Whispering Bones

by Drew Hairgrove

A book of poetry and prose on the concepts of love, relationships, happiness and life struggles.

Genres: Poetry

104 pages, Paperback

First published August 5, 2014

Reviews

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I used to be one of those women who valued a marriage proposal as the proudest moment of her life. I was proposed to on the top of a really tall building in Chicago. I used to cut recipes out of magazines while cupcakes were baking in the oven. I used to be one of those women who could be found with curled hair and red lips pursed, delicately wrapped around the arm of man in a bow tie and glass of scotch in hand. I used to be that woman who sat outside at 3am wondering where the excitement went, where her life went. I used to be one of those women who put on high heels and pearls while pretending to be the couple we were never really wanted to be. I used to be one of those women who begged for a man to come back to her. I used to wonder who I would bake for. Who would I wear black lingerie for? Who would tie back my apron while I made dinner? I used to worry that if he wasn’t there, my life would suddenly stop being there too.

He left and for one week I begged. Oh god, I begged. But what was I begging for? I woke up next to this man for years and watched him sleep. I only saw a white picket fence and a golden retriever. As he rested peacefully I saw my life, my adventure, my spirit drained of excitement. I loved him so much that I actually decided I would live this way. I loved him so much that I thought if we weren’t together, love would never find me again. Why was I begging for him back when he set me free? Why did I feel so….empty?

I used to be the woman who waited for adventure to find her. For months after he left I used to be the single woman who stared out windows while looking for a sign to get up and leave. It was right then as I was sitting with wet hair dripping down my back and a towel wrapped around my chest, that I realized I had a choice.

I left. The college degree I had spent three years and twenty thousand dollars on seemed to fit me no better than a pair of shoes four sizes too small. I got a job that I loved, a job that made me excited about life. I started writing things down in a little black notebook. I ate organic food off delicate plates. I tucked myself into a bed with $300 sheets, silk blankets and pink pillows cases with ruffles.

I used to be that woman who begged for love, who waited for a man to tell her she wasn’t broken….but I wasn’t broken. I became one of those women who had no room for a man because her car was full of flowers and pastries. I became one of those women that men don’t know how to love because they just weren’t quite sure where to put their hands, where to kiss. I became one of those women that men tried to capture and hold close…one of those women that slip through their fingers.

You see, I fell in love with life
and the wind whispered,

“Why didn’t you stay? 
Why didn’t you fight?”

I did fight.

I just didn’t fight for him anymore.

I fought for me.

[chris · Rating 3 out of 5]

Overall it had enough poems which I enjoyed to make it worth the read.
It had page numbers in the book, which was great (not all poetry books do, no idea why not). No index or titles to the poems, which I did not like. Indexes and titles (even if they're numbers) help readers refer to poems, especially when they like them. So I had to write down page numbers for the poems I liked, which I find tedious. The less tedious experience you can make for your reader, the better I say.
Out of 76 poems, I liked 12 of them. A lot of ideas were repeated and there were many which had common metaphors that have already been used a lot.
I liked the size of the book. But I think the font size could have been larger. Also no issue with the type of font. Making the first letter of each poem in Italics was nice because it helped discern a new poem. Some of the layout had issues, like different spacing between each sentence, where one poem had one type of spacing and another poem had a different spacing. I'm not sure if that was intentional or not, but I found it distracting to the read. There were some spelling issues, but very few that I caught. After all, even traditionally published books by the big boys have typos in them.
The poet didn't provide any contact information for how readers can keep connected with her and I know she's on Tumblr. So that's an issue I would remedy at the earliest.
Since there were poems I really enjoyed, I'm going to keep this book and not donate it to my local library.