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Rare Earth

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"We are taken by our contemporary Virgil, Brad Tice, into the difficult world of true poetry, where images and lines gleam like burnished metal."—Marilyn Kallet

Rare Earth reveals a person in crisis, grappling with faith, identity, sexuality, mortality, and self-worth. Bradford Tice reveals how family can heal and harm.


92 pages, Paperback

First published October 15, 2013

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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
2 reviews
February 27, 2014
Summary:
This collection of poems is basically a memoir of Bradford Tice's life. It touches on the confusion of growing up, going through his parents' divorce, uncertainty of himself, early dating experiences, revealing his homosexuality, friendships, death, and everything in between. The main themes include the acceptance of yourself, others, and also, the acceptance of death.

I found that the collection of poems work well together. This book was easy to read and kept my interest throughout. The writing is very clear. The author bared his soul in the writing of these poems. The poems are so personal and open. They are very honest and from the heart and the honesty is what I appreciated the most about this book. Upon reading, you can get a glimpse into his past, struggles, psyche, and experiences. This collection hits almost every emotion of the human experience. While reading, I felt sad, mad, happy, intrigued, and occasionally, I even blushed on account of some of the racy content. I would consider this book a definite read for anyone with an interest in the lives of others and their deepest thoughts, struggles, and feelings. Like all good poetry, it will serve as an outlet for people going through similar experiences.
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Author 6 books94 followers
February 11, 2014


A few snippets:

My time is the slow shedding of exoskeletons--
a damselfly dropping her kimono of nymph-swaddle (6)

--

She is thinking of the wet hearts
of watermelons, the sutures of bats over the docks. (20)

--

That year, the locusts swarmed. Their slender,

grass-blade bodies crashed at the windows. (25)

--

Winter came,
locusts fell like star-shrapnel (25)

--

The house was condemned and my
father deemed it best to let it burn.
Aflame, it sizzled for hours. The bees,
disturbed by their dances, flew out
of the walls on fire--blazing for
an instant and lessening to cinder. (60)



"Canada Geese on the Lawn of Frasier Meadows Retirement Community": http://issuu.com/davehousley/docs/bar...
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews