by John Sibley Williams (Goodreads Author)
John Sibley Williams pares down and removes the extraneous to expose what is absolutely needed: the possibilities. He bravely turns language over on its side and we are left with how things could fit back together in unexpected and elegant turns. The poems in this book repeatedly draw you to a stop with stunning insights, which will hold you long after you have put it down.
--Bonnie Nish, Executive Director Pandora's Collective Outreach Society
In a universe written in the forms of questions, John Sibley Williams strums his fingers along finely tuned blends of thoughts and images. Enter the intimate conversations of these poems, but do not expect easy ways out. Watch out for the openings that will land you on the map of your own astonishment.
--Daniela Elza, author of milk tooth bane bone and the weight of dew
John Sibley Williams' poems are open-ended equations without solvable components. Bleeding, blindness, the absorption of self into the world, problems of identity and continuity, the incongruity of memory and anticipation create "controlled hallucinations" that probe our existence by suspending the coordinates normally associated with the articulation of one's reality. There is a great deal for the heart in these poems. These are skillfully composed black and white photographs, painstakingly hand-tinted.
--Andrea Moorhead, editor of Osiris
Using bones, Williams frames a place for mirrored windows and unobstructed doorways where love can come and go as it pleases. The rooms are floor-less, so photographs, clocks, bedroom walls and the staircase defy gravity. This collection has a haunting quality which makes you want to walk back into the room that you just left and search for what it is you may have missed.
--Rebecca Schumejda, author of Cadillac Men [close]
by Shannon MacLeod (Goodreads Author)
…After a few hours of readings, Lily felt the need to get out and stretch. A throng of people lingered around the entrance of the tent, but no one was waiting for a reading. Suddenly a hush fell over the animated crowd and it parted like the Red Sea. Through the gap walked the very man she had been hoping to spot, resplendent in a soft royal blue velvet doublet replacing his earlier leathers. Ignoring the other girls, he strode to her table and with eyes a-twinkle asked, “Will you tell me my fortune, then?”
In stunned silence, she gestured for him to sit and began shuffling the cards. He watched intently, waiting for her to deal the three cards and turn them over one by one.
She stared in disbelief at the Queen of Cups, the Ace of Cups, and the Eight of Wands and groaned inwardly. This. Is. Not. Happening. I’m asleep. That’s it--I’m asleep, and I’m going to wake up any minute now and there’s going to be a retired couple from Ohio sitting across from me wondering what on earth my problem is. Any minute now…
She swallowed hard and took a steadying breath. “It would appear you have love and romance in your future, my lord.”
“Ah,” he murmured, giving her a very slow, sensual smile that made her toes curl inside her slippers. “I came here hoping to learn your name this evening, but in truth the woman haunting my dreams is a lovely blonde, not an ebony-haired beauty such as yourself.” As he spoke, he tapped the queen with a long, tapered finger.
Finding her voice at last, she asked, “What dreams are you having, sir?”
“I dreamt I was in a spring field and a woman stands in the shadows just at the edge of the nearby forest. I haven’t yet seen her face, only her long beautiful hair. I always wake too soon.” He reached up to touch the hawk touchstone around his throat as he described his dream, rubbing it absently between his fingers.
Lily lowered her lashes to hide her astonishment. “When you see someone in a dream but cannot see their face, it means you haven’t met them yet,” she explained.
“Then perhaps I’ll dream of her again tonight and this time I’ll see her face.” He smiled, reaching across the table to take her left hand and lift it to his lips. “My name is Ian Kelly, and it would give me the greatest pleasure to know yours.”
“Lily Evans. Around here I go by Raven.” She raised a shoulder, indicating the gypsy tent.
“Lily--indeed, a most beautiful name. Now tell me,” he stared pointedly at her hand, “I see no ring that another has claimed you as his, so my confidence is strengthened. Look at your cards again, milady, and tell me if you see me in your future…”
by Denise Kim Wy (Goodreads Author)
BEHIND THE STORY features intervie…more
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― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
― William Faulkner
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