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Jan 30, 2019

The Tale of Four Pegs & Other Poems : A poetry review

The Tale of Four Pegs & Other Poems by Ananad Haridas
The Tale of Four Pegs & Other Poems is the debut poetry compilation from Anand Haridas, a journalist turned writer based in Kochi, India. The poet is a friend of a friend. Two degrees of separation, not distant enough to divert incoming friendly fire after a scathing review that I had in mind.

The book is available on Amazon. You can buy it here and I won't get any commission from the sales.

I do not have any idea how to do a poetry book review. I ended up going through each poem and composing my own new poem stringing together my take on each - few words or a line per poem. It seemed to be the only way to do justice to a versified creation. Although if you have not read the book the review below would not make any sense to you.

Here goes,

We get a peek into your think pad, it is honest and clear, though at certain places
metaphors are muddled or similes reckless, you could have taken out the traces
of construction equipment – conjunctions, explanations crowd your unpretentious core
diluting the profound and the mindful down to just another garden-variety heart-sore.

We partake in your pegs1, the fourth as you had predicted shows a sapient promise
traveling from you to you, we stop at the traffic light caught in the night rain’s fuss2
run over by a wagon train of your thoughts, in a deluge of imagery laden droplets
a few-thousands-more-than-needed hoofed histories, albeit all well framed surrogates.

You give us a lift on your bike,3 your glasses accidentally misplaced,6 no worries, forgettable
is the scenery if not for the mongrel and the shawl wrapped figure.3 The bonsai is noble4 
for a tree stunted, lonely and lost, finding its way through the symbolism of your words
nonetheless we lose our bearings on a bridge to nowhere5 where a fog of memories girds

your night. Fatigued we take the last flight on the wings of your migratory books,7 the ride
up, unexpectedly unusual,9 wormholes into Che’s OBE hovering over your death side9
where surreal verses sideswipe with singular views,3 you’re reborn in a tearful glass of wine10
we meet your muse and the sailor’s mermaid at the ship wrecking yard,11 as if by design

the sailor is at sea (still) stateless11, short on memories the forgetful lighthouse beacon
beams a glassy-eyed calm,11 unsure whether we can handle another reincarnation season
we get shimmered in your monsoon pale, sunny raindrops pelt glitter - dramatic12
not so the scantily scaffolded summer splintering flecks of winter,12 they’re radio static.

Smoke rings taunting death pass us by incognito,13 on their way to meet your demons14
we recede silent to make room for your vapory journey, yellow meteorites even wee ones15
can’t beguile us back, we team up to enumerate the foliage, with your pied piper traveler,16
to be preserved for after, much after the ambulances are done collecting fare from the maker17

on the home stretch, the gutted nest is mournfully moving,18 the blue god’s ominous dance
paints anticipation,19 broken reeds and spoken Nos20 leave us without any redeemable chance
at a befuddled bank where grounded boats wait for ferries21 to take them to light (for real?)
let the unease gush, wounds scale healing word wines, do a twice-over, heart the unheal.


Notes:
  • the part of the poems I liked are italicized; 
  • reference to the poems are denoted by numbers,superscript their order as in the table of content;




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