Finalist in The Poetry Box Chapbook Prize, 2021 All her life Beth Bonness tingled with the sight of approaching thunderstorms-watching them over the wide expanse of a lake or far away mountains-the electrifying steel blue background with the sun on her back reflecting an eerie Tuscan yellow light of a childhood-giggled "storm's a coming" cast on unsuspecting trees and anything else between you and the rain, the thunder and lighting, and unexpected life events that soak you to the bone. The poems in Transition Thunderstorms are about life's soaking you to the bone.
"In Transition Thunderstorms, poet Beth Bonness takes us inside the stroke victim's mind with poems playfully organized on the page to show how in the midst of a thunderstorm or a stroke, the normal rules do not apply. Her 'thanksgiving with a side of no thank you' poems show the fear and frustration, the outer and inner struggles with rare honesty and clarity." -Sue Fagalde Lick, president, Oregon Poetry Association, author of Gravel Road Ahead and The Widow at the Piano
"Anyone who has had a stunning body-breakdown can relate to Beth Bonness' exquisitely written journey into (and thru) the thunderstorms in her brain. Her words resonate with fierce beauty, angst and resilience." -Anne Mendel, award-winning authorof Etiquette for an Apocalypse
"Transition Thunderstorms offers breathtaking insights into life events we find hard to talk about with the people we love most. The book is a tender and honest lifeline to reconnection. Her poetry articulates truths of recovery with gentleness and compassion and resonates hope." -Roxanne Colyer, award-winning artist, writer, and bio-energy healer
“You want to say ‘apple’ and it comes out ‘orange.’ Your hand has turned into a useless claw. You hope it has simply fallen asleep, but you suspect you are having a stroke. In Transition Thunderstorms, poet Beth Bonness takes us inside the stroke victim’s mind with poems playfully organized on the page to show how in the midst of a thunderstorm or a stroke, the normal rules do not apply. Her ‘thanksgiving with a side of no thank you’ poems show the fear and frustration, the outer and inner struggles with rare honesty and clarity. These are spiced with side dishes about sneezes, nose piercing, love, and death to create a delicious feast for the reader.”
A stroke may seem an unlikely poetic companion, but…
Poetry meets us wherever we find ourselves, even in the strange swirl of an emergency room. When our body turns on us, we can feel betrayed, abandoned, a tossed aside lover.
Surviving a stroke is the first step in recovery, but the days ahead find us in a tug-of-war between the brain, muscles, speech, and often sight. Words swim aimlessly and unrecognizable.
With stunning clarity, Beth Bonnes captures, in poetry, the brain’s errant ways:
“…but when the main gatekeeper lets words out she must be new and didn’t go through enough training because she lets whomever rushes to the front of the line get out first regardless of my attempting to control word toddlers jockeying for position & falling over each other as they tumble out…”
Words once stray, find beautiful and unexpected sequences on her path to recovery. Beth's words offer hope.
All my life I’ve tingled with the sight of approaching thunderstorms – watching them over the wide expanse of a lake or far away mountains – the electrifying steel blue background with the sun on my back reflecting an eerie Tuscany yellow light of a childhood-giggled storm’s a coming cast on unsuspecting trees and their tender branches and anything else between you and the rain, the thunder and lighting, and unexpected life events that soak you to the bone. These poems are about life’s soaking you to the bone.