Once When I Wasn't Looking: Poems

By Geraldine Ryan-Lush

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• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0888873344
• ISBN13: 9780888873347
• Release Date: May 2007
• Publisher: Borealis Press
• Length: 70 Pages
• Weight: 0.15 lbs.

Customer Reviews

Lyrical Free Verse Very Pleasing

I confess I was drawn to this book by its cover. I couldn't quite tie in the title with the photo of the old house (we are not told where this picture came from), but it's haunting, "house-with-nobody-in-it" look appealed. Once inside I found a goldmine of beautiful, arresting poetry from an already accomplished writer who has nowhere to go but up. There were flaws of course, it's poetry after all, and one could spend reams of time picking these poems apart, but I'm going with the overall feeling these writings left me with and that is replete. Early childhood, coming-of-age, the vagaries/pleasures of womanhood/love, past and present, are interwoven in a simplicity that is at first glance almost childlike, but a second look shows a crafting indicative of a highly skilled poet whose instinctive voice is oblivious of, and certainly not burdened by, outside forces or scholarly opinions. She doesn't seem to care, and therein lies the charm of her poems. Take "Kevin," a poem dealing with the young rake from the wrong side of the tracks. The intro sets the scene: Fish cakes, homemade bread, date squares or lemon meringue pie- pick your choice- dished up with dire diatribes of the rules for boarding girls... Ryan-Lush tells stories in her poems, and presents us with delightful images as sharp and imagistic as an old box camera's snaps. Note the lyrical movement of Sunday on the Meadow: Sunday on the meadow My father bends down on one knee to pose with my baby brother- He wears a shirt and tie- just home from second mass and the fresh meat smells are wafting clear up to the woods. This is a musical, memory-ridden voyage of delight on a summer meadow on a Sunday. The mother whispering in a "voice unnaturally grand" re visitors from the city, and the "children capering in their white nylon tulle" and the bachelors "filing in for their uninvited sojourn and their news of the day," creating the surprise ending is wonderfully done. Spme of the lines in her poetry can stop you short in their eloquent elocution and execution: Jukebox jives/greased-up guys/and a wild-haired woman/with merchant eyes/running the show/from the mottled glow/of a 15-watt. (p.52) ..to preserve, protect and defend the Constitution/of the Child Within. (p.55)...like an accommodating wave/struggling for balance/with no foam at the edge (p.60) Que Sera..Mockingbird Hill.while I scaled the cracks and crevices of youth (p.42) encircled by timid rail fences (p4) ..a brief respite...a guileless knight...(p.11) Corsage pinned to overcoats/Apple-cheeked fresh/Dressed-up Robin Redbreasts/on Christmas Parade (p.38) My grandmother crossed the kitchen floor/her swollen ankles spreading like yeastbread/over her shoes. (p.5)...and f