|
|
|  | | New York; a haibun journey
Marc Awodey's "NEW YORK a haibun journey" has been described as "a poetic voyage into a harrowing artistic and spiritual nether world. What Awodey evokes is the kind of pathos and desperate insight of the Consul found in Malcolm Lowry's Under the Volcano." It is also a stunning technical achievement- Awodey has reinvented and redefined the haibun form- his rhythm and pacing are consciously symphonic.
THE EAST RIVER
besotted, cursing
a heap of corduroy
stains
the polished curbstones
By the time Waskow began to usher him back to Brooklyn, half of the subway stations were padlocked. Purple shadows encrusted pock marked snow beaten down
by the treadmills, and mysteries
behind every dark window of New York. They roamed the frozen East side guided by beckoning street lights and occasional cops,
as they searched for an unstretched galvanized gate that would let them retreat under the River. David thou | |  | | Telegrams from the Psych Ward, and other poems
"Marc Awodey writes with mesmerizing intensity. His poems are passionate displays of cadence and rhythm; swirls of drunken, expanding metaphor, all artfully choreographed within an elegant framework of stories. Telegrams from the Psych Ward resonates with one of the most original poetic voices I've encountered in years." -Catherine A. Salmons, (poet, literary critic The Boston Phoenix; Cambridge, MA)
"Awodey is certainly one of the most startlingly
original poetic voices I have heard for a good while, and I note that his concerns are universal, not just local, as is the case with so many overseas poets. However, many of his images are local, as in ("Rain"), "exuberence flowed flowed through flames of hair from / blasts of rain / sustained in open air on sixty miles / of North America". Awodey's work is sustained power seldom lax, certainly never unenthusiastic and quite simply, in an age where just about anything masquerading as poetry can get onto at least an electronic magazine or pe |
|
|
|
