Friday, June 17, 2011
All in Good Time
Loom Press 2011
It takes me awhile to get beyond the formatting of dates and lines that separate the poems kept in liturgical order, sorry i mean in calendar, patch work, starting with 1 October-26 September.
"It was none of the bones in the poet's bag of tricks.
It wasn't meter or metaphor or simile. It wasn't me
pretending to know what it is to be a salmon,
and setting it down for others to read. No shaman
identification. None of that. It was me only being
me inside the fish,..."
This poetic journal, poetic journey, Hudon journalizes, "all in good time" is an epic poem,it scans in epic proportions, in sometimes surreal feel, political epilogues, and landscape proportion.
"That one with the stucco crap over the door.
Used to be one enormous wrought iron gate
between the courtyard and the street,..."
Paul Hudon's writing, his poems are open, contemporary, they inspire, invite the reader in. His language resolves, intimate interiors and at the same time his language denotes exterior happenings. His language lets the reader except their own language.
" Was a time your mother wouldn't
talk to me. Ignored me like I was
wallpaper. Just plain foolish,
she finally said, sniffy
as a schoolmarm. Was when
I promised to be her kind of
fool. Plain is fine, I told her,
but allow me a little I, would you?
Otherwise, I'm just an other pain.
She rolled her eyes and I was in."
Hudon's time textures new meanings, weaving days into a year, tying influences into,
"A syntactic con
she called it
the unparalleled original
she went on
of our trinitarian
our endless blather..."
An obvious master, the reader will take what is a given. The reader can read the poems in part or as a whole.
yours & mine"
Wilderness House Literary Review
Ibbetson Street Press