Harlequins and Angels is a new and evolving event in New Age Poetry
written by Rebecca Anne Banks. Poet Banks has published 23 books of poetry, has
been published numerous times online and has had poetry from this book featured
in The Inspired Heart, Edition #3 by MCI Writer’s House and in the online
poetry journal Subterranean Blue Poetry.
The New Age poetry, a mix of symbolist and imagist form, the grand image metaphors, sometimes illogical and truncated with a pared in style, often with a respect and worship of nature/Romance illuminates the violence of the post-modern world in juxtaposition with creationist mythologies.
“bootleg Ronnie, my bones are strife
the aftermath of swinging gods
the red waterfalls
fade to black
all paying customers
have left the theater
I look for ballet slippers
one in every colour
hang them from telephone wires
dragon monkies eat blueberries
the sun swallows the darkness
my last Empress.”
The poetry is an exciting exploration of the morphing language and plays with new word synergies, as if the Poet is attempting to reclaim lost spaces and creating new language, new mythologies. Often there are new words in the work, some based in French or other languages, some simply pulled from the sky in a freedom of creationist thought. Each word is carefully considered, pared in and juxtaposed as if in the discovery of a new and old wisdom way inspired by the Spirit. Words like a lost or expectant lover fill the empty page, recreate the dream of romance inside an ancient storm rhetoric as if breaking stones.
“o’ Lakshmee – cord of Dymphna
the howl of the wolf
arrows of fish
some beautiful gillette
anyone truly free, is guilty of suspicion
spinning sun wheels, in conch shells
I am a lighthouse
I am a lighthouse
blindfolded standing on a table
bleating, f, f, f . . . “
“the ghosts of Leoni
some beautiful ballerina
the Spirit Catcher on the bed is wrong
and apricot soup
the beautiful one
eyes of kohl
of ameabone and catoncs
A study in violence, hidden/overt, the violence of conflict in intimate relationships, the violence of hidden agendas, the violence of silence. With the wars in Afghanistan, the Middle East, the disjointed reflected adjunct of the death of innocents in collective dark karma, reflects back and out, the meshed images bordering on Dada, as if an effort in self-annihilation, the violence in the crucible is presented in poetry. The inane war economy, the wars, the violence reflected back in a collective guilt that rages through the Artist.
(Driving people out into the streets crying for forgiveness in the rediscovery of love and the Holy Spirit. The cursehold America/geopolitics is out of control, people’s love lives may be lost or misconstrued, there is carnage by the roadside, rape, addictions, suicide, murder. In the time when the word love included the word sex this was an understanding of peace, when the word love became separated from the word sex, sex became disembodied and this became war. In the last hours we are praying for the violence to end, we, the Women’s Collective have declared Montreal a curse free zone. The disembodied soul, some members of the patriarchy refuse to acknowledge we the people as rights and freedoms, as faces and bodies and souls sancrosanct under God. A society that does not understand or follow Signs from God is doomed.)
“the Alex P. Rathbone showhorse
the sinking eye of pandemonium
it’s odd how people become forgotten
how memories age
grow round with time
but there are no marks on her body
some are in the hallway
one or two behind the coach
some videotaped their own arrival
(a trend encouraged by Hollywood)
and who is laughing
at the funeral
someone is taking notes.”
This poetry is reminiscent of the truncated thought-speak of T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland, the out of place, out of time violence of ended beginnings and war. Although not a long poem, these poems exist as if photos of heat, violence and memory, a song of peace playing in the background of the shattered night. And in the New World, the jagged edges of sunlight, something like love plays into a black and blue chorus …
“and winter sits in
settles with a vengeance
cold, the last look of love
except in the colour blue
and his dance is the dance
sweet that calico moon
sings into sweet
treasure heart one,
in the flower of the night.”
Harlequins and Angels, is an evolution from Poet Banks usual poetic climes and presents the blue and the still in the tradition of the great Symbolist and Imagist Poets, giving birth to The New Age.
Genre: Poetry, New Age, Women's Literature
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