Anything But the Moon

By George Sipos

George Sipos is acutely aware that life, in its strangeness and beauty, will always elude whatever he can say about it. Exploring northern British Columbia, the mountains, harsh winters and human isolation, the tension between the humble recognition that words are inadequate and the insistent urge to capture what he sees and feels gives Anything but the Moon its blend of quiet reverence and meditative urgency. Anything but the Moon is George Sipos's first collection, but his poetry is richly mature. Exploring how alien nature can feel and yet how familiar it is as well, Sipos writes lush lyric poems about driving his truck or listening to the sounds of a henhouse, reflecting upon how everyday experiences slip through our fingers, never to be fully understood or completely articulated. Revealing a doubleness of sight, Sipos shows a fine-grained attention to the sensuous details of what he sees and experiences, yet simultaneously maintains a broader, philosophical view of the mysterious whole. Even as he celebrates place and the difficulties and preciousness of human relationships, he portrays the sense of something vanishing. The result is a collection of highly reverent and contemplative poems which demand that readers slow down, look and think.

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0864924275
• ISBN13: 9780864924278
• Release Date: September 2005
• Publisher: Goose Lane Editions
• Length: 104 Pages
• Weight: 0.30 lbs.
• Dimensions: 0.3" x 5.4" x 8.5"

Customer Reviews

A revealing glimpse into the works of an inspired poet

Anything But The Moon by George Sipos is a revealing glimpse into the works of an inspired poet. Readers are sure to indulge themselves into the pages of Anything But The Moon as the poetry's inclinations twist from notion to implication to statement. Beach Glass: At the edge of the hayfield/there is nothing left to say.//Stubble/like the tide at ebb/lingers at a line of clover the machinery/could not reach, or ignored/as superfluous,//blossoms of pink and white/like beach glass/ground in the wind.//The story here is only a remnant, an edge/you might follow for miles and/ get no closer to anything --/not the tangle of the grass, after-image/of the sea, or pale headland/of trees.//All afternoon/the fenceline of that loss./Those waves.