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Surrender
These poems open into a new space where ideas, identity, documents and authority are questioned, explored, and exploded. They exist in particular forms of apposition and opposition, often in parts that face each other across the page in dialogue, battle, or antiphony. Roy Miki is a brilliant, articulate poet, whose intermixture of the lyrical with the political, the moment with history, and whose exploration of the formation of identity makes him among the most original and powerful of contemporary poets.
- GenresPoetry
131 pages, Paperback
First published October 16, 2001
9 people want to read
About the author
Roy Miki
28 books7 followersRoy Akira Miki was a Canadian poet, scholar, editor, and activist most known for his social and literary work.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
January 24, 2022
lisbon to coimbra
resin does not resonate
ricochet does not return
rebellion does not make an
easy truce with frenzy
arrested weights
where did that come from?
the science of crowd control
had not yet been invented
singular statue monumentalist
bargain walls corridor archway
i missed you in the past tense
the aqueduct stood still
for centuries
* * *
i was born under a sugar beet leaf. "be leaf me"
memory was already daft. in the acute care ward of my
childhood the breaks were stunning.
* * *
isolation is a commodity. dry goods in the summer heat. the sum total alters the mirror to expose blond curls.
oh, the park, the street, the back lane, the grocery store, the laundry, the diesel clangs in the night air.
later, always later, the deliberation on the wages of sin, thinking it was short for sink, or singular, or sinuous, or fats domino on blue monday since.
* * *
mid initial pun
give me a p
un
strung
the u n
of leafs
falling random
no tation
give the reader
the st un of never
reassemble the text or
the liberty of an endless
riddling so the infinite
turns to fin etude
* * *
prince rupert
i am in love with one sentence
what that sentence is
the bridge, in salt brine,
is a chorus of exhaust
the hilltop, from the vantage of
attack, exuded marsh
the sausage, so steamy and
graspable, were shaped to
resemble blocks of tofu
* * *
the leaves always
shiver in the snapshot
the eyes filled with frames
of bicycle spokes turning
i embalm myself and
undergo authentication
the tapes are turned off
to observe a minute of silence
a mound later dubbed "mountain"
is still the garbage dump
* * *
a poem does not beg for forgiveness. it's not like real life.
not a case of relationships gone awry. its social
innuendoes are not a matter of secrets told in privacy.
once the consideration of intent is or was misplaced.
once it was a misdemeanour to forego the forlorn.
memory is a stranger. a maverick sound that crowds out
noise. the ease of its deployment is dependent on the size
of the ache.
when it drops into a sullied lap.
i hesitate to use the first person in this instance. a binge
of bebop is no ticket to oblivion. the causal routes are
dogged with yelping signatures with nowhere to sign.
the sojourner notwithstanding.
"we" listened at the fork in the road. "i've heard that
before." the clause was held in perpetuity.
* * *
calgary
today the muse of RRSP
announced the decline
in the market supply
of memory chips
citizens are asked to check
in cupboard old trunks
and unused clothing
out of date memory supply
may now be called into
service by heritage
bank your memory is
the watchword in the days ahead
* * *
the exhaustion of a test is
no sign that panic has set in
to be doubly sure is one
winch away from the jeers
the sheer bulk of what passes
as image has me in its grip
it wasn't always so
* * *
resin does not resonate
ricochet does not return
rebellion does not make an
easy truce with frenzy
arrested weights
where did that come from?
the science of crowd control
had not yet been invented
singular statue monumentalist
bargain walls corridor archway
i missed you in the past tense
how dense of me
i should have dipped
the crust in olive oil
before swallowing
the aqueduct stood still
for centuries
- material recovery two, pg. 14
* * *
i was born under a sugar beet leaf. "be leaf me"
memory was already daft. in the acute care ward of my
childhood the breaks were stunning.
- knocks at the door: one, pg. 26
* * *
isolation is a commodity. dry goods in the summer heat. the sum total alters the mirror to expose blond curls.
oh, the park, the street, the back lane, the grocery store, the laundry, the diesel clangs in the night air.
later, always later, the deliberation on the wages of sin, thinking it was short for sink, or singular, or sinuous, or fats domino on blue monday since.
- knocks at the door: four, pg. 32
* * *
mid initial pun
give me a p
un
strung
the u n
of leafs
falling random
no tation
give the reader
the st un of never
reassemble the text or
the liberty of an endless
riddling so the infinite
turns to fin etude
- a mid initial, on bpNichol's gIFTS, pg. 47
* * *
prince rupert
i am in love with one sentence
what that sentence is
the bridge, in salt brine,
is a chorus of exhaust
the hilltop, from the vantage of
attack, exuded marsh
mellows
the sausage, so steamy and
graspable, were shaped to
resemble blocks of tofu
- material recovery five, pg. 53
* * *
the leaves always
shiver in the snapshot
the eyes filled with frames
of bicycle spokes turning
i embalm myself and
undergo authentication
the tapes are turned off
to observe a minute of silence
a mound later dubbed "mountain"
is still the garbage dump
- winnipeg c. 1950, pg. 68
* * *
a poem does not beg for forgiveness. it's not like real life.
not a case of relationships gone awry. its social
innuendoes are not a matter of secrets told in privacy.
once the consideration of intent is or was misplaced.
once it was a misdemeanour to forego the forlorn.
memory is a stranger. a maverick sound that crowds out
noise. the ease of its deployment is dependent on the size
of the ache.
when it drops into a sullied lap.
i hesitate to use the first person in this instance. a binge
of bebop is no ticket to oblivion. the causal routes are
dogged with yelping signatures with nowhere to sign.
the sojourner notwithstanding.
"we" listened at the fork in the road. "i've heard that
before." the clause was held in perpetuity.
- on the sublime, pg. 78
* * *
calgary
today the muse of RRSP
announced the decline
in the market supply
of memory chips
citizens are asked to check
in cupboard old trunks
and unused clothing
out of date memory supply
may now be called into
service by heritage
bank your memory is
the watchword in the days ahead
- material recovery eight, pg. 80
* * *
the exhaustion of a test is
no sign that panic has set in
to be doubly sure is one
winch away from the jeers
the sheer bulk of what passes
as image has me in its grip
it wasn't always so
- anticipation alter, 1, for ashok mathur, pg. 98
* * *
slung across the dubious skyline
the rest is free of assaults
wrestled in exchange of glances
(blow winds blow the sneak preview
the frosted pane on the side of vantage
zero distance hang loose
scavengers line the pockets
if the itinerant fluids deke out
who seek revenge in absentia
all aglow again the glow worms bristle
yeah yeah the canyon yawns too
the brevity of this domicile
induces the smile as idea
resigned in the hedges
at the interval the sieve effect kicks in
all around "us" the flow of capital- over heard, pg. 131
April 16, 2019
This book was different
I didnt really enjoy it as much as I thought
I didnt really enjoy it as much as I thought
December 1, 2014
wordplay was fascinating but ultimately didn't touch me
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews