Poetry that attempts to translate life into art. My goal is to make the reader see what I see, breathe my air, get transported to other worlds, surprise, delight and enlighten you so that, in the end, you may re-experience the delicate mixture of emotions that defines what it means to be human.
Narrative verse has found a new voice, a storyteller of verve and brio, recasting the lapidary virtues of the short story into musical lines, new American rhythms and inflections, Adam Piette, Professor of Modern Literature, University of Sheffield.
Excerpt
My Grandpa was an angry sixty-five with a fixed stare in a patch of time captured by Kodak.
Her flexed his foot on a metal tread all his adult life
sewing stitches far from the land of milk and honey
he'd imagined on the crossing,
His skittish wife, Fanny, peered out the window while Harry stared down the track at Suffolk Downs
Or across a bed of green felt at an impossible shot
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.
