’ve ever walked that path late
And not been at all nervous

For the last month
Sauk village has been doing roadwork
Expanding the trail outside of Dyer
And each day the flashing cones
Multiply
In the night, they become
A bleak version of that experience
As if to say
This is your future
The fireflies are gone
The only lights that scare away the beasts
Are dead and not at all watching over you


LOL the title. Definitely needs work though. But I like the idea of it so far. Anyways, that’s it. Peace.