Tagged: self-published

Wit and Wonder

wit and wonder herren 2017Wit and Wonder: Poetry with Rhythm and Rhyme by James D. Herren, 5/5

When the author, a fellow fan of Stephen Fry’s The Ode Less Travelled, asked me out of the blue to review his newly self-published e-book of poetry, I felt a bit worried about balancing the responsibilities of being both a Very Nice Person and an Honest Book Reviewer.  Thankfully, this moral dilemma was postponed to another time–I wholeheartedly love Herren’s poetry, finding it to be unpretentious, heartfelt and skillfully written.  There is something in it for everyone–I kept pausing to read certain poems aloud to family members and even sent a couple screenshots to my sister on the east coast.  When print copies of Wit and Wonder become available in April, I plan to buy one for my private library, as well as one for my family’s library and one to give a friend (something to look forward to, Alison B.).  For those of you who aren’t quite as addicted to the smell of fresh ink as I am, the e-book is available now on Amazon through this link.

I tried to pick out a favourite poem to include in this review, but I liked too many of them to narrow it down to one.  So I decided to pick out two that illustrated the range of tone and style in this collection, but they contrasted too much to appear side-by-side.  So I finally narrowed it down to three (which is pretty good, given that there are 148 poems to choose from).

Acrobatics

I juggled the bills —
and my family, and job —
all while keeping a roof on our heads,
then I threw in a dance,
and a dash of romance,
for my wife who was juggling kids.

Dare

Away with words.
Fling wild.
Crash in a dazzling way.

Dance on the shoulders of giants.
Mock them with your brilliance.

Rise.
Fall.
Shine.

Think

The things I think are sometimes not
the things I think I thought I thought.

I thought I heard a dinosaur
but that was just my father’s snore.

I thought I saw a crocodile
but it was just my sister’s smile.

I thought I heard a dying cat —
my mother’s singing, only that.

I thought the world was torn apart
but that was just my brother’s fart.

I think it would be fun if you
could think of things the way I do.