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Poet Daniel Shapiro |
Daniel Shapiro
Child with a Swan's Wings
Publisher: Dos Madres Press, Inc.
Illustration and Book Design: Elizabeth
H. Murphy
Executive Editor: Robert J. Murphy
Cover Image: Shulamith Shapiro
Reviewer: Ari Alkalay Appel
Daniel Shapiro's poetry collection,
Child with a Swan's Wings, is full of delectable little poems
like "White Standard Poodle," “Almost Haiku,” "Arte
Poética," and "Street of Chameleons," and darker, yet
equally beautiful poems like "Providencia" and "Solitude"
which come together to form a remarkable collection. As a whole, the
volume masterfully portrays the author's relationship with language,
with poetry, and with his content, which does not fall short of
encapsulating the universe itself.
In connecting nature and animals with
poetry, the author manages to create a sense wonder and amazement
which extends to the way he organizes words on the page. Words
sometimes curve away from one side of the page, then back toward the
other in a cup shape, form a box around other words, or jump around
like popcorn. The presence of words in places we do not expect to
find them and their absence where we do expect them creates
interesting interpretive possibilities. This is not completely
original, but Shapiro's use of blank space is especially apt because
has a mesmerizing effect.
The poems in this volume explore the
infinite and the finite. Lines like, "My words are spokes /
spinning to oblivion” invoke infinity, while others like “It's
the body giggling, / telling you thank you / for the Chicken
Vindaloo” use details to ground the poetry. Then there are lines I
find exceptionally beautiful and evocative, like, "I too would
emerge from an almond tree / to greet my lover, clasp my arms around
his chest, / press his flat belly stippled with moss" and “Each
word tactile—hairy or sweet— / will stand / like an obelisk....”
Both the interplay between the natural world and the human in the
first lines and the commentary on poetry itself in the second are
easy to find more of in the volume.
Some of the poems are short while
others span pages. The shortest poem, “Almost Haiku,” is only
eight words, while the longest, the eponymous and multidimensional
“Child With a Swan's Wings” is written across twelve pages,
including bold headlines and words “spattered” across the page,
to use the author's language. The brilliance of this poem is that it
is about its own becoming. A few lines at the beginning state that a
poem is born and the rest of the poem tracks its development,
including its giving birth to another poem. The poem that we are
reading unfolds insofar as the poem we are reading about
is described. The poem reaches into infinity, “The poem
rejects all designations. / Who says it's even a poem?” and comes
back to its mooring, “Chameleon-horse / flick their tails and leap
/ volcanoes.” This poem is a reflection of the collection as a
whole: self-reflexive, imaginative, and driven forward by a sense of
amazement, almost as if from a child's perspective.
As an overall collection, Daniel
Shapiro has written a work that clearly comes from an experienced
poet. It is worth the read not just for its commentary on poetry and
language but also for the pleasure that its poems yield. If you are
looking for a fresh and exciting collection, buy a copy of Child
with a Swan's Wings.