Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Cracks in the Invisible: Poems
Cracks in the Invisible: Poems
Cracks in the Invisible: Poems
Ebook108 pages47 minutes

Cracks in the Invisible: Poems

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

Stephen Kampa’s poems are witty and restless in their pursuit of an intelligent modern faith. They range from a four-line satire of office inspirational posters to a lengthy meditation on the silence of God. The poems also revel in the prosodic possibilities of English’shigh and low registers: a twenty–one line homageto Lord Byron that turns on three rhymes (one of which is “eisegesis”); a sestina whose end words include “sentimental,” “Marseilles,” and “Martian;” sapphics on the death of Ray Charles; and intricately modulated stanzas on the 1931 Spanish–language movie version of Dracula.

Despite the metaphysical seriousness, there is alwaysan undercurrent of stylistic levity — a panoply of puns, comic rhymes, and loving misquotations of canonical literature — that suggests comedy and tragedy are inextricably bound in human experience.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 11, 2011
ISBN9780821443767
Cracks in the Invisible: Poems
Author

Jennifer E. Brooks

Jennifer E. Brooks is associate professor of history Auburn University.

Related to Cracks in the Invisible

Related ebooks

Poetry For You

View More

Related articles

Related categories

Reviews for Cracks in the Invisible

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Cracks in the Invisible - Jennifer E. Brooks

    I. Sightings

    To see is to forget; I never tire of such news.

    —Donald Revell

    Phenomena, Numina, Startling Sparrows

    Faced with the world mistaken for the world,

    I’m not confused: it seems so sensible

    To call the loose, cyclonic pulse of leaves

    On sidewalks physics, and not a miracle.

    I understand a prophet undeceives

    Himself when, limping by the roadkill curled

    Beside the curb, he thinks theodicy

    Inadequate for even bestial pain,

    Or when, dispersing the loud shroud of flies

    That swaddles it, he wonders how the sane

    Escape their own conclusions. Sense defies

    Every compendium of mystery,

    And if I’m senseless, then, for holding this

    World most enlightening when its premises

    Grow thinnest, I am glad to be struck dumb.

    Look: fireflies punctuate the night with green

    Epigrams on love, petunias keen

    For the dead possum, and electrons hum

    Concentric hymns to probability

    While leaf-swirls sing in fractal harmony.

    Best is this line of sparrows that have shown

    Their utter distance from the disapproving

    Caws of the crows by fleshing out a moving

    Ellipsis leading into the unknown.

    Theodicy

    Sometimes you wake up inexplicably

    Cheerful. Substantial reasons aren’t the issue—

    You have a queen-sized bed and clean beige sheets,

    And over scrambled eggs you’ll skim an issue

    Of Newsweek, The Economist, or Time

    But that this blessing should be given time

    And time again—not every day, but often

    Enough to keep you from the chic despair

    Young artists wear like an expensive watch—

    Strikes you as something rich beyond compare.

    This gladness almost makes up for the days

    You stagger out the front door in a daze,

    Having already called your spouse a name

    That echoed through the kitchen like a dropped

    Plate breaking; hours will pass, and you’ll call home

    Only to find your partner has graciously dropped

    That morning’s catastrophic argument

    And pardoned you the words you never meant.

    You’ll leave the office happy, strolling past

    A sunlight-rumpled bed of flame-bright

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1