LIONTAMER'S BLUES

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Photographic proof of Thursday’s Connotation Press reading: one step closer to solving the debate over the existence of Ben Tanzer.

see: THE WHOLE PHOTO SET COURTESY OF JENNIFER TOMALOFF

beachsloth:

Bending Light Into Verse III

              

          Bending Light Into Verse has a simple goal: to have photography compliment language and vice versa. Normally the idea of illustrations is as a bonus, a lucky thing. Mixing light and words isn’t anything new to me. I love reading books right next to the window, having the sounds of the street and the look of the sky reinforce whatever I’m reading. While it sounds extremely corny it helps me focus having these external events occur right outside my periphery. 

                Jennifer Tomaloff is responsible for the pictures, glossy, dark, light, and colorful. I enjoy the pictures. Each one is another perfect story to add to a story. It is a circle in a way. And some of the writers featured are ones I am familiar with, such as Keith, David, and J.D. 

                We begin with John Sibley Williams. His first poem is set in a beautiful field. It goes over the joys of childhood; of believing a half foot of digging would bring him closer to China. ‘how the soul moves’ is a black and white photo. Unlike the first piece, this is an environment sucked dry of dirt or emotion. Only a fire extinguisher protects inhabitants from themselves. 

                Andrew Zawacki follows, letting us know data collection is complete. The photo holds a picture of something which looks like new totem poles hiding in cobblestone. I could be completely wrong but the picture reminds me of a Rorschach test. Part II discusses the end of the beginning: how data and infrastructure comes in to overtake the forest. It seems sad. Guess that’s why we view the beautiful grasslands from a cut hole in concrete. 

                Eryk Wenziak brings us to the city. The picture is of a graffiti-strewn alleyway. From the title down to the numbering, it reminds me of an urban center, of a ‘check list’. ‘white noise’ may be located in an urban area, I can’t tell. Even the photo remains quiet on the matter. It is winter. The figure 8 is a popular design during this bleak seasonal period. 

                J.D. Nelson incorporates designs into his poetry. I like it. The first poem takes place on a woof. The character weeps for the spiders. Jennifer’s picture is of a sad-looking part of the railroad. ‘Weekend Brunch’ talks about neon blood, probably the metal version of neon glittery. It discusses the disappointment of space exploration, of how we are grounded here, on Earth, instead of Mars. A glossy neon sign burns brightly. For the final J.D Nelson poem, it is perfect. Please read it. The design is obvious. I cannot describe it. 

                BL Pawelek’s poem has an agenda. The character becomes an animal creature, wanting to mix with nature. The photo shows a warm, bright sunny day. ‘dismas and gestas’ has an unknown photo. I can’t tell what it could be. It continues the religious theme found in the first poem, that of God, that of Sinner, and for the third poem, that of spirit. 

                  Claudia Lamar’s poem discusses being moored. No longer does the character want to be haunted by familiar ghosts. The photo is of a dark pier late at night. For the second piece Jennifer gives us a beautiful view of a forest, views I have in my brain but not on film. In the poem we learn about time travel from a child’s point of view, of adult languages we didn’t care about. 

                Howie Good presents the world in six lines. On the photo it says ‘Halloween’. ‘All poetry is prayer’. Ezra Pound makes an appearance. The second poem is the ‘make nice’ poem. After all the traveling and worrying from the first poem, the character goes to the beach. They lose their sunglasses. It is minor once compared to visiting a mental asylum and learning three languages. Jennifer’s picture is a cool looking shot of rocks underneath the water. 

                David Tomaloff hides in the snow. The picture indicates that. Snow covers everything and we can be left alone, yet our minds convince us of cars passing by, as if by automatic reminders. A brooding, nose-less owl introduces ‘Among the Wreckage, We’. We make it to the city. Everything is a lie. For the final poem we are brought into one of those ‘reading group’ circles, at least that’s what the picture looks like. The cages utter words. That sounds like a reading group to me. 

                Ed Makowski sits on plush-looking chairs. From his chair he criticizes other armchair inhabitants, but those armchairs are a little smugger than his armchair. His armchair is a truly humble chair, wise beyond its chair years. The second poem is extraordinarily simple in its message. The picture shows some rusted iron pieces attached to a board of wood. I think they are commonly referred to as ‘nails’. 

                Felino A Soriano begins with a shadowy poem complimented by a dark stairwell. Her second poem has a photo of a six accompanying it. The design of the poem means there are uncertainties, variables in the language. It is a ‘fill in the blank’ but where to begin. 

                Helen Vitoria goes to Von Trier, a snazzy upscale restaurant in a nice part of town. The next photo shows a calm field in black and white. Isabelle is remembered, as is a Corvette and a warped Ferris wheel. Each detail comes together to form a longing for Isabelle, for summer. 

                Joseph A. W. Quintela wrote a couple thousand poems. Just use the arrows, just like the ones you encounter in the photo, telling you where to go. Go anywhere. Fears and minds erased here daily, as the photo shows some delicious menus. Joseph is a strange fellow indeed. 

                Keith Higginbotham is perpetually well-named. Wish I had that name instead of ________. The first poem hides in furrows and tunnels, as shown by the lovely picture. Lazy Days Resort seems pretty lazy, too lazy to take care of itself. It is for you.

                Kristina Marie Darling has a picture of one of those horribly anxiety prone locations, the moving sidewalk in an airport. Nothing scares me more than those things, which constantly pull people forward and backward with no clear resolution. It is lovely. 

                Mark Lamoureux’s knows his way around music references. Referencing Don Draper using such a sleek photo is simply icing on the cake. Though to be fair I never dug Fugazi much. For the second one he neatly designs the words to resemble their content and resemble the photo. It is sort of a hall of mirrors effect. 

                Matina Stamatakis celebrates at a party. Her poem describes the emotions of a party. Jennifer uses the photo to convey that of anticipation, before the party truly begins a rooftop beach. Her second poem discusses a poor, dead tree. The photo is a bit sad looking; it shows a slowly dying giant creature up close. 

                Nate Pritts expresses longing to describe, to change. But it is late. Judging by the photo, it is lonely too. Late at night nobody stops or even slows down. Scenery blurs away without any emotion.

                Paul Scot August’s ‘Anguish & Wolfenbarger’ is a sad story. Insanely detailed, down to the very ‘standing spot’ and bus line, it describes longing. She misses someone who left long ago, right on that wall in the photograph. Bright colors shoot out of the rain. It is a happier poem about creating rather than dwelling.  

 

                Prathna Lor writes to a nearly invisible landscape, to a mother. An animal’s paw (mostly likely a dog) is in the snow. I like the idea of a ‘stain of his voice’. To me, it reminds me of how I associate people with certain sounds, smells, and such, since I lack anything close to ‘good vision’. 

                This is a gorgeous chapbook available here for free. It is sweet.

(via chadasaurusrex)

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