We are first captured by what the verse discloses; later as we read again, we embark on a journey to discover how that came to be.

Another Song I Know is a reintroduction of verse to the world-weary, anxious working class grassroots of America culture that has long draw away from any hint of qualities such as cadence, or lilt, stress or tempo, rhythm or intonation that provides reading or oral communication with anything close to melodic character. Poet Michaelian, a man not yet sixty of Armenian heritage was raised in the San Joaquin Valley California. Dinuba is an area of rich farmland, grape vineyards and music. In winter the land become stark, bleak, filled with fog and foreboding, in summer the sun beats mercilessly. It is difficult to not be affected by the land, the people and the weather. Michaelian presents less than 100 pages of some of his best versifying. Short, tight, no verbiage for the sake of filling the page or adding more the poems are light, short and kept to the subject. From the pen of a master, the short ode is mesmeric. We are first captured by what the verse discloses; later as we read again, we embark on a journey to discover how that came to be. And that is the wonder of poetry. On the pages of Another Song I Know poet William Michaelian presents words as fine jewels encompassing sixty-four short works that remain our thoughts, and appear to shimmer from the page. William Michaelian has not the droning or the length of Whitman’s works, however, he addresses many of the concerns voiced by Whitman. Poet Michaelian is an original poetic voice, that actually has something to say, actually says it, actually matters. we are a hollow people in need of new poetic voices, voices that will speak honestly and without pretension about these lives we are living. One of his works that I like very much is ‘Wolves.’ What thick coats they have, what eager eyes and tongues. What wild dreams, framed by a rim of naked trees. I give a carefree whistle, call them to the door. One day, perhaps, we as a people will turn away from noise and rushing, and worrying about how much a jug of milk is costing and technology and all of the minutiae that fills our thoughts and actions and prevents anything more than mindless gazing at a little box blaring from across the room, and we will if not actually write something will reach for a work of poetry written by someone else. One day, perhaps we will again turn to poetry for a rudder, an insight into ourselves and the world around us, for an scrutiny of the mundane of life that IS important, is vital and needs to be put into words. One day, perhaps, but not today. I am glad that Poet Michaelian is doing that writing for the rest of us just now. His is a voice that needs to be heard, his is a message that carries joy and hope, poignancy and triumph. He is a real poet who can look at our lives and tell us what it is he is seeing. We are the better for it.