Book Reviews by Spriha Kant: “These Random Acts of Wildness” by Paul Brookes

Review of Paul Brookes’s book “These Random Acts of Wildness” by “Spriha Kant”

This book consists of a collection of poetries. 

The poet in some poetries makes his readers travel in, around, and out of the different portions of the home including lawns, backyards, kitchen, etc., in some of which he shows glimpses of the chores and concludes the bitter truth of the world and/or one of the fundamental truths of existence that whatever is created is meant to be destroyed the one or the other day. Quoting the following few words and stanzas from a few such poetries:

“His toy won't 
  cut grass but safely glides over its length, 
  so he stamps and bawls when his world don't 
  conform to his straight lines, because it's bent. 

  My wife says “Better” to our short shorn lawn. 
  We all want the wild to be uniform.”

“Organic time tamed, all about decay 
  not growth. Imagine accurate time based 
  on a gradually emerging way. 
  However, all things reduce to waste. 

  Our Dandelion's blown clocks are seeds
  to be uprooted as unwanted weeds.”

“A wave that washes away proof 
 that any effort has taken place, stacks 
 temporarily, finds another use, 
 
 elsewhere that is not always clear, and might 
 be mistaken for anarchy, or loss 
 of control, not wise, sensible foresight, 
 briefly anthologises summer's floss. 
 
 Never enough time to read the new 
 collections before gust edits the view.”
In a few of his poems, the poet has described the cruel and violent behavior of birds and animals such as in the poetry “The Hedgehog,” the intense fighting sequences can be seen. However, a few words from the poetry “Inhale Dappled Sun” are influential to bring tears to a compassionate heart, as quoted below:

“Bigger birds to feed their young snatch 
  open beaked fluffy kids from nests”

The poet has mixed many different horrible flavors in his different poetries, such as the poem “Polishing Me” which has a blood-curdling hysterical flavor. Similarly, the acerbic flavor in the last stanza of the poem “I Put My Bins Out” can be felt, and many other different flavors are worth reading in this book. 
    
Both poets and poetesses sometimes do work like abstract painters by leaving their poetries to the interpretation of readers. The poet has done so in his poetry “My Vacuuming” by concealing many stygian truths beneath it. The comprehension of the quantity or quantities of stygian truth(s) and the stygian truth(s) comprehended varies from reader to reader. 

Apart from concealing stygian truths beneath the poetry, the poet has also directly pointed to the messes encompassing the world in his poetry “My Window Cleaning” and a few words he used in this poetry are very deep and hard-hitting and, in the end, he states the question whose answer is unknown to him that shall remain unknown to everyone forever. 

The title of this book “These Random Acts of Wildness” kept by the poet is apropos to the shades the poet has used to paint his poems and he just wants to see the wildness vanish from this world that he stated in a few poems. Quoting a few words from the poem “Ironing” depicting the efforts the poet makes to reduce the wildness of this world:

“My hard weight tames the uneven and wild, 
  makes it all proper, gentle, meek and mild.”

However, merely, a shade is not appealing to the eyes in any painting. So, to add beauty to this poetry book, the poet also added tints in a few poems. The next two stanzas unfurl a few tints the poet added to a few poems. The pan containing shades was meant to be heavier than the tints in the beam balance of the poetries in this book as the poet desires to see the world without wildness and hence constantly tries to reduce the wildness. 

Personification is usually used to make the readers visualize the beauty of nature in the poems but the poet in his poetry “In Washing Up” has beautifully used personification to add enthusiasm and to motivate the spirit of readers. 

As it has been stated in the few words from the preceding stanza that “Personification is usually used to make the readers visualize the beauty of nature in the poems” so is the case in the poetry “Wildlife Map” except that the beauty is about the interaction between the light and slug windows. 

The poet has shone a very few poems with a beauty whose intensity is high with the size of a tiny thermocol ball, quoting such few beauties from different poems below:

“Butterfly briefly stainglasses our window.”

“A specialist shop 
 had a bud float in my clear cup unfurled 
 before my eyes.”
 
The poet has used very easy words with brevity to express the message he wants to convey to his readers. The use of easy words with brevity being one of the peculiarities of this book makes it suitable to be easily understandable by even non-poetic minds. 

Bios (Spriha Kant and Paul Brookes):

Spriha Kant:

Spriha Kant is a poetess and a book reviewer.

Her poetry The Seashell was published online at Imaginary Land Stories for the first time.

The poetries of Spriha have been published in five anthologies till now:

Sing, Do The Birds of Spring

A Whisper Of Your Love

Hard Rain Poetry: Forever Dylan

Bare Bones Writing Issue 1: Fevers of the mind

Hidden in Childhood

Spriha has done seven book reviews till now:

The Keeper of Aeons by Matthew MC Smith

Nature Speaks of Love and Sorrow by Jeff Flesch

Washed Away: A Collection of Fragments by Shiksha Dheda

Spaces by Clive Gresswell

Silence From the Shadows by Stuart Matthews

Breathe by Helen Laycock

Woman: Splendor and Sorrow: Love Poems and Poetic Prose by Gabriela Marie Milton

Spriha has collaborated on the poetry The Doorsteps Series with David L O’ Nan.

Spriha has been a part of the two events celebrating the launches of the books till now:

Nature Speaks of Love and Sorrow by Jeff Flesch

As FolkTaleTeller by Paul Brookes

Her poetic quote “An orphic wind storm blew away a sand dune that heaped all our love memories upon one another.” has been published as the epigraph in the book Magkasintahan Volume VI By Poets and Writers from the Philippines under Ukiyoto Publishing in the year 2022.

Spriha has been featured in the two interviews till now:

Quick-9 Interview on feversofthemind.com

#BrokenAsides with Spriha Kant on the brokenspine.co.uk

Spriha has been featured in Creative Achievements in 2022 on thewombwellrainbow.com.

The links to the features of Spriha Kant are:

Paul Brookes:

Paul Brookes is a shop asst. Lives in a cat house full of teddy bears. First play performed at The Gulbenkian Theatre, Hull. His chapbooks include The Fabulous Invention Of Barnsley, (Dearne Community Arts, 1993). A World Where and She Needs That Edge (Nixes Mate Press, 2017, 2018) The Speernbot Blues (OpPRESS, 2017), Please Take Change (Cyberwit.net, 2018), As Folk onder (Afterworld Books, 2019). He is the editor of Wombwell Rainbow Interviews, book reviews, and challenges. Had work broadcast on BBC Radio 3 The Verb and, videos of his Self Isolation sonnet sequence featured by Barnsley Museums and Hear My Voice Barnsley. He also does photography commissions. A poetry collaboration with artworker Jane Cornwell resulted in “Wonderland in Alice, plus other ways of seeing”, (JCStudio Press, 2021). Recent sonnet collections of his: “As Folktaleteller”, (ImpSpired, 2022), “These Random Acts of Wildness”, (Glass Head Press, 2023), and “Othernesses”, (JC Studio Press, 2023).

Twitter: @PaulDragonwolf1

WordPress: https://thewombwellrainbow.com/

Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/PaulBrookesWriter/

Amazon:

Celebrate Paul Brookes :poet, writer, and much more from Wombwell Rainbow

https://thewombwellrainbow.com/ a massive site that should be followed and read time and time again.

Buy this book!

3 Poems by Paul Brookes in Fevers of the Mind:   Her Fiftieth, Her Fur Elise, A Black Bead 

Imagist by Paul Brookes 

our god sleeps by Paul Brookes – poetry  
 

3 Poems by Paul Brookes in Fevers of the Mind: Her Fiftieth, Her Fur Elise, A Black Bead

HER FIFTIETH

You would have been

fifty this mayday, sis

five in the car, you drive.

nail in the tyre, too much

wine last night you celebrate

a workmate’s birthday

drive down the motorway

to pick up your son from school

a bottle of wine a night

amasses fat in your face

a business built from zilch

debts you hide from view

grieving for a mother

dead three years

bumps in the road

nails in your tire

car leaps over reservation

somersaults onto bank

and back again

the other four crawl out

sit on the bank

watch firemen cut you out

your excess weight

squashed against steering column

the only one to die

only thirty five

finally, with mum

I celebrate your fiftieth

my dear, dear love.

Her Fur Elise

I awake to Beethoven as Mam taps the upright

Piano downstairs in the through lounge

where morning light highlights dark brown dining table

And varnished coffee table both polished

with Pledge until you see yourself. Later

chemo will make her petite fingers fat,

Fur Elise break into fragments as disease progresses

and piano sold as her hands come to rest.

A Black Bead

I was given in Fifties by an Indian guru

in Madras with advice “Keep this

and you’ll be alright.” Correctly guessed

I had two girlfriends.

Eighty one now with asbestosis

a cough that hacks​

at his body more each time we meet.

-You’re so thin dad?

-He said I’d be dead at eighty two.

-Where is it?

-I can’t find it.

-I’d best start preparing now.

-It’s a joke,

he says and spits

into his half full spitbag.

I find the blue paper

he wrote the prophecy on

dated 1962

the year I was conceived,

and take a photo of it with my mobile.

I give it to him

in the hope he’ll notice

it says he’ll die at 84.

He died at 83.

BIO: Paul Brookes is a shop asst. His chapbooks include The Fabulous Invention Of Barnsley, (Dearne Community Arts, 1993). The Headpoke and Firewedding (Alien Buddha Press, 2017), A World Where and She Needs That Edge (Nixes Mate Press, 2017, 2018) The Spermbot Blues (OpPRESS, 2017), Port Of Souls (Alien Buddha Press, 2018),Please Take Change (Cyberwit.net, 2018)

Forthcoming Stubborn Sod, (Alien Buddha Press, 2019), As Folk Over Yonder ( Afterworld Books, 2019). He edits The Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

greyscale photo of grand piano

The Unresolveables (An Heroic Crown Sonnet Sequence) by Paul Brookes at (sonnets 1-15)

Anthology Post: Finding a Wonderland in Alice by Paul Brookes (poetry)

Wolfpack Contributor: Paul Brookes

Imagist by Paul Brookes

Worms Of

light bury through wooden clouds.
Insubstantial trees disappear, or are reshaped
by sunlight and gust. They bucket down leaves,
make the earth sodden with them. Rain making,
thunder making anvil shaped trees make rainbows.
You can see the grain in the clouds.

Depending upon how and where 
gust and light saw through wooden clouds, 
defines their grain, curly,straight or flat 
in relation to their growth rings.

I splish and splash paving slabs
sending concrete waves and ripples
to either side. Dive into the pavement,
backstroke through crazy paving.

Have You

seen the face of flowers?
A furrowed brow of lavender.
The skin folds of a rosebloom.
Gustblown fascinator of a Daisy.

A lily with its yellow tongue out.
A field full of closed mouth Tulips.
Climb a mantelpiece of mountains.
Pass the ornaments added to
by every visitor. Step carefully round
the opened envelopes of scree.

An affectionate crown of thorns
The gentle stigmata of a caress.
The spiked maiden of your hug.
Thumbscrews of our hand holding.

Look out of the windows of the moon
Let in a fresh air of stars. Street furniture
of an ancient wood. A sofa of raised roots.
Trees become lampstands ready
for the moonlight bulbs to be switched on
in their crowns, meanwhile sunlight bulbs move
from crown to crown. A shared lighting display.

What wallpaper did you choose for your face
before you went out? Large red open flowers
with a brown background? Anaglypta?
The red brick wall, or geometric lines?
Watch out for those with cat faces
who may use your face as a scratching post.

Skirting board round the hem of a room.
Are we under the dress of this lounge?
Or are we outside admiring the folds
of paint or wallpaper the room has chosen
from her wardrobe? Colour matching
the carpet and three piece suite
under or outside the skirt.

Walk carefully over the floorboards
of cirrus and nimbus. Especially,
at night when you don't want
them to creak and wake up
the house. Watch yourself
on the cumulonimbus,
one false move could see a downpour.
Your socks polish these clouds.
They sparkle, after mop and bucket work. 

Bone Colours

This morning sky is a blue bone,
winter tree branches untouched
by gust. Sky breathes easy
amongst the silhouettes.

Sometimes there are holes in the sky
and you can hear a bone flute
Naked branches become Aeolian harps,
plucked by gust, sky's breath.

The White bone walks
across itself using its body
as music. Hear the voice
of itself. The voice goes ahead

The body follows the sound
from bright light to bright light
from cirrus to nimbus
from gust to gale

The white bones is talking.
It walks across the sky.
A sunlight and moonlight path.
At night it is a black bone.

As if the sky is ash. A cremation
of the blue and white into grey.
Night is the burial time.
Day is the resurrection time.

The sky is a white bone
made of clouds.
Thunder is percussion
of lightning against bone.

A Knifeblock

Winter's knife block
is the key to unlock
sharp and keen edges
slice tracery and pages

of thin skin let flow
blood juice, let know
a thin line between
the bone and the dream.

Every Bone is

a word
We grow into, one
that may learn to stand,
Uncertainly before the first step.

Others may crash their words
against us, to show
how their strong
meaning and confidence,

might replace
our word with another.
Our words hold our frame up,
a scaffold to others.

Every word is a bone
coming out of your mouth,
wishbones, charmbones,
angerbones, lustbones.

Smallbones stick in your throat,
largebones make your mouth 
bulge as they muscle out
between your incisors,

bang against your molars,
restrict your tongue, breath
blocked, wordbones hard 
to utter through spit and mucus.

My Mop Bucket(Apologies to William Blake)

I create moods with mop and bucket.
My chiascuro is very expressive.
My brush is very free. I learn
from the Old Masters.

My floors are landscapes.
Spillages become portraits.
Accidents are worked in
In my head there is colour

on my mop that describes
dashes and dots. I'm a mophead
full of bright colours I dip into
and out of my bucket. No two

floors are the same.
I'm a buckethead.
Washing away the muck,
remaking it I imagine outside.

Different temperatures,
gusts, light. Bring them all 
into my bucket.

To see the world in a mop
And Heaven in a bucket.
Infinity in a dustpan,
And Eternity in a brush.

A One Eye

The sky is a skull.
One eye is the moon.
One eye is the sun,
The sky only uses one eye.
 
The one eye of the moon
waxes and wanes, sometimes
a crescent eye, sometimes full,
the blood eye, harvest eye,
 
wolf eye, hare eye, storm eye,
chaste eye, Blue eye, seed eye,
corn eye, snow eye, mead eye.
Ocean eye works the tides.
 
Draw down the eye lit
by light borrowed 
from the other
eye of the skull.



our god sleeps by Paul Brookes – poetry

Bio: Shop Assistant. Writer and performer. Books include  Please Take Change,  A World Where, As Folk Over Yonder. Latest: Wonderland in Alice...
Twitter @PaulDragonwolf
https://t.co/FM3fFo6T8z  for the Wombwell Rainbow Blog. 


our god sleeps by Paul Brookes – poetry

Israel, Galilee, Kin, Kineret, Kinneret, Tiberias

photo from Pixabay

First published in Rhythm N Bones Lit

our god sleeps

with his gob open.
When he opens his gob
It could be dawn, noon, or midday.
whenever we must awake
to work in the mountains.
The mountains of god's tongue.

They shake and gust blows.
We must find
our balance.
Hunt for food
on the undulations.

Never know
when god will close his mouth
for night to fall, again.

Sometimes night is short.

Folk say there is life
over the mountains
in god's teeth

None have returned.

Wolfpack Contributor: Paul Brookes

Sonnet Series: “Wombwell Cemetery” by Paul Brookes

About Bats: The Chiroptera Sonnets by Paul Brookes

Folktober Sonnets by Paul Brookes

3 Poems by Paul Brookes in Fevers of the Mind:   Her Fiftieth, Her Fur Elise, A Black Bead

Arachnida Sonnets by Paul Brookes (an occasional series)

The Insect Sonnets by Paul Brookes

Anthology Post: Finding a Wonderland in Alice by Paul Brookes (poetry)