The Book Reviewer
 
“For the Best in Books”



Book Review


 


Harlequins and Angels, a study in New Age Poetry.


Byline: Reprint from Subterranean Blue Poetry

Title of Book: Harlequins and Angels

Author: Rebecca Anne Banks

Publisher: Tea at Tympani Lane Records

Date of Publication: 2014

Page Count: (176)


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

Steiglietz

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 . . . “

and,

“the ghosts of Leoni

merci Brignabone

some beautiful ballerina

the Spirit Catcher on the bed is wrong

Americ Vespuce

and apricot soup

the beautiful one

midge marconi

eyes of kohl

veiled nights

of ameabone and catoncs

rent rate.”

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

kelvecchios kelvecchi

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

Paperback Available @ Amazon Canada. www.amazon.ca.

Paperback Available @ Amazon United States. www.amazon.com.

Paperback Available @ Amazon United Kingdom. www.amazon.co.uk.





TBRLogo
The Book Reviewer

www.thebookreviewer.ca

© 2013