The title of my second full-length poetry collection, Blatherskite, refers to "a person who talks at great length without making much sense". Each of the 50 poems in this loose-lipped, violently verbose collection are filled with impossibly impossible imagery, juxtapositions, chaos, romance, frenzies, tornados, villains, frilly maidens, ravenous flowers, silk birds, decaying schoolboy cars. In other words, it is an odyssey through the faceted hallways of language that you must read for yourself to absorb, deduce, and receive. Unlike other living poets, I do not use social media to promote my own work, nor do I have a website or even use social media at all. I rely on word of mouth and let my poetry speak for itself. Three of the poems appearing in Blatherskite ("Before the Beginning", "Your Grandfather's Cottage", and "Koi Pond") were nominated for the 2018 Pushcart Prize by both Neologism Poetry Journal and Liquid Imagination. I was also named Neologism's November 2018 Poet of the Month, as well as the first-place winner of the February 2019 Wax Art Weekly Poetry Contest. Currently, Blatherskite is listed for Pre-Order on the publisher's website, with a release date within the next 1-3 months. I am greatly looking forward to seeing my second venture into the world of language and imagery comes to fruition very soon as a follow-up to 2018's Bipolar Lexicon: An Akathisia of Expressed Emotion (Unsolicited Press).
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[God without eve: / watercolour wanderlust / a blizzard stoked with stones BEFORE THE BEGINNING]***
(Clare Songbirds Publishing House, 2019, 64 pages, ebook, copy from the poet and voluntarily reviewed)
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I really didn't get on with this collection of poetry. I thought I would enjoy the collection. I liked the first couple of poems, the cover and the title. I thought it was a win-win situation. Unfortunately, I was wrong. These poems weren't to my taste, long winded and pretentious for the most part. I prefer poems that speak to me and I feel some connection to. The style of these poems meant I felt detached from what the poet was trying to say. Sorry, these weren't for me.
