Philip Kobylarz, Devotion, Photograph
if You knocked on my front door
i would open
to see the afternoon light
transform into brittlebush blossoms
the ocean waves
would slip lazily
to double over in the bahía’s tidal plane
the mountains would
shimmer on the horizon
and turn inside out in laughter
tan geckos would play hopscotch
on the desert trail
leading to the door
i will remember You
even when i open the door
and there’s only
evening to sneak inside
___________________
Sharon Mooney Lopez
Review by Marc Janssen
The layout of this poem drew me to it right away. I have laid out poems like this before, and found that how the poem sits on the page can lend some energy, some forward movement to the work, and Lopez’s choice does that for her poem. The poem itself, for me, centers on the words “would” and “will.” The first four stanzas are projections of what “would” happen if “You” knocked on my door. The last stanza shifts from projects, to certainty, this “will” happen. Throughout she uses interesting and surprising images and word combinations, particularly in the last lines as evening sneaks inside. Beautiful.
Review by David B. Prather
I don’t always need to glean meaning from poetic expression. And this work gives a surrealistic touch to imagery that would be lacking without it. It is this artistic language that provides the fire to transform perception.
Review by Jared Pearce
While I think the poem shows some excesses (the mountains going inside out with laughter is too much for me), it’s true that we all have Yous that turn and tweak the way the planet comes at us, and we all want those Yous to do it.
Review by Massimo Fantuzzi
Again, poetry from which to draw the much-needed strength. Strength to look beyond the evening’s fears and shadows and open the door and picture You. Strength of getting up again and again and with tireless belief to rush to answer that call. We will open, sure to witness the power that transforms the light, calms the seas, moves the mountains, stirs the glory of nature. Yet we know, our faith will be betrayed once again, as only evening will be there to meet us, trying to enter our lives like a contagion or a sneaky doubt.
A wonderfully lifting and invigorating composition that leaves the taste of a responsorial of hope, and the strength to cope with the shattering of all hopes. For some of us, that knock is as incessant as it is deafening, and most welcome is the evening.
Review by David Goodrum
I truly enjoyed the poet’s use of step-down-lines, the crisply described images, and the sly turn at the end — all reminiscent of William Carlos Williams’s poetry. I was also intrigued by all the possibilities implied by the use of “You” which is the only word capitalized in the poem. Can I, the reader, stop by and be welcomed? Is it deity or royalty? Nature alone? In any case, I gladly drink in the mood evoked by details of Bahia in Brazil.