A Review for Black Bough Poetry: Dark Confessions

(c) Darren Green (c) Black Bough Poetry

Dark Confessions

When editor Matthew M. C. Smith has an idea he goes all out. He looks for and seeks out challenges that generates wonderful ideas, poetry & art from contributors to the Black Bough brand.

His latest baby is “Dark Confessions” a book that explores a variety of themes such as isolation, confinement, disease and corruption. This is a prelude to a second edition which will focus on themes of ‘Freedom’ and ‘Rapture’ which is brought about as a tribute to poet/singer Jim Morrison (50 years after his passing) and the idea of “Riders on the Storm” and Blondie’s “Rapture” a very interesting idea indeed.

Matthew knows many wonderful artists & poets through the communities. He’s got a wonderful poet co-editor on board with Kari Flickinger, as well as co-editors Ness Owen & Ranjabali Chaudhuri. The artistic design of the book(s) come from designer Darren Green, from Swansea. Very visually appealing and leaving you wanting to begin to tap into the human feeling, the edginess that the human brain tip-toes on. That comes from Dark Confessions.

This series is dedicated to Welsh poet Dai Fry (a Fevers of the Mind Poets of 2020 contributor as well) who had an untimely passing as the book was going into publication. Please read his work below for a sample of his work in Fevers

3 poems by Dai Fry from Fevers of the Mind Press Presents the Poets of 2020

The contributors of writing & art in “Dark Confessions” is a who’s who of current day poets that are putting out life changing pieces everyday and should be looked at more often.

Contributors such as Matthew M. C. Smith, Elizabeth Barton, Tara Skurtu, M.S. Evans, Marian Christie, Eileen Carney Hulme, Ness Owen, Claire Loader, Jonathan Braceras, Ranjabali Chaudhuri, Steve Jensen, Devon Marsh, Kari Flickinger, Briony Collins, Jeffrey Yamaguchi, James Lilley, Adwaita Das, Daniel Blick, Kim M. Russell, Alan Parry, Dominic Weston, Sophie Livingston, Philip Berry, Mike Farren, Rich Schilling, George Sandifer Smith, Tolu Oloruntoba, Maeve McKenna, Tom Lagasse, Liz McGrath, Jo Gatford, Elinor Ann Walker, Billy Fenton, Nick Newman, Roger Hare, Elizabeth Spencer Spragins, Julie Mullen, Emry Trantham, Andy MacGregor, Daniel Fraser, Wendy Humphries, Dai Fry, Anthony Paticchio, Ankh Spice, Natalie Ann Holborow, Mark Antony Owen and i’m hoping i’m not leaving anyone out, because this is quite the list.

I’m still reading this collection which was gifted to me to read, and some of these poems I keep re-reading because the imagery has to be rested on for awhile and just mingle with your mind tingles for a bit. You can feel the emotives that are put out there, and do you dance with that emotion, do you hide from that emotion, do you cry for awhile in those emotions, do you smile from the creative wordplay?

Polish Mother Bones by M.S. Evans
“Each of us has roses in our throats”

Mercy by Tara Skurtu 
"You can easily be
forgotten in the unforgiving
blood of the family"

Just an example of some lines from these creative poems.
You will definitely want to check this series out from the brilliant Matthew M. C. Smith's latest endeavor in a collective poetic magnum opus.

3 poems by Dai Fry from Fevers of the Mind Press Presents the Poets of 2020

LANIAKEA’S WIND

Ghost riders.
Their particulars
printed to the flesh,
bound to living bone.

Origins forgotten,
dying revenants in
their crumbling towers:
civilisations long dead.

Thought weavers bait
as restless dreamers
thrash and buck,
bound in twists of linen.

Awaking only to sleep.

Life’s time travellers
nihilist clawed, reaching
beyond meaning, tearing
at the vacuous godhead.

We live as wasps do.
Angry, buzz-busy, wrapped
in our nest led lives.

Stirred back and fore,
this slow grinding
mill, a spiral of stars.

In a night’s quiet
sense a rising.
The galaxy’s eerie cry,
it is Laniakea’s wind.

NEOLITHIC FLOWERS

Eternity’s span
this arch of stars,
counts time beyond
ten fingertips.

Into wicker’s rest.
Fill this grave
with a crush
of wildflowers.

Mixed meadows
delicate pastels
and fine perfumes,
grace your memory.

Unbearable grief
and beauty speak
under the voice.
Why must our ways
always be run,
through a curtain
of dying flowers and
falling tears.

AMARULENCE

Billow-shakers
hold tight to the corners
of cool winds,
in this season of forever.

And in far reaching fires,
we wait for Khamsin winds
and desert grains. To fall
dry as stinging rain.

Conceived in failure and
nurtured with self-doubt,
amarulence grows.

A corkscrew of pain,
as vision tunnels to eye
the heart of a malcontent.

An anthem of injustice rings.
Mighty bells of
beaten copper and tin.

Out here in this static heat
a threat is annunciated.
Tremble as gentle anger
whispers your name.

Dai Fry is a poet living on the south coast of England. Originally from Swansea. Wales was and still is a huge influence on everything. My pen is my brush. Twitter: @thnargg Web: seekingthedarklight.co.uk

photo by Claude Fiche (unsplash)