“we coalesce, from time to time we sting each other.
and in the furnace of our wrath, racking ourselves:
our bodies, our minds, our very souls; to be set free
given deliverance. but what is it we are free of?”
Psych. Ward is a surreal, cerebral romance of words, so entrancing for those of us who love language. Part stream-of-consciousness, part traditional poetry, it’s a short read that passes too quickly.
Describing this poet’s work is much like describing a dream or an artwork – there is not anything that conveys it with justice except for itself. To me it seems incredibly dreamlike, with much powerful and sensual imagery, but with the tragedies of reality hovering just out of sight along the edges. In its own words, “madness and beauty”.
If we have to have a negative, I suppose it could’ve been more organized. It’s somewhat difficult to tell where the poems begin and end. Not that you really need such base things as endings and beginnings in poetry, but that’s just a personal preference.
You can find this author’s entire gallery of work on Smashwords.com for free read or download. I definitely recommend.
General – 4.5/5