As the Dark Sea Braces for Light

A Review of Sighting Icarus, by Richard Martin
By Sophia G. Kidd

Sighting Icarus (Buy this Book)
Poems by Richard Martin
Igneus Press, 2020, 24 pages

18 poems all-up; we begin with ‘Flight Check’ and end with the book’s title poem, ‘Sighting Icarus.’ Each poem, with its calculus of moon and star, of unknown and thought, performs a light structure; stanzas of two to four lines, one to four stanzas per poem. Externalized thought is combined with internalized image to wrest from inwardly the readers’ insight and delight; as in “Instant Metaphysics”: “The indelible delicacy/ of the unknown/ haunts being.” We see the unknown as something delicate, a possibility of love; as in “Preparation”: “Love embraces the unknown/ to become whole.” Perhaps love is that which dares to break the chain between cause and effect, to attend to life as bees do, in “Lovers”: “Lovers light amid flowers./ Bees approve, buzzing/ mindlessly.” 

Richard Martin is a philosophical poet, and we begin mid-air, in-flight, already on the journey of life. First image placed on the altar of our experience are thoughts, themselves: “I’m strangely happy./My thoughts are wax replicas of the unknown./At night, I burn them for heat and light.” In the pantheon of Martin’s poem, life is separate from our thoughts of it; as consciousness tends the fire of psychic night, burning day’s thoughts for fuel enroute through astral dream-scape. One expects his flight to be through the fantastic, the Empyrean of all space and time; but it is not. The author, weightless, confines himself to the humble space of his own home: “Nothing weighs me down./ I soar through the house/ without notice.”

“Splash” rolls out philosophical value and color: ontology: “I’m inside myself”: the mathematically planar being of numbers through which our experience turns: “rotating in a plane/ of numbers”; time: “We’ll meet at the end of time,/ that’s what you say,” as if self and other could ever resolve in time; identity and reflection: “There are no mirrors/ to guide us, reflect/ who we are”; and finally stars which fall to earth, into “ponds of recognition.” Then in the next poem, “Beach Stroll,” we are launched by the first line into a consideration of sitedness: “We think we’re here, / believing in the substantiality/ of thought.” Again, thought and substance, mind and body, Cartesian exploration into the nature of existence among elements which fall and reflect, among rules and laws of being outside of time, inside of number. However we must never think that Martin’s poems serve philosophy first. He serves, above all, the image; as in the second stanza of “Beach Stroll”: “The ocean is slate gray/ with a white mustache of waves / that extends for miles,” a taste of the poet’s maritime and spatial awareness. 

One may wonder what such pure speculation on the nature of day and night, stars and ponds, love and thought, the unknown and the mindless has to offer us in a time of tumultuous social change and political deception. Where’s the activist in this poet? What’s the philosopher got to do with us today? The activist is the poet who believes in de-territorializing the world of our mind, in wresting that which is mapped from the hands of ideology, of cartographers who rape and pillage not only  earth, but our sense of being on it. The activist is in the philosopher who reopens the gap between self and poem, between language and thought; so that real choice may arise, and image may strike root in our soul.  We end with “Option” in its entirety, which performs this revolutionary labor:

“Some retire into loneliness
after long and arduous journeys.
Others praise the sun,
the way it melts the sky
into a feast of colors.”

Other images and concepts in Sighting Icarus include the best ‘capture’ of daybreak over the sea I have read in any language, from any period of time, in “From a Window.” Martin’s ability to merge his body of lived experience with words is uncanny. While this poet is known for his humor and wit, this book is serious; devoted to a sadness which leads to promised daybreak, as: “The dark sea braces for light.”

An pure example of the Igneus aesthetic, this chapbook, as with the other three in the White Quartet series, is published on white paper and card stock cover; title, byline and publisher’s masthead in Times New Roman black ink. This aligns with Igneus founder and late publisher Peter Kidd’s preference for ‘a clean aesthetic’ with nothing obscuring the poetry.

About the White Quartet series: Sighting Icarus is the latest and third in a four book chapbook series designed by the author and late Igneus Publisher, Peter Kidd. The first in the series, Hard Labor, came out in 2019, with Cosmic Sandbox released later that year. Richard Martin has dedicated Sighting Icarus “In Memoriam Peter Kidd,” a moving gesture in nod to decades of love and friendship. The final book in this series, Hobo Return, will be published with Igneus in early 2021. 

About the Author: In addition to the White Quartet series, Richard Martin has also published Strip Meditation (2009) with Igneus Press. Other Martin titles include: Ceremony of the Unknown (Spuyten Duyvil, 2020), Dream of Long Headdresses: Poems from a Thousand Hospitals (Signpost Press, 1988), White Man Appears on Southern California Beach (Bottom Fish Press, 1991); Modulations (Asylum Arts, 1998); Marks (Asylum Arts, 2002); boink! (Lavender Ink, 2005), Sideways (Obscure Publications, 2004),  Altercations in the Quiet Car (Lavender Ink /Fell Swoop, 2010), Under the Sky of No Complaint (Lavender Ink /Fell Swoop, 2013) Fungo Appetite (unarmed chapbooks, 2014), Buffoons in the Gene Pool (Lavender Ink /Fell Swoop, 2016), and Techniques in the Neighborhood of Sleep (Spuyten Duyvil, 2016). Martin is a past recipient of a National Endowment for the Arts Literature Fellowship for Poetry, founder of The Big Horror Poetry Series (Binghamton, New York, 1983-1996) and a retired Boston Public Schools principal. He lives in Boston with his family.

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Richard Martin Review of “Gold Vein Lightning: New & Selected Poems,” by William Kemmett

Review by Richard Martin

Gold Vein Lightning
New & Selected Poems
William Kemmett
Igneus Press (2020)

www.igneuspress.com

98 pages $15.00

Recently, I decided to shut off and block all sources of corporate media lashing my mind by way of 24-hour news cycles. The information and disinformation simply overloaded the circuits of my mind, body and soul. I began to feel encased in the lead of what was wrong with everything. It wasn’t I was in denial of disasters and the Armageddon of the next moment, and thus, should accept a lead suit without complaint. And I was fully aware of the ironic nightmare possessing America, i.e., everything from rigged political campaigns to the initiation of the Sixth Extinction were said to be hoaxes by the Master of the Hoax, the President of the United States. But like Joyce attempting to wake up from the nightmare of history, I wanted to awaken from the present instalment of it. I hoped for a phenomenal epiphany.

As fortune dictated, I began reading William Kemmett’s latest book, Gold Vein Lightning – New and Selected Poems (Igneus Press, 2020). Kemmett wasted no time in melting my lead attire with his electric poems. In the first and title poem of the collection, “Gold Vein Lightning,” he writes:

It’s a fraction
        longer than a crack
                across the sky –
a bolt split a rock
      on the side of the
              hill and turned
lead into gold.
       There are things
               you just know.

Kemmett is a reservoir of knowing things. Like an alchemist who roasted lead with gold to produce spirit and understood “unus mundus” to be the non-differentiated unity of being, Kemmett offers this to brew in Behold Every Creature:

                 The gift of day; 
                  a field of crickets
                 orchestrates one string
                 of many notes.

                Distance punches holes where
                         there are no holes and map
                the sky for Lesser Beings  
                         like myself who can’t sing
                praises to the stars.

From the very first poems in the book, Kemmett’s verbal lightning struck deeply in me. Large sheaths of lead crashed to the floor. As I lugged them to the trash, they were heavy, bulky and awkward. A neighbor, blasting leaves into a purposeless dance with a leaf blower, calmed his machine to ask about the pile of lead in my arms, and had I lost a few pounds. Maybe, the Keto or South Beach Diet had paid the advertised results. I could only respond: “my nation is hungry/for green emeralds and mystical/sapphires, Li Po’s river/of stars.” (“The People’s Poem,” p.17). He shook his head and said: “Now ain’t that the truth.”

Lightning across the sky assumes many shapes and forms, and Kemmett’s poems were no different in terms of presentation on the page. The august beauty of his language and choice of words glowed in appropriate forms to their phrasing. As my body continued to exfoliate my leaden condition, I enjoyed his poems centered on family and humorous insights gleaned from imagination and experience or encounters with others: a lonely woman with a pet spider buys a deluxe model of the bible in the “The Bible Salesman”; a bather’s hasty escort from an ocean beach after offering a young sun worshipper a sardine: “Sardines! I shout back/through a hail of rocks and beer bottles.” (“Sardines,” p.31); and a trip to Home Depot in “Imagining the Worse”:

                 So, it’s come to this –
                 not until the light
                 through the garden section
                 at Home Depot do I notice
                 I’m wearing mismatched sandals.

                                  Am I fugitive
                                  from one of the nursing homes
                                  in Florida?

Throughout the collection, I was engrossed by the way Kemmett’s poems were stewards of the earth with their close observation, grace, magic, mysticism and wisdom as in Citrix X Paradisi:

                      I’m in a state of grace:
                               the lime tree I planted has
                      decided to root and defy
                               the citrus canker that preys
                      on bad grafting.

The gold vein lightning of William Kemmett’s poetry demolished my encasement in lead and suspended the “canker” of the present moment in history. This is an outstanding achievement, and especially relevant for anyone who happens to be a man or woman in a grey, lead suit within a grey, leaden culture. Kemmett sings through his poetry the world is immediately and always before our senses and intellect. It is there as pulse, energy and uncompromising openness. It is forever new and mysterious and cannot be reduced to sound bits and pointless partisanship. The transcendent world – in being there – inhibits us, waiting for us to witness it. Gold Vein Lighting – New and Selected Poems offers a way.

Please note: I would be remiss in not applauding the clean and refreshing design of Igneus Press books under the guidance of publisher, Peter Kidd, a lightning force in his own right. Graphic Details of Portsmouth, New Hampshire and S. Stephanie designed Gold Vein Lighting – New and Selected Poems for Igneus Press. Their design reflects the authenticity of William Kemmett’s poetry. The maroon cover with gold lettering is elegant and foreshadows the lightning strikes to come.

Richard Martin writes poetry and fiction. His forthcoming book, Ceremony of the Unknown (Spuyten Duyvil, 2020) will be available in the spring. His latest chapbook from Igneus Press is Cosmic Sandbox.