Using long-lined, imaginative leaps to connect the everyday with the miraculous, the intimate with the visionary, Barbara Ras's poems surge across the page like waves crashing on a beach. She crafts the forty-one new poems in this collection with a zany and spacious cunning that reaches from family to community, from what's cherished to what's lost, from culture to nature.
She writes long lines, but all the words are necessary. She says things I wish I had the courage to say, but it's not just honesty; she sees the obvious in the unobvious. And this line: "How many memories can I stand, crime dreams and childhood, ..." My favorite: "...my people come from dirt." The poems are a joy to read.
A stunning collection, from the road-tripping "Clouds," to the pared down "Song," Ras's poems all sing in the best ways possible. Her arc, the movement, the ultra-personal tone. This book is a poetic dance, to be celebrated!
Just dynamite! There's nothing that I can say that would contradict the well-written jacket copy of this book. Brava, Ras. Read this collection-study it!
Barbara Ras's lines are as elegant as ever in this fine collection of poems. Though not as strong as her Bite Every Sorrow, since it is a bit less trim, more disjointed, and relies on too many private meanings. Still, it always seems unfair to compare a poet to herself, when she stands above many of her contemporaries.
This image from this book has always stuck with me:
"...Maybe today you'll find gardenias floating in a blue wood-fired bowl and their scent will bloom into the room like ghostly elephants, bugling softly..."