An open journal of mixed and complicated emotions, Ghost Light is a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is art. Written entirely during quarantine in 2020, Kate I. Foley’s second collection of poetry is angry, joyful, wistful, and whimsical. The ghost light burns to keep the demons at bay, to watch over the artists and dreamers and remind us all that we will rebuild and return and fill the air with music once again.
Kate Isabel Foley is a novelist and playwright who writes about women and bisexuals (especially bisexual women) in all their various, wondrous, magical forms. She’s also an actress, daydreamer, shameless neurodivergent, and overuser of tape. She is the author of GHOST LIGHT and INSTRUCTIONS FOR FLIGHT as well as a contributor to the FAUXPOCALYPSE anthology and the book THE AUDACITY TO BE A WRITER. Aside from books, Kate is also a big fan of dogs, the color yellow, and coffee in every variety. You can follow her on Instagram and X at @kateifoley.
Ghost Light is a poetry collection split into four sections: Powerful Women, In Love, Written in Quarantine, and Slowing Down.
Powerful Women is about, well, powerful women. There's a poem that draws from fairytales and another that tells a story of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. My favourite of the Powerful Women poems though is A Visit. The personification of love just seems so all-encompassing and comforting in her softness.
If I had to describe the In Love poems in a word: domestic. Two of the five use hot, comforting drinks as a central image. A third is a snapshot of a couple waking up in each other's arms on a lazy morning. My favourite is Blue Sky - I just love the way the lines run on.
The Written in Quarantine poems focus on life in the global pandemic. I'm absolutely done with war as a metaphor for the pandemic, but This is War still really drew me in. The eponymous poem Ghost Light is also in this section and it depicts a theatre abandoned during the global health crisis. It ends on a hopeful note - the idea that the narrator will eventually return. We all need a little hope right now.
Addiction, the first poem in Slowing Down, broke into my house and attacked me. It likens the insatiable need to be productive to a drug addiction and, yeah, I'm guilty. The final poem, What Will I Leave Behind? is probably the darkest of the lot, tackling death and legacy. The imagery used is gloriously morbid.