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Seven
With this collection, Bennett returns to his earlier topic of loss. Loss of
time, opportunity, loved ones, and of life itself. A life reduced to memorial
names or tags on museum exhibits.
Loss includes loneliness on a subway ride, posessions melted in a fire, life
long love turning a slow corner. Keeping an unusual pet solely for company.
There is comic relief, and some pleasant experiences, capturing the small things
that make us human and able to cope and even look forward.
You will meet faces. Maybe your own, disguising motives. Maybe another, full of undiguised
rage in a public place.
Poetry is about experience. Not all of these will be gentle, but you will share
what Bennett has captured for you.
It's all just words until you read them.
time, opportunity, loved ones, and of life itself. A life reduced to memorial
names or tags on museum exhibits.
Loss includes loneliness on a subway ride, posessions melted in a fire, life
long love turning a slow corner. Keeping an unusual pet solely for company.
There is comic relief, and some pleasant experiences, capturing the small things
that make us human and able to cope and even look forward.
You will meet faces. Maybe your own, disguising motives. Maybe another, full of undiguised
rage in a public place.
Poetry is about experience. Not all of these will be gentle, but you will share
what Bennett has captured for you.
It's all just words until you read them.
85 pages, Kindle Edition
Published March 22, 2018
About the author
Jim Bennett
142 books8 followersI am an artist and writer and currently working on a thriller
The Poughkeepsie Mystery
. Among my previous books are
To Catch a Tiger
, a semi-autobiographical, coming-of-age story about growing up in the South during the Civil Rights Era,
Calligraphy For Dummies, Calligraphy for Creative Kids, Secrets of the Wizard.
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Displaying 1 of 1 review
November 23, 2018
You Read it With Your Gut
It is hard to review poetry. It wells up from the Poet’s own emotions; and who is to evaluate those when the resulting words are so visceral.
I have read and very much appreciated Jim Bennett’s six prior books, but his “Seven” – to me – is perhaps the most contemplative - no, evocative.
In “Seven,” the Canadian poet’s first offering, “Lost April,” immediately grabbed a hold of me with its personal message. How did he know?
Bennett’s poems do not rhyme; they don’t gurgle along pleasantly. Instead, they rush you over your own emotional boulders, suck you into the depths of your mind’s whirlpools, then fling you out over the great falls of dread as they tell us that our own “Dates with Stones” are closing in on us.
“Seven” will stay on my nightstand, to be read during those hours when sleep escapes; but in the morning, it makes me want to be kinder, to be more alert, to be more ALIVE.
It is hard to review poetry. It wells up from the Poet’s own emotions; and who is to evaluate those when the resulting words are so visceral.
I have read and very much appreciated Jim Bennett’s six prior books, but his “Seven” – to me – is perhaps the most contemplative - no, evocative.
In “Seven,” the Canadian poet’s first offering, “Lost April,” immediately grabbed a hold of me with its personal message. How did he know?
Bennett’s poems do not rhyme; they don’t gurgle along pleasantly. Instead, they rush you over your own emotional boulders, suck you into the depths of your mind’s whirlpools, then fling you out over the great falls of dread as they tell us that our own “Dates with Stones” are closing in on us.
“Seven” will stay on my nightstand, to be read during those hours when sleep escapes; but in the morning, it makes me want to be kinder, to be more alert, to be more ALIVE.
Displaying 1 of 1 review