Ache

by Joseph Ross

"Walt Whitman I am he attesting sympathy . Joseph Ross could say the same. The poems in Ache flow from a fountain of compassion for those so often denied these sacred immigrants crossing the border at their peril, people of color murdered by police now and half a century ago, the martyrs whose names we know--from Trayvon Martin to Archbishop Romero--and whose names we do not know. In one breath, the poet speaks in the voice of Nelson Mandela, addressing the mother of lynching victim Emmett Till; in the next breath, he speaks of his own high school student, a young Black man spat upon by an officer of the law. In clear, concise language, Joseph Ross praises and grieves the world around him, the music as well as the murder. He also engages in If you leave your country in the wrong hands, / you might return to /see it drowning in blood, / able to spit / but not to speak. Yes, indeed." - Martín Espada

Genres: Poetry

118 pages, Paperback

First published March 14, 2017

Reviews

[Craig Werner · Rating 3 out of 5]

Joseph Robb's heart and head are in the right place. He writes sequences of poems responding to the calls of John Coltrane, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Langston Hughes, Trayvon Martin, Nelson Mandela, the immigrants invoking Santo Toribio as they cross the deserts. He's pissed off at our collective failure to respond meaningfully, as the closing lines from "On Langston Hughes' 'The Negro Speaks of Rivers'" attests:
There is only one thing
to know here:

we are meaner than deep,
we forgive less than we

harm. We are silent
in the face of almost

everything."

So I'm down with Ross's determination to break the silence--and to act on the witness. The problem is that I don't find much lyrical intensity or imagistic punch in the volume. He's a bit distanced, watching rather than being there. If you want witness, though, kick it up a star.

Recommended poems: "On John Coltrane's 'Alabama'"; "Here"; To Jean-Michel Basquiat: SAMO," and "On Langston Hughes' 'The Negro Speaks of Rivers.'"

[Courtney LeBlanc · Rating 4 out of 5]

A collection of poems about racism, violence against Black people in America; poems in conversation with Nelson Mandela, John Coltrane, Henry O. Tanner.

from Nelson Mandela, Prisoner No. 46664: "This posture, // a sentence of standing / to read, to believe // every waking breath / need not be a war. // Every resting breath / need not be an ache."

from Eight Ways of Looking at the George Zimmerman Trial: "Every murder is born / somewhere. // This one was born / reaching, like a tree, / one arching branch / bent over / the weight of ashes, / rope, a fruited noose."

from For Z Who Lost His Mother in Hurricane Katrina: "He had a vague memory / of what it meant to breathe, // but here, he had to diligently / re-learn so many lessons."

[J.G. Finch · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book took me by surprise. I am very picky when it comes to poetry, but I make an exception for this book. The references in the book interest me: Nelson Mandela, John Coltrane, Langston Hughes, Jean-Michel Basquiat etc. In many of the poems he gives many personal insights of each person or topic he is writing about. I really can say I like the way the poems are not written cheaply, or written without merit. I like that they have a nuance feel to them. Kind of like that feel of going back in the days to see all these great figures perform in the 60s/80s, that is the feeling I get from the whole book. I feel like I am reading something beautifully historic but it was done with rhythm. Very fine-tuned words of subtle art.