I love to laugh. Really laugh. The kind of laugh where joy rushes through me and I have to wipe my eyes. The kind of laugh where I look at someone I love and realize they’re in on the joke too, and we’re sharing a moment together that makes life complete. I even love laughing from pain – brutally honest emotional pain (a la “Louis”); even physical pain. Laughing can save you. It can wash you clean and release what’s bound inside you. Sometimes, when I’m feeling low, I think if I would just find a reason to laugh hard for a few minutes, I’d get a fresh perspective on things. Poetry, funny or not, can bring some of the same rewards. Sometimes I read a poem that hits home in a way that pierces. It reminds me that we share this crazy journey on Earth, and that’s wonderfully soothing. It’s a release, an exhale, like the first crocus in spring. This month, we have poetry that pierced me, and I’m grateful to be able to share it with you.Associate Editor Julie Brooks Barbour conducted a wonderful interview with our lead poet this month. Ms Barbour writes:
I love the music of Lauren Camp’s poems, the alliteration and assonance, the layers of sound and imagery. I found my senses responding as well as my soul, as these poems are filled with experiences that left me exhilarated with longing. I had the pleasure of interviewing Lauren about her poetry, as well as her work as a radio show host and as a visual artist. The result was a conversation that left me inspired.
I am so happy that the great Katherine Soniat graces our pages again this month. I love the timeless quality of Katherine’s poetry and its reaches into history and mythology. What gets me the most is that, every time I read her work, I end up thinking, yes, I’ve felt exactly that, and while I think that, I feel a piercing behind my sternum. She gets through. Ms Soniat’s work is more than a conversation with only us, too; it helps us share our understanding of life with ancients, who also seemed to share our joys, struggles, yearnings, and hopes. Sharing a piece of life, a true feeling experienced, even once – as the fine Ms Soniat manages to do time after time – is a great gift.
Associate Editor JP Reese:
Why do I love Bill Yarrow’s poems? Because they can move from playfulness to tragedy in an instant. Some make me laugh out loud. I heard Bill read recently at AWP in Seattle, and I knew we had to have his work in Connotation Press. Readers come to appreciate Yarrow’s facility both to charm and to force readers to consider the human condition. We laugh while we frown. His work is a lesson in writing from a poet who knows his craft and makes us long to ask for more. Enjoy.
Sometimes, a poem sneaks up on a reader and kicks them in the gut, but only after lulling that person into a feeling of safety and security. Teresa Narey’s poem “At the End of 10th Grade” does that to me. It is wise and understated as it makes a claim about life we all understand yet can’t necessarily articulate nearly as subtly or cleverly. “On a Spring Day” speaks to longing and dreamers, a parent’s wish that her child become more than she ever could. It’s a sad poem, yet its imagery is lovely.
Brian Simoneau’s “Poem in which My Brother and I Manage Not to Laugh Out Loud” is a wonderful examination of failure and redemption, lessons learned, and family love. His wise words teach us that no matter the calamity, “We learn from our mistakes / new ways to make / mistakes” and sometimes, that’s okay.
Here’s to being pierced, with love, with laughter, with what grounds you and releases you. Cheers.