Triptych, Manolis (poetry)

Triptych is a new collection of poems by the Greek poet Manolis. Some of the poems refer to states of being, such as “Blushing”, “Thirsty” and “Readiness”. Most fascinating to me is how he captures a sense of motion just before it begins to take place, almost an anticipation of a gesture. You can sense the imminent action in “Suit:”


“Strutting a dark brown suit and
a creamy pale tie, nicely knotted
with a soft beige butterfly
unfurling her wings, laughter
into arms of intense sunlight where
he stands at the bus stop waiting
with those of us without suits
but geared up to arrive at work
he grips the briefcase with valuable documents
his glare cutting through the spines of those
crossing looks with him, you
could say he knows how to keep
his cool in the prison yard

since he was sprung only a month ago”

The words tell a simple story and yet underlying it all is a tension formed by the words intense, glare, cutting, grips and crossing. It’s subtle and unexpected, and you are left to imagine what violence may occur.  You feel this sense of expectation in many of the poems, and it keeps them from feeling dry or overwrought.

The words of Kahlil Gibran also surface in places, where Manolis uses them as a framework for sections of the book.  Many of the poems trace phases of relationships, especially love that is shattered by death. Manolis alludes to death frequently, as a constant uninvited guest that manages to linger. In “Teardrop”, the impression is of a grieving woman glancing at flowers, and ends with:

“…a single teardrop laughs
as you’re suppose to do
the rest of your life
Look, doesn’t it
resemble my smile?
I am in this teardrop…”

In “Affirmation”, he talks about disappointment:
“…everything you thought
you wanted so badly
all you assume you are pursuing so decisively
ends up as a dull apparition or yellow phantasm
like the sunken feeling mornings after heavy drinking
maturity nails you like a brick between the eyes…”

Throughout the references to violence and death, however, he adds scenes of light and playfulness. In “Soiled”, an injured man watches near a pond: “…two birds, arguing about taxes, one sparrow kvetching, one sparrow sobbing, for the right foot, for the left foot, for beauty of understanding…”

The collection as a whole reflects a sense of truth, represented in the balance of everyday insignificances and occasional milestones, all mixed up in the changing weather and seasons and phases of our lives.  In this truth, sometimes little things matter more than we'd expect, and greater things pass us silently.

Special thanks to Manolis of Libros Libertad of Victoria BC for this Review Copy. 

Royalties from the sale of this book will be donated to the Nile Creek Enhancement Society.

Where I Stay, Andrew Zornoza

This is an cryptic collection of random thoughts, experiences, and photographs of the author's fictional journey through the Western US and Mexico.  This definitely isn't the scenic route:  Zornoza's travels take him to the edge of urban life, mainly concentrating on the rough roads and deserted highways that have been left in the past by time and progress.  The landscape is grey, gritty, and jagged:  much like the words he chooses to describe his interactions and his reactions to it all.

His observations are sometimes funny, sometimes tense, and often a bit obscure.  You get the impression that he has x-ray vision and sees beneath the surface of the locations, as well as the hardened exteriors of the people he meets.  He encounters the most diverse group of people imaginable, all lingering on the outskirts of city and suburban life, some intentionally and some without choice.  The black and white photographs heighten the sense of distance and reminded me of a Dust Bowl migration.  There's sadness within it all, yet the traveller continues.  Much like an epic quest, he keeps pursuing that which he cannot identify.

"There are cracks in the country-in its families and highways, houses and rivers, factories, cellar windows, truck stops, in the sounds of chattering televisions, in the plexiglass booths of pay phones by bus stations, in the crushed glass of parking lots..."

"The prairie was my cellar door.  I had removed everyone I knew or the people had removed themselves.  I replaced them all with a vast plateau, then mountains, dry desert, broken pieces of landscape that didn't quite fit together.  I found people in the cracks."

Zornoza's gift in this collection is the little surprises he throws out amid the descriptions of the raw landcape.  In his diary-like entries, he may explain what happened and where, but he may also throw out a mysterious phrase: "because if someone was making a movie of her, the movie would not be good.  She was a bad actress, but there was no movie, there was no acting."  I really enjoyed the photographs but more the pictures his words composed.  Sparse, with no unnecessary details or dialogue.  An excellent collection....It reminded me somewhat of Sam Shepherd's Day Out of Days.

Special thanks to Tarpaulin Sky Press for the Review Copy.

www.tarpaulinsky.com