![\"9781910834770\"](\"https:\/\/www.indigodreams.co.uk\/communities\/4\/004\/007\/486\/434\/\/images\/4633979920_266x415.jpg\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Dylan Thomas believed that fine poetry is marked by words that \u2018lift off the page\u2019<\/em> and a prize winning pamphlet by Amy Kinsman fulfills this criteria beautifully.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n &<\/em><\/strong> ( Indigo Dreams ) is a collection of poems which leap of the page by way of their inventive syntax\/form and their rich and musical lyricism.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n ‘Orpheus, the trick was not to look away’<\/em> – ends the first poem of Kinsman\u2019s startling and fiercely original pamphlet.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n And like Persephone the reader feels themselves falling into a mysterious and transfiguring universe.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n These are luminous poems which give intimate and domestic scenes a sense of universal import by way of their lush lyrical voice and powerful, revealing imagery.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n In bathsheba is writing again<\/em><\/strong> the biblically inspired protagonist describes herself as ‘just a scribe, the one who trails in your wake to scratch the parchment and make record’ <\/em>– and this fine pamphlet demonstrates how poetry can bear witness and transform the prosaic into the precious.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n I will pen whatever your decreed to be honesty, line the pages<\/em><\/p>\n with gold as if it may take the ugliness out of the verse. we<\/em><\/p>\n will all become mythology<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n Kinsman’s voice is urgent, playful yet profound and emblazoned with Latinate language.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n In the delicate yet dramatic the<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0moth, the moon and the bathroom light\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>the moth beats against the wall knowing ‘nothing of lycanthropy\/satellites, orbs, celestial bodies’ \u00a0<\/em>whilst the poet stands observing ‘pitiless, apathetic\/ as a spent bulb’.<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n And there is much drama in these poems. Some poems are tense and taut, for example the breathtaking anton yelchin <\/em><\/strong>in which an actor with ‘kiss curl hair\/dimpled cheeks, still keen to talk about stanislavski\u2019 ‘<\/em> is killed in a collision.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Even here in violent moments the precise, ethereal imagery isn’t lost \u2013 and he<\/p>\n is ‘ pinned there like a butterfly\/his lungs fluttering in the darkness\u2019.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n Throughout the book Kinsman makes new \u2013 often taking mythical ideas and weaving them with the contemporary. A fine example is the god of husbands<\/em><\/strong> which explores identity, sexual politics, and platonic ideals.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The poem is full of erudite allusions and fuses classical imagery with an urgent, and questioning address. It is witty, knowing and at times deeply moving.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n you said: look at he who severs us, forgetting<\/em><\/p>\n how love first was born and wrecked alone on the beach<\/em><\/p>\n dirty, half – drowned, wrapped up in a fisher mans net.<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n In these mysterious interiors, so much occurs. I relished dark rooms<\/em><\/strong> – with its slashed lines, staccato statements and astute depiction of intimacy and vulnerability.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n In a haunting scene skin becomes ‘that ghost of flesh \/between two seams \/<\/em><\/p>\n and ‘breath hangs in the atoms between us’ <\/em>\u00a0yet there is the violent imagery too of<\/p>\n ‘divided parts meeting slowly\/thunderous as tectonic plates\u2019. <\/em><\/p>\n The dizzying descent<\/em><\/strong> is honed and spare too \u2013 yet packs a punch. <\/em>This potent poem is about the creation of identity, and a life lived fast and with fire.\u00a0 The poet urges<\/p>\n Embrace <\/em><\/p>\n terminal velocity<\/em><\/p>\n enjoy it.<\/em><\/p>\n Kinsman\u2019s pamphlet is experimental, highly original and risk-taking. This is a poet who peppers her work with complex and sometimes even scientific language.<\/p>\n In the visceral lovers with lysergic acid diethylamide, <\/strong>a \u2018 white half<\/em> moon in tin foil\u2019<\/em> is swallowed – \u2018corrupting light out\u2019.\u00a0 <\/em><\/p>\n The poem becomes a celebration of the immersive poetical of poetry itself \u2013 \u2018 there\u2019s nothing so ecstatic as drowning\u2019. <\/em><\/p>\n The pamphlet ends with a poem entitled disappearance of the poet<\/em><\/strong> \u2013 its broken lines evoking a fragmentation which makes it impossible to read without feeling breathless.<\/p>\n The poems begins with the line<\/p>\n \u00a0\u2018 there is no precedent in this tongue <\/em><\/p>\n for unbecoming\u2019 <\/em><\/p>\n and is again, a recognition of the poet as one who bears testimony, even at the risk to the self.<\/p>\n \u2018 and poet <\/em><\/p>\n