This review was in the Anthology Fevers of the Mind Presents the Poets of 2020 available on Amazon in Deluxe Edition, Split Editions Vol 1 & 2, and on Kindle.
When opening up David Hanlon’s “Spectrum of Flight” you immediately notice David’s very diverse, quaint, very knowledgable on poetry style and themes. Every word, every sentence, line, and stanzas are thought out. Every word is read to you by the writer’s voice. You feel trapped for awhile in the soul of the writer. What he felt, what he has had to persevere through, the depression, the loneliness, the questions, to truly begin to feel a whole self. You are on a long walk listening to the pouring rain in a cool Autumn month, You can do nothing but think. This is the book. All of those cold rain walks on your own, what does the thunder mean for me? Is this the same thunder heard by others? Is it even raining where they are? The distancing of others that miscast you. Severs you into their ideal. Why doesn’t it rain on them? Why are they exempt? And why can’t they see me? “A Taste of Showmanship” reflecting toxic masculinity that overcomes, a societal stamp. To wash away that ink. The imagery of poems such as “Dream in Which My Teeth Rot and Fall Out” gives you a ride in the circles and to obtain the answers within the spin. As like in dreams we sometimes find the answer to our being, our true self, the hope to be whole, to change, and conquer the storm. David Hanlon’s “Spectrum of Flight” is brilliant both in style, imagery, and a must read for someone in search of themself.
David Hanlon is a welsh poet living in Cardiff. He is a Best of the Net nominee. You can find his work online in over 40 magazines, including Rust & Moth, Icefloe Press & Mineral Lit Mag. His first chapbook Spectrum of Flight is available for purchase now at Animal Heart Press.
as the news anchor tells us it is time, we can think of nothing better to do than to watch deep impact
the sky drops to an awful stillborn pink tia leone refuses a seat on the last helicopter a man burns alive in front of his daughter elijah woods winds through traffic on his bike we are thrown across the living room
morgan freeman asks us to remember the fallen
there is a redness. aching. birth. endcredits.
i am turning to you as the softer parts of me blend with the wallpaper i am turning to you as we clot in each other’s throats
Stuart Buck is a BOTN/BIFFY50/Pushcart Prize nominated poet and artist living in North Wales. His second book ‘Become Something Frail’ was released to critical acclaim on Selcouth Station Press in 2019. When he is not writing or reading poetry, he likes to cook, juggle and listen to music. He suffers terribly from tsundoku – the art of buying copious amounts of books that he will never read.
some days my sadness is so magnificent that an acrid taste lingers in the mouth of the night
and i think about the thousand ways that i might die and i think about the birds
Stuart Buck is a Best of the Net/PushCart Prize/BIFFY50 nominated poet and artist living in North Wales.
His second book ‘Become Something Frail’ was released to critical acclaim on Selcouth Station Press in 2019. When he is not writing or reading poetry, he likes to cook, juggle and listen to music. He suffers terribly from tsundoku – the art of buying copious amounts of books that he will never read.