Poet and writer Rachel Hicks has lived in some unusual places. She was born in the foothills of the Himalaya Mountains, and she’s lived in India, Pakistan, Jordan, the Republic of Congo, Hong Kong, China, and the United States. Her nomadic background comes into full play with her debut poetry collection, Accumulated Lessons in Displacement.
When I started reading, I expected to see those international experiences reflected in the poems. And they’re there. What I did not expect was the find so many poems of a haunting beauty, that leaves you with a sense of awe. But that’s what I found.
There has been an abundance of posts and articles lately about the death of reading, the end of the traditional book, the decline in book sales, and so one. Everyone seems ready to pronounce the death of books as we know them. Not so fast, says Daniel Darling at One Little Word. He makes the case for why paper books will endure.
In the category of “I am not making this up,” Nellie Bowles at The Free Press cited a new report by the United Nations Women organization, “Facts and figures: Women, peace and security.” The big concern: nearly one in four civilian deaths associated with war and violent conflicts around the world are women and girls. The organization also highlighted the statistic with a dramatic graphic on X, formerly known as Twitter. The report does acknowledge, in an offhanded kind of way, that three in four civilian deaths in war and violent conflict are men and boys, but I suppose we need to focus on what’s important.
As I read Think of It as Music, the new poetry collection by Penelope Moffet, the first word that kept coming to mind was precision. It was followed by a related word – etching. Reading these poems is not only like looking at etchings; it’s like reading an etching. And then came the third word – landscape.
Moffet writes in a very precise, deliberate way. Words are chosen carefully; then she positions them in the order that makes her meaning completely clear. And then you discover she’s drawn the landscape. Sometimes, it’s the natural landscape; other times, it’s more a personal landscape. She’s etching a picture that describes exactly what she wants it to describe.