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Us
Shortlisted for the Costa Poetry Award and the T. S. Eliot Prize
'Rich in form and reverent references, Us transports the reader from the hills of Pakistan to the schoolgrounds of Stratford-upon-Avon, from George Herbert to The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.' (Maria Crawford, Financial Times, BOOKS OF THE YEAR)
'Highlights of the year include the Heaney-esque lyricism of British-Indian poet Zaffar Kunial's accomplished debut Us.' (Tristram Fane Saunders, Daily Telegraph, Books of the Year)
'Zaffar Kunial possesses that rare quality of negative capability which Keats first identified in Shakespeare (a guiding spirit in this, Kunial’s first collection); the poems hold us among mysteries and doubts, without pronouncing or attempting to resolve. Their beauty lies in their indecisiveness – their quiet refusal to settle matters or hold to a single view.' (Rebecca Watts, Times Literary Supplement)
'His first full book, which has come together slowly, patiently, over several years... He can do clear-eyed and tender inside a single poem, without any hint of glibness. Fun fact: he used to earn his living writing verse for Hallmark cards.'
(The 20 best poetry books of 2018, The Spinoff, New Zealand)
'Everyone in this book is honoured as complicated and contrary, while the writing of them is always subtle and deep, generous and empathetic.' (Tim Dee, Caught by the River)
'Zaffar Kunial has been called “a guide for modern times”. His first collection Us travels from Pakistan to Stratford-upon-Avon to Orkney, as he explores his own cultural heritage through language. Kunial is interested in how two disparate elements can come together to create something new. He is more formal than many modern poets; he takes tradition seriously. His writing is subtle, thoughtful and precise, his view of the world utterly individual.' (FOLD magazine)
'Zaffar Kunial is a poet whose work thrills me, who makes you return to the origins of things, places, language and people again and again. He's a poet who takes traditions seriously but makes of them something entirely new - a must.' (Jackie Kay)
'Us by Zaffar Kunial abounds with poems which are witty, playful and heart-breaking by turns. Drawn to the place where things don't quite meet, which he describes as "a kind of abysmal underneathness/or usness/under the heights of language", his is a wondrous poetic of loopholes, portals and translations, and of the magic in-between.' (Sinead Morrissey, Chair of the T. S. Eliot Prize judges)
'There's something about the precise, thoughtful, unhurried way in which he interrogates language that marks him out as a unique talent. A real find.' (Roger Cox, Scotsman)
'Rich in form and reverent references, Us transports the reader from the hills of Pakistan to the schoolgrounds of Stratford-upon-Avon, from George Herbert to The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.' (Maria Crawford, Financial Times, BOOKS OF THE YEAR)
'Highlights of the year include the Heaney-esque lyricism of British-Indian poet Zaffar Kunial's accomplished debut Us.' (Tristram Fane Saunders, Daily Telegraph, Books of the Year)
'Zaffar Kunial possesses that rare quality of negative capability which Keats first identified in Shakespeare (a guiding spirit in this, Kunial’s first collection); the poems hold us among mysteries and doubts, without pronouncing or attempting to resolve. Their beauty lies in their indecisiveness – their quiet refusal to settle matters or hold to a single view.' (Rebecca Watts, Times Literary Supplement)
'His first full book, which has come together slowly, patiently, over several years... He can do clear-eyed and tender inside a single poem, without any hint of glibness. Fun fact: he used to earn his living writing verse for Hallmark cards.'
(The 20 best poetry books of 2018, The Spinoff, New Zealand)
'Everyone in this book is honoured as complicated and contrary, while the writing of them is always subtle and deep, generous and empathetic.' (Tim Dee, Caught by the River)
'Zaffar Kunial has been called “a guide for modern times”. His first collection Us travels from Pakistan to Stratford-upon-Avon to Orkney, as he explores his own cultural heritage through language. Kunial is interested in how two disparate elements can come together to create something new. He is more formal than many modern poets; he takes tradition seriously. His writing is subtle, thoughtful and precise, his view of the world utterly individual.' (FOLD magazine)
'Zaffar Kunial is a poet whose work thrills me, who makes you return to the origins of things, places, language and people again and again. He's a poet who takes traditions seriously but makes of them something entirely new - a must.' (Jackie Kay)
'Us by Zaffar Kunial abounds with poems which are witty, playful and heart-breaking by turns. Drawn to the place where things don't quite meet, which he describes as "a kind of abysmal underneathness/or usness/under the heights of language", his is a wondrous poetic of loopholes, portals and translations, and of the magic in-between.' (Sinead Morrissey, Chair of the T. S. Eliot Prize judges)
'There's something about the precise, thoughtful, unhurried way in which he interrogates language that marks him out as a unique talent. A real find.' (Roger Cox, Scotsman)
- GenresPoetry
55 pages, Paperback
Published July 5, 2018
7 people are currently reading
232 people want to read
About the author
Zaffar Kunial
7 books49 followers'Zaffar Kunial’s home country as sketched in ENGLAND’S GREEN is literal and carnal, yet there’s a spiritual place rising from these elegant, unforgettable poems, an invisible realm you’re lured into. Kunial is both wise and wise-assed, and he never wastes your time. I read straight through in a bracing guzzle, then flipped back to start over till I was drunk with it. Buy this luminous book: it rewards study.'
MARY KARR author of The Liar’s Club
'You’ve probably read from England’s Green by Zaffar Kunial without realising it. ‘Foxglove Country’, the opening poem of his second collection, was widely shared after it was published online. Though they prefer the partial shade of a hedgerow or woodland, foxgloves will grow almost anywhere in England. Kunial’s poetry is perhaps even more generous and abundant ... There's a near-perfectness to the book ... Simply brilliant,'
Review 31
'His ability to convey moments of sheer loveliness remains unmatched; his style is simple, declarative, elegant. A guarded sense of the spiritual provides another thread to bind the poems together. Ings, a long poem that braids JL Carr and a speed awareness course into a meditation on mourning, is a brilliant example of this: “There is something / locked-in about grief, but there is something / horribly unlocked about grieving.”'
The Guardian
'Kunial’s gift is to examine language in a clinically precise manner to measure belonging, distance and love.' (John Glenday)
' With an impressive clutch of techniques, Kunial is a fine teller of stories.' (Alison Brackenbury, PN Review)
'Rich in form and reverent references, Us transports the reader from the hills of Pakistan to the schoolgrounds of Stratford-upon-Avon, from George Herbert to The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.' (Maria Crawford, Financial Times, BOOKS OF THE YEAR)
'His first full book, which has come together slowly, patiently, over several years... He can do clear-eyed and tender inside a single poem, without any hint of glibness. Fun fact: he used to earn his living writing verse for Hallmark cards.'
(The 20 best poetry books of 2018, The Spinoff, New Zealand)
'Zaffar Kunial possesses that rare quality of negative capability which Keats first identified in Shakespeare (a guiding spirit in this, Kunial’s first collection); the poems hold us among mysteries and doubts, without pronouncing or attempting to resolve. Their beauty lies in their indecisiveness – their quiet refusal to settle matters or hold to a single view.' (Rebecca Watts, Times Literary Supplement)
'Highlights of the year include the Heaney-esque lyricism of British-Indian poet Zaffar Kunial's accomplished debut Us.' (Tristram Fane Saunders, Daily Telegraph, Books of the Year)
Reviews for 'Six':
'Kunial’s style is a wise vernacular that Auden would have loved . . . Six is a pamphlet to read and re-read; its words are so plain and so well put together that you won’t realise until much later how permanently they’ve marked you, like a grass stain.' (Alex Hayden-Williams, Varsity)
'Zaffar Kunial, King for a Summer of The Oval, the country’s best pace bowler of the human heart.' (John Andrews, Caught By The River)
MARY KARR author of The Liar’s Club
'You’ve probably read from England’s Green by Zaffar Kunial without realising it. ‘Foxglove Country’, the opening poem of his second collection, was widely shared after it was published online. Though they prefer the partial shade of a hedgerow or woodland, foxgloves will grow almost anywhere in England. Kunial’s poetry is perhaps even more generous and abundant ... There's a near-perfectness to the book ... Simply brilliant,'
Review 31
'His ability to convey moments of sheer loveliness remains unmatched; his style is simple, declarative, elegant. A guarded sense of the spiritual provides another thread to bind the poems together. Ings, a long poem that braids JL Carr and a speed awareness course into a meditation on mourning, is a brilliant example of this: “There is something / locked-in about grief, but there is something / horribly unlocked about grieving.”'
The Guardian
'Kunial’s gift is to examine language in a clinically precise manner to measure belonging, distance and love.' (John Glenday)
' With an impressive clutch of techniques, Kunial is a fine teller of stories.' (Alison Brackenbury, PN Review)
'Rich in form and reverent references, Us transports the reader from the hills of Pakistan to the schoolgrounds of Stratford-upon-Avon, from George Herbert to The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.' (Maria Crawford, Financial Times, BOOKS OF THE YEAR)
'His first full book, which has come together slowly, patiently, over several years... He can do clear-eyed and tender inside a single poem, without any hint of glibness. Fun fact: he used to earn his living writing verse for Hallmark cards.'
(The 20 best poetry books of 2018, The Spinoff, New Zealand)
'Zaffar Kunial possesses that rare quality of negative capability which Keats first identified in Shakespeare (a guiding spirit in this, Kunial’s first collection); the poems hold us among mysteries and doubts, without pronouncing or attempting to resolve. Their beauty lies in their indecisiveness – their quiet refusal to settle matters or hold to a single view.' (Rebecca Watts, Times Literary Supplement)
'Highlights of the year include the Heaney-esque lyricism of British-Indian poet Zaffar Kunial's accomplished debut Us.' (Tristram Fane Saunders, Daily Telegraph, Books of the Year)
Reviews for 'Six':
'Kunial’s style is a wise vernacular that Auden would have loved . . . Six is a pamphlet to read and re-read; its words are so plain and so well put together that you won’t realise until much later how permanently they’ve marked you, like a grass stain.' (Alex Hayden-Williams, Varsity)
'Zaffar Kunial, King for a Summer of The Oval, the country’s best pace bowler of the human heart.' (John Andrews, Caught By The River)
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Displaying 1 - 25 of 25 reviews
January 11, 2019
Many of these poems are about split loyalties, a composite identity – Kunial’s father was Kashmiri and his mother English – and what the languages we use say about us. When I saw him introduce his forthcoming collection at the Faber Spring Party last year, he read “Sparkhill,” about a childhood fight in the area of Birmingham where he grew up. Though he had a folder open in front of him, impressively, he recited that long poem completely from memory. He writes about unexpectedly developing a love for literature, and devotes one poem to Jane Austen and another to Shakespeare. My favorites were “Self Portrait as Bottom,” about doing a DNA test (“O I am translated. / The speech of numbers. / Here’s me in them / and them in me. … What could be more prosaic? / I am split. 50% Europe. / 50% Asia.”), and the title poem, a plea for understanding and common ground.
October 5, 2021
I caught Rainglobe as a small poem read by Shanaz Gulzar on her Yorkshire Walk when it was repeated on BBC4 back in March 2021, and on the strength of that one poem, I bought this little collection. There is a delightful conciseness about these poems, and some will need reading several times, each reading uncovering a new layer of meaning. Perhaps that’s how poetry should be: like a mysterious lover who reveals more of themselves at each meeting.
Some of the poems were beyond me; that’s possibly my lack of experience, or it might be down to miscommunication by the writer, or a clash of lexicons… who knows. Some though are wonderful, dancing on the interplay of Urdu and English (like “Q”, “Jane Austen: selected letters”, “Stamping grounds (earlier)”) and the complexity of family relationships (“Stamping grounds (later)”, “Tall Kahani” and “Ys”). There is much here to ponder and reflect upon, to meditate on the sense of self and how the different parts and ancestries knit together to form a unified whole. References to Donne, Herbert, Dickens, Rumi, Ishiguro, Rushdie, Austen show that a simple line can start a poetic fire, at least that’s my take (and happy to be wrong!).
Started in March, put down because of the GCSEs and A level “exams” which were totally school based because ‘Covid’ and picked up in the last days of September when I was recovering from Covid (a theme perhaps of this year) this helped me get back into reading books rather than binge watching Battlestar Galactica, and pushed me into writing a poem and a short story. For this, for the artistic inspiration, and for the enlivening of the mind it created, I am grateful.
Some of the poems were beyond me; that’s possibly my lack of experience, or it might be down to miscommunication by the writer, or a clash of lexicons… who knows. Some though are wonderful, dancing on the interplay of Urdu and English (like “Q”, “Jane Austen: selected letters”, “Stamping grounds (earlier)”) and the complexity of family relationships (“Stamping grounds (later)”, “Tall Kahani” and “Ys”). There is much here to ponder and reflect upon, to meditate on the sense of self and how the different parts and ancestries knit together to form a unified whole. References to Donne, Herbert, Dickens, Rumi, Ishiguro, Rushdie, Austen show that a simple line can start a poetic fire, at least that’s my take (and happy to be wrong!).
Started in March, put down because of the GCSEs and A level “exams” which were totally school based because ‘Covid’ and picked up in the last days of September when I was recovering from Covid (a theme perhaps of this year) this helped me get back into reading books rather than binge watching Battlestar Galactica, and pushed me into writing a poem and a short story. For this, for the artistic inspiration, and for the enlivening of the mind it created, I am grateful.
December 3, 2018
Kunial too is a member of the subcontinental diaspora (in the UK in this case), and like Fatimah Asghar, the partition casts a shadow over his identity and his verse. However, he writes more in the tradition of Hughes, Auden and Heaney than in Asghar's vernacular, stage honed idiom. Too, his concerns are sometimes more abstract, his verses more abstruse. The poems here feel a little ill assorted in that some seem heartfelt and vital and others come across more as meditative, intellectual asides. But for that unevenness in tone, this is a very good collection.
Read
August 6, 2025I was blown away by The Word when it was featured in Padraig O Tuama's Poetry Unbound Podcast. So well caught that uncomfortable midway between love and embarrassment, between generation gap and eternal bond. This collection does not disappoint. It is a work of living between cultures, sometimes enjoying the richness of siversity, sometimes at home nowhere. A deep learning rooted, beautiful!
Prayer:
First heard words, delivered to this right ear
Allah hu Akbar – God is great – by my father
in the Queen Elizabeth maternity ward.
God’s breath in man returning to his birth
says Herbert, is prayer.
Poppy - a historical reflection on the flower and the war it represents
Hul and Gil – ‘joy flower’ – a cuneiform
cocktail, our earliest remedy …
(...)
No, this is not enough
You need more? … Who crops up, fringing the banks of Lethe
after Troy; who bridges forgetfulness and memory,
life and death, relief and pain …
Who was loved by Coleridge
W*nd
Aeolus
a god with all
vowels but one,
knotted the winds in an ox skin.
All swirling directions a word could go.
But not homeward. West, west
On top of the MDF wardrobe near the landing fittingly high from the ground, was our family’s Quran, wrapped in cloth. Gilt-edged, wide enough to house three scripts. Around the time I’d be glued to films like The Lion, the Witch … I’d place a chair beneath, take down the shrouded weight, undo the black sleeve, open a page and read a corridor of the English that slept in themargins. I wasn’t sure why I did this, or what I’d fear I might miss, or if I was sitting the right way, or how to feel true to the words. I’d lift them back, rewrapped, onto the wardrobe. Distantly, I’ve long looked up to books. The distance they cover. Picture me, delayed, walking through a bookshop – say this one – forgetting what I first came in for, or if I ever really knew
And farther again
I put a ‘Three Hares’ tile into your hand –
a gift that finds
a void – like the gaps within the mould. But its old
circular theme, set inside a square,
gets me thinking of Escher
Luck
Not even this
heavy-hearted padlock –
the shackled U as bright as changed luck –
chucked, maybe dropped
among leaves and crisp packets in the road;
today’s silver-lined present
fished up from the kerb,
a catch in its throat.
Could I behold those hands which span the poles …
– JOHN DONNE, ‘Good Friday, 1613, Riding Westward’
Empty Words
Boc. Boc, says my son.
A bark up the right tree … ‘Book’/
‘beech’ were once bound
One
The Long Causeway
I’m Jack Frost, he says. And behind
that cold stick he’d picked up in the woods – like a new word
in the mirror, I see the brushstroke of a black road, tapered
to a point backwards – then before it, I see flashed
what was a ‘sword’; that twig he’d seen to the hilt as gold
and now is differently sharp – a wand, delicate and moon-tipped:
conducting the snow’s dance, beyond the stick’s flourished
end, on a half-hidden Long Causeway.
I’m slowing now, to a stop.
Snow-wand, sword, branch; whatever
it is – the wave of it, or the first particle at its point –
paints all that is behind us with all that lay ahead.
Prayer:
First heard words, delivered to this right ear
Allah hu Akbar – God is great – by my father
in the Queen Elizabeth maternity ward.
God’s breath in man returning to his birth
says Herbert, is prayer.
Poppy - a historical reflection on the flower and the war it represents
Hul and Gil – ‘joy flower’ – a cuneiform
cocktail, our earliest remedy …
(...)
No, this is not enough
You need more? … Who crops up, fringing the banks of Lethe
after Troy; who bridges forgetfulness and memory,
life and death, relief and pain …
Who was loved by Coleridge
W*nd
Aeolus
a god with all
vowels but one,
knotted the winds in an ox skin.
All swirling directions a word could go.
But not homeward. West, west
On top of the MDF wardrobe near the landing fittingly high from the ground, was our family’s Quran, wrapped in cloth. Gilt-edged, wide enough to house three scripts. Around the time I’d be glued to films like The Lion, the Witch … I’d place a chair beneath, take down the shrouded weight, undo the black sleeve, open a page and read a corridor of the English that slept in themargins. I wasn’t sure why I did this, or what I’d fear I might miss, or if I was sitting the right way, or how to feel true to the words. I’d lift them back, rewrapped, onto the wardrobe. Distantly, I’ve long looked up to books. The distance they cover. Picture me, delayed, walking through a bookshop – say this one – forgetting what I first came in for, or if I ever really knew
And farther again
I put a ‘Three Hares’ tile into your hand –
a gift that finds
a void – like the gaps within the mould. But its old
circular theme, set inside a square,
gets me thinking of Escher
Luck
Not even this
heavy-hearted padlock –
the shackled U as bright as changed luck –
chucked, maybe dropped
among leaves and crisp packets in the road;
today’s silver-lined present
fished up from the kerb,
a catch in its throat.
Could I behold those hands which span the poles …
– JOHN DONNE, ‘Good Friday, 1613, Riding Westward’
Empty Words
Boc. Boc, says my son.
A bark up the right tree … ‘Book’/
‘beech’ were once bound
One
The Long Causeway
I’m Jack Frost, he says. And behind
that cold stick he’d picked up in the woods – like a new word
in the mirror, I see the brushstroke of a black road, tapered
to a point backwards – then before it, I see flashed
what was a ‘sword’; that twig he’d seen to the hilt as gold
and now is differently sharp – a wand, delicate and moon-tipped:
conducting the snow’s dance, beyond the stick’s flourished
end, on a half-hidden Long Causeway.
I’m slowing now, to a stop.
Snow-wand, sword, branch; whatever
it is – the wave of it, or the first particle at its point –
paints all that is behind us with all that lay ahead.
March 4, 2022
Whenever I read a (decent) poetry collection, I think something along the following lines: If I'm ever on Desert Island Discs, surely the choice of book would simply be which/whose collection shall I take? I say this because every good collection leaves me feeling like I could spend years in it and still be discovering new treasures.
This is certainly the case with Us. Zaffar Kunial is one of my favourite poets around at the moment, and this is a beautiful, fun, and moving collection. I have no direct connections to the West Midlands (much less Kashmir, or Orkney), and do not know the area well, but one of the wonders of this writing is that it speaks through that. The atmosphere of place, family and memories is deliciously thick, but in no way exclusive. It invites me in to breathe, and be nourished.
The blurb on the inside cover describes Zaffar Kunial as a 'poet and guide'. I see what they're getting at, and the idea has a certain appeal, but I feel like 'host' would be a better word. His hospitality is generous, and open. My advice is, to misquote George Herbert (who makes a welcome appearance), "sit, and eat."
This is certainly the case with Us. Zaffar Kunial is one of my favourite poets around at the moment, and this is a beautiful, fun, and moving collection. I have no direct connections to the West Midlands (much less Kashmir, or Orkney), and do not know the area well, but one of the wonders of this writing is that it speaks through that. The atmosphere of place, family and memories is deliciously thick, but in no way exclusive. It invites me in to breathe, and be nourished.
The blurb on the inside cover describes Zaffar Kunial as a 'poet and guide'. I see what they're getting at, and the idea has a certain appeal, but I feel like 'host' would be a better word. His hospitality is generous, and open. My advice is, to misquote George Herbert (who makes a welcome appearance), "sit, and eat."
January 25, 2022
Strong personal voice. A questioning of the significance to his mixed race; the characters; the richness and enigmas to be enjoyed when more than one language informs and facilitates communication, expression, research. And all presented with sadness and joy bedded more deeply than knee-jerk resentment, or easy racist cliché, in a way that took me more objectively to a considering of the issues.
A rewarding anthology with many great poems and several superb. "Fielder" had me from the off.
A rewarding anthology with many great poems and several superb. "Fielder" had me from the off.
October 18, 2019
Blending different cultures doesn’t always work it all begins to feel a little bland. Sometimes you need that juxtaposition between different origins, things don’t sit nicely together, that conflict between outlooks is often the most fruitful for ideas. So it is with this collection from Zaffar Kunial. He can draw on influences from Kashmir, where his father was born, and the Midlands where his mother is from as well as a subtle nuance that his wider family from Orkney have given him.
In this tilted
Storm-knocked world
This drop of earth
That holds the lift
It means that the poems traverse place effortlessly. One moment we join him on the sub-continent standing outside his father's house, another moment next to a grave. The pace and length of the poems change for each one, adding interest and acting as a prism to his varied family backgrounds. I liked this a lot and I can't really say why other than the multicultural elements work together well with his prose. I was fortunate to win this along with the others shortlisted for the Costa Poetry prize and I must say that the book itself is a thing of beauty, such simple layout for all the Faber poetry books with a cover that is so tactile.
Three Favourite poems
Rainglobe
Ys
Still
In this tilted
Storm-knocked world
This drop of earth
That holds the lift
It means that the poems traverse place effortlessly. One moment we join him on the sub-continent standing outside his father's house, another moment next to a grave. The pace and length of the poems change for each one, adding interest and acting as a prism to his varied family backgrounds. I liked this a lot and I can't really say why other than the multicultural elements work together well with his prose. I was fortunate to win this along with the others shortlisted for the Costa Poetry prize and I must say that the book itself is a thing of beauty, such simple layout for all the Faber poetry books with a cover that is so tactile.
Three Favourite poems
Rainglobe
Ys
Still
October 6, 2019
Zaffar Kunial’s debut collection ‘Us’ is an exploration of identity, family and place.
Kunial draws on his family history and the places they have lived to explore his own identify and place in the world. He looks to his father’s birthplace Kashmir and move to England where he met his mother, then traces her family in the midlands, his grandfather Stanley and ancestors from Orkney.
This collection looks both backwards to the past and forward to the future. In the poem Long Causeway Kunial drives uphill in a hire car with his son who sits in a car seat facing backwards - together they trace what lies behind them and looks to what comes ahead.
Kunial investigates language, playing with Urdu and words from his childhood. This is done with humour in the poem ‘Sparkhill’ about an fight he found himself in - the schoolchildren gathered on a slope chanting “Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight.” and how he reaches for those letters on his keyboard.
At the beginning of the book Kunial quotes the poet Khalil Gibran “Half of what I say is meaningless; but I say it so that the other half may reach you.” Language, especially poetry, can be hard to understand, Kunial is reaching out to us in the hope we can find meaning in some of what he says. It’s an incredibly powerful collection which becomes richer on re-reading.
Kunial draws on his family history and the places they have lived to explore his own identify and place in the world. He looks to his father’s birthplace Kashmir and move to England where he met his mother, then traces her family in the midlands, his grandfather Stanley and ancestors from Orkney.
This collection looks both backwards to the past and forward to the future. In the poem Long Causeway Kunial drives uphill in a hire car with his son who sits in a car seat facing backwards - together they trace what lies behind them and looks to what comes ahead.
Kunial investigates language, playing with Urdu and words from his childhood. This is done with humour in the poem ‘Sparkhill’ about an fight he found himself in - the schoolchildren gathered on a slope chanting “Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight.” and how he reaches for those letters on his keyboard.
At the beginning of the book Kunial quotes the poet Khalil Gibran “Half of what I say is meaningless; but I say it so that the other half may reach you.” Language, especially poetry, can be hard to understand, Kunial is reaching out to us in the hope we can find meaning in some of what he says. It’s an incredibly powerful collection which becomes richer on re-reading.
January 22, 2025
“The refractions / will go on, past my stay; I’m only here / for one. [...] Exit this light that has taken me in.” Zaffar Kunial, in his 2018 collection Us, is constantly forging a path of light through the dark spaces of thought + recollection, “the last link to living memory [...] the countless millions // of mouthless dead. There in the underworld. The fallen, heavy / head. The deaths we live with. Enough said. Remember? / This is you. Wake up. You’re summoned. / No, this is not enough.” From distant history to personal geography, Kunial is unerringly perceptive of the struggle of finding and keeping one’s place in this strange and blazing world.
May 3, 2020
This is a good debut collection but I felt slightly disappointed. It is shorter than your standard collection of 70 to 80 pages with 55 pages. The subject is interesting and touching, Kunial uses words and language to explore identity, and many of the poems capture the effects of feeling lost or trapped between two worlds. But I felt at times the poems were overly ambiguous, the language didn't resonate with me and I didn't feel the imagery was doing enough. Though some of the poems did work for me, such as 'The Word,' 'Hill Speak,' 'Sparkhill, and 'A Drink at the Door.'
June 9, 2024
When our incumbent laureate hands the title to someone new, I believe Kunial should be considered.
On the surface, his work is fluid. When you dissect it, so much meaning is mined from the words crafted in these poems. The weight of human histories are perfectly tied into select personal experiences.
Zaffar Kunial has a modern voice that feels effortless and timeless. I cannot recommend his writing enough.
Common themes: Language, Heritage, Youth, War
Favourite poems: Prayer, Poppy, Sparkhill, I, Just A Minute, Stamping Grounds (Later), A Drink At The Door, Ys
On the surface, his work is fluid. When you dissect it, so much meaning is mined from the words crafted in these poems. The weight of human histories are perfectly tied into select personal experiences.
Zaffar Kunial has a modern voice that feels effortless and timeless. I cannot recommend his writing enough.
Common themes: Language, Heritage, Youth, War
Favourite poems: Prayer, Poppy, Sparkhill, I, Just A Minute, Stamping Grounds (Later), A Drink At The Door, Ys
January 2, 2019
A poet with a keen eye for how the everyday impinges on politics and world history...and vice versa. Personal history is part of national history. Understanding this interaction is key to understanding the narratives that run through one's own self understanding.
Demystifying British Muslim identity too - the same hurts and longings, caught in a different language and religious register.
Demystifying British Muslim identity too - the same hurts and longings, caught in a different language and religious register.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 18, 2023
The most perfect of books: experience? yes! experiment? yes! entertainment? yes! conscious about itself? smartly so! I love this collection because of so much — it comes to me as something between (and to and from) the south-east of Asia and the UK, and it tackles identity, understanding and so much more in the most perfect manner.
October 15, 2022
I found this to be quite a mixed collection. The poem that shares the title of the collection was fantastic. Having read some of Kunial’s latest work I was expecting more I think. The power of words is clear throughout though.
January 30, 2025
*Unfortunately, I didn't like this one as much as I'd hoped I would, following on from ENGLAND'S GREEN. That's not to
*Say there weren't poems in here that didn't stand out for me. I liked those individual poems, but not the collection as a whole.
*Say there weren't poems in here that didn't stand out for me. I liked those individual poems, but not the collection as a whole.
March 11, 2019
A really moving and beautifully written collection on what it means to write your own identity. Kunial's writing is really wonderful and this is a collection I'd love to come back to.
May 13, 2019
Particularly love "Sparkhill".
A writer of grace and talent, spanning oceans and cultures, with a keen sense of history -- both his own and that of nations.
A writer of grace and talent, spanning oceans and cultures, with a keen sense of history -- both his own and that of nations.
November 11, 2021
I really enjoyed this, I can't wait to read more of Kunial's work in the future
March 3, 2024
i really enjoyed this collection, the location and natural elements of the poems were particularly interesting to me.
June 7, 2024
Tall Kahani has my heart, but all of them were lovely and poignant.
December 9, 2024
any book that makes me think deeply about languages is a good poem. this book had several poems like that.
May 2, 2025
wonderful. probably would have liked it more if i hadn't just written a really bad essay about his other one.
July 1, 2025
Not my usual style of poetry I read but this was very insightful to other lives and overall a very well constructed poetry book.
November 27, 2018
Took me three goes & still felt like I needed York Notes. Wish the elusiveness of poetry sometimes didn't make me feel so dumb.
-- but it does hold a lovely feeling of searching for the right word & unpicking of his family's history
-- but it does hold a lovely feeling of searching for the right word & unpicking of his family's history
January 7, 2023
Having read and enjoyed Englands Green I tracked back to this, Kunials' extraordinary debut volume of poems. This collection covers much ground but I was fascinated by the repetitions of theme, often covering his parents; his heritage and language but also alluding to the outskirts and borderlands of locale perhaps as a metaphor for his identity or parts of his life- hence doorways; cricket boundaries; curb sides all take on a distinct locale inside his head at least- then there is the significance of family names, the light in a pub as he reads a kindle and references to his mother and father. Poems that stood out in a very strong volume included the first, Fielder; You; Self portrait as Bottom and A drink at the door. For some poems I felt I was missing context but all managed a frisson of enjoyment whilst still satisfying that intellectual nudge that poetry with all their metaphors; allusions and references inevitably provide. What's also evident is the skill of this poet and the focus on language, along with the understandable personal and autobiographical family referenced material, in part as a comment on belonging; nationalism and identity- something he follows up and develops in his most recent volume Englands Green. A poet to watch and follow with the comfort that his output bears and deserves re-reading in all its welcome complexity and elegiac qualities. Us, ......indeed.
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