Writing poetry, it would seem, is one of those things that every living, breathing, American thinks they can do, and do well. In reality, most cannot. While that statement is not intended to sound pompous or pretentious, it likely will be taken that way by some, and I am fully prepared to accept that. As the editor and publisher of a popular and successful literary review, I am privileged to read some very good work written by those who actually can and do capture the nuances of life in those small paragraphs or stanzas that we call poetry. One such individual is Los Angeles poet Mike Meraz. In his new book, Watching It Burn (Dog On A Chain Press) Mr. Meraz takes the reader on a journey through life’s hits and misses, navigating effortlessly through forty-one short, punchy, poems that should resonate deeply with even the most hardened reader among us.
In The Great Poets, Mr. Meraz channels Bukowski through a metaphor-free ode to hard working writers and the often demeaning submission process. On Viewing a Painting by Jackson Pollock accomplishes the rare feat of being both sympathetic to its subject matter, and free of the sort of trite, fluffy, language that is too often used to illustrate admiration. In fact, Meraz goes one step further here in describing Pollock’s art as effortless, while he himself effortlessly documents a poetic thank you to an artist and his work. This kind of successful juxtaposition is often missing in the work of less accomplished poets. Raw at 63 veers into some familiar territory, and any fan of the beats will surely appreciate straight ahead urban poetry, tempered with a tip of the hat to Ray Heinrich. Street-wise, haggard and damaged folk inhabit Meraz’s world yet, these broken souls become sympathetic creatures, rather than objects of scorn and revulsion, thanks to the author and his deft pen. One of the strongest pieces in this collection, The Life of a Writer, is quite atmospheric in both tone and temperament, weaving in and out of almost allegorical colorations to end as a simple, yet powerful metaphor.
Watching It Burn is a fine collection of contemporary writing that can stand proudly alongside anything produced by the small presses in our modern age. Anyone who appreciates the often overlooked and under-appreciated art form called poetry should check out Mike Meraz’s work for a gracious sampling of what modern day poetry can offer.
http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/watching-it-burn/18825886
A.g. Synclair
Editor/Publisher
The Montucky Review
6 March, 2012
In the cluttered world of poetry publishing where chapbooks--self-published or otherwise--multiply and breed like feral rabbits, it's refreshing to stumble upon a compact volume of work that stands up against the best of the best. In Past, Present, Suture (Drifting Man Press) poet Stephen Caratzas has woven together a tangled web of street worthy ruminations that will suck the reader into his world, a world rife with darkness, longing, compassion, love lost, regret, and despair. In other words, life, as most of us will know it at one time or another.
In Life Among The Cubicles, Caratzas captures the banality of life as an office drone in five simple, yet artfully written sentences that will resonate loudly with anyone who has ever trudged through a day in corporate America. That Waitress With A Black Eye Reminds Me Of You, Joan is a moment in time captured with an economy of words that any contemporary poet should admire and emulate. The Trick is a jazz riff disguised as poetry, an improvisational solo of fractured lines and crooked words that redefine language and spatiality in modern poetry, and is one of the more impressive writes here.
As a collection, the 28 poems presented in Past, Present, Suture represent the work of a poet who adheres to the "write what you know" philosophy quite closely, while avoiding the black hole of banality that can often overshadow on-your-sleeve style writing. Individually, each piece in the chapbook can stand alone, but as a collected work, Past, Present, Suture is a glimpse into the future of modern, contemporary poetry. And the future looks bright, indeed.
A.g. Synclair
Editor & Publisher
The Montucky Review
28 December, 2011
