Tag Archives: poetry collection

New Release from Chad Parenteau

patron emer

Patron Emeritus is now available for order from FootHills Publishing.

“Chad’s work is perceptive, fresh, and eminently listenable.”
Simone Beaubien, SlamMaster, Poetry at the Cantab Longue

“From nimble, spicy haiku and sharp political satire he can leap to the most intimate and subtle craft.”
Prabakar T. Rajan, poet, author of A Slice of Water

You can read the poetry of Chad Parenteau in The Fox Chase Review at these links: 2008 WS2008 AW

Gimme Five- Poems by Philip Dacey

Gimme FivePaperback: 74 pages

Publisher: 1st World Publishing (February 8, 2013)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 1421886618

ISBN-13: 978-1421886619



Review by: g emil reutter

Philip Dacey is a quiet and subtle poet. In his latest collection, Gimme Five, Dacey weaves images and words from his life and middle America throughout the collection. If there were a Poet Laureate for middle America, Philip Dacey would surely be at the top of the list. He is above all a realist whose poetry reflects who he is and where he came from coupled with a fine use of language.

Gimme Five, winner of the Blue Light Press Poetry Prize, gains its title from Dacey’s use of 5 stanzas of 5 lines each that he calls 5X5. The poems date from 1975 to the second decade of this new century. Dacey describes his use of this format as similar to a sculptor’s standard armature of which one can build up an unlimited variety of shapes and configurations.

For example, the poem Rosary, he describes the beads in the first and second stanzas as:

So many mad ants/ forming a loop, my childhood’s/black border/ This is all about the fingertips/how a god can be held thus.

No, a lariat to twirl/at a religious rodeo/lovers’ toy for trying wrists/found object d’art to drape/over Duchamps urinal.

Ending with:

The Crucifix at one end/is like a river’s source/to which the river returns/Hand-warmer in the casket/Girdle abandoned by the bride.

Dacey weaves images around an object in a refreshing, original manner.

Her Fingers, is a sweet and loving poem to his mother who was a secretary in the age of typewriters he ends with:

…I have my mother’s hands and fingers/ their dance on the top of letter/like a pair of tap-dancing feet/the bare ones on hot coals/getting everything said/before the soles burn up 

In Homage to John Ashberry, Dacey hits stride in the middle of the poem:

Familiar words/strange now//with odd protuberances/and little dents/To take notice anew/is to remember the chainsaw-like

Danger of language. To build or destroy. Whose fingers that/ in the dirt? Lay your tongue lightly/ athwart the tasty metal of syllables/lest in the cold your skin stick. 

You can get the book here: http://www.amazon.com/GIMME-FIVE-Philip-Dacey/dp/1421886618/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1366282154&sr=1-3&keywords=philip+dacey

g emil reutter– g emil reutter lives and writes in the Fox Chase neighborhood of Philadelphia

A Sort of Adam Infant Dropped: True Myths by R. Scott Yarbrough

Yarbrough book_

Paperback: 112 pages

Publisher: Ink Brush Press (January 25, 2013)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 0988383950

ISBN-13: 978-0988383951


.Review by: Diane Sahms-Guarnieri

R. Scott Yarbrough attempts time and again to reconcile his world of the religious and the mythological through narrative, non-fictitious and fictitious poems, which center around his Texan life of conflicting roots (son of a Methodist minister and mother of Chickasaw descent).
Intrigued by personal and universal myths he writes poem after poem (many believable and some not so believable) philosophizing about people (real and imagined) and personifying characters of old (Medusa, Tiresias, Icarus, etc.) in a new and entertaining, even thought provoking way. 
The entire book, A Sort of Adam Infant Dropped: True Myths, is centered on his own “Personal Myths” (Section I) and his“Teaching Universal Myths”(Section II), all the while searching to make sense of a senseless world and answers to the unanswerable.  Hence, this may be why man/poet is driven to create myths/poems – to sustain him and us through life’s on-going inexplicable moments. 
Perhaps the saddest memory poem and the root of mythological stirrings at a tender, young age is Yarbrough’s “Icy Roads at Christmas” where“Christmas Eve has always been a problem for me,” that is when his father, the minister, died of a heart attack. 
… He finally fell lifeless beside/ the sad cat’s meow that twisted around
his feet/like a small tornado….
…Santa and Jesus/have always been the same person to me, really.
There are actually two narratives that make up this one complete narrative – the second narrative, in this poem, is the description of grandmother Yarbrough mixing “Ruby Red Daiquiris,” numbing her pain and young Yarbrough’s
  …Just eight, I slept drunk/ in her snoring arms all night.
The first section of the book is not ego-centric.  Many of Yarbrough’s poems focus on characters and personal myths that include extended family members, as well as neighbors, friends, and people he has shown kindness to over the years.  In “My Soul Mate Called From Albuquerque,” he writes,
We grew up the broken children of our own god,
 a Phoenix meeting itself in each morning’s fire.
And in “Vein-Faced Dolls with Eyes,”
…In West Texas, when I was in third grade, a teenager/stopped and drop-
ped a raw egg into my Halloween sack; a cruel adolescent trick; it soak-
ed, quietly chewed/a hole, then littered my candy out in little trails/ from
 door to door.    
.                            .                                                                        
His strong similes carry this poem along,
..the raw egg…eating away, dotting a trail/with all that free candy falling
out/likea spilled genetic code, funneling/ memory out of a hollowing
 skull/likeseeds sifted from the belly/of a Jack-O-Lantern?” 
But this poem is not just about a horrific teenage prank that happened to him.  Not at all!  Sinister as this Halloween trick was there is another parallel world happening in the poem simultaneously, woven in and out of its fabric, and that is Nature’s prank to a nameless “she” in the poem and how this objective “she” was frightened by
Those mindless, vein-faced dolls with eyes that won’t/close: Halloween.” 
Further, the “she” adds:
…“It was also tricks/and kissing game treats with boys in the alley…           
…knowing I’d never grow old.” 
The poem weaves the “she” narrative into the “she’s” husband diagnosed with “Vascular Dementia,” ending the poem sadly and abruptly with the“she” following “that sweet candy trail” the one from the bag soaked by the raw egg
over the concrete driveway/ past the wrinkled boys, home to her /
mindless doll where she’ll have to watch an /aging witch fly across
her mirror night after night.”   
There’s a reason why I quoted many lines from this poem and that is because Yarbrough has dealt with time (present and past and future) in an extremely effective way and has seamlessly once again woven two parallel narratives into one narrative, lending here and borrowing there, so that everything adds up at the end and you ask yourself – How did he do that? Wow, such good crafting!  Even the lines of the poem that transport us back in time – “Strange how one random story can swirl back school desks/ and black rimmed glasses and hollow pumpkin heads and disguises”- are layered in meaning. Words and images layered in so many surprising ways.
As a professor of Mythology at Collin College in Plano, Texas, Yarbrough’s poems blend realism with mythology in a way that entertain and question the obvious.  He has carved out a world he lives in and a world he imagines. 
In the second half of his book, universal rather than personal myths tie the everyday present to the mythological past.  Titles like “Medusa in Kindergarten,” “Tiresias,” “Teaching Gilgamesh to College Freshman,” and oddly enough, “Didn’t Pinocchio Know?,” “Protesting Plath,” and “I Want to Die Like Johnny Cash,” reflect poems where axiom and myth blend past and present together.  These poems not only entertain, but question the everyday present and the ageless teachable moments of our classical mythological past. 
“Oedipus Rex Meets Tiresias at Walmart” has smart irony from start to finish, as the speaker, Oedipus, is returning his wife’s (or is it his mother’s?) – “Do it Yourself: Family Tree” PC disk for a pair of toga brooches.   Now think about it “toga brooches,” you know those pieces of jewelry that fastened to a garment.  Hmm…it works, right.  A brooch is something your mother/wife would wear and a “toga” brooch – okay- keeping with the ancient Greek toga wearing theme.  Clever!
Oedipus finds the “woman’s accessories aisle”and here is Yarbrough’s list:                        
 -Togas, laurels,/ choreographing chorus cards, herbs for alters,
 wrinkle cream, drapes, Sphinx repellent – then, there/ they are, solid
 silver with zirconium heads, brooches perfect /enough for a queen. 
 Women don’t ever know what we/ go through to please them,
 such a riddle.
Did he write “riddle”?  That’s what I mean.  The poem is a riddle. Women are a riddle. Walmart is a riddle.  Another riddle- me-this moment in the poem before it ends with Tiresias “blindly” wishing his life away to retirement “in the white clouds and calm of Colonus” is when Tiresias passes the “glasses shop” on his way to the door to exit his journey out of Walmart, and he says that he has to remind himself “to get an eye exam, soon.”  (Everyone knows Tiresias is a blind prophet of Thebes!)
And finally,
…I hold /up my bag, like a secret, like they want you to, /like you found
the meaning of life at Walmart.
Life is the riddle. What then could be the answer to what we do and why we do it?  Well, maybe, there is no answer to life’s puzzles/questions, but all in all, Yarbrough keeps it real as one can in A Sort of Adam Infant Dropped: True Myths.

You can find the book at: http://www.amazon.com/Sort-Adam-Infant-Dropped-Myths/dp/0988383950/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1362057918&sr=1-1

diane-sahms-guarnieri-signing-booksDiane Sahms-Guarnieri is the poetry editor of The Fox Chase Review

Listen To The Landscape- Linda Nemec Foster and Dianne Carroll Burdick

Listen To The Landscape

Haiku by Linda Nemec Foster. Images by Dianne Carroll Burdick

PAPERBACK; Published: 7/28/2006

ISBN: 978-0-8028-2898-9

72 Pages


 On the surface, Listen to the Landscape is a beautiful book of quiet haiku and beautiful hand colored images. The work of Foster and Burdick between the covers is an intimate dance of words and images that compliment each other drawing the reader into the quietness and beauty of everyday images that surround us.
New World
You see the new world
How the end of ocean
Becomes land, pure flight
This haiku is complimented by an image of the rocky shoreline in North New Jersey. We often think of the land ending, yet Foster reminds us that the ocean also ends. Burdick’s image reinforces the haiku in dramatic fashion.
I rise from earth, I
Shelter all things you give me,
I Keep the secrets
An image by Burdick of a barn located in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania compliments this haiku. The barn sits atop a small hill, manicured lawn surrounds it, yet the barn doors and windows are shut tight as the barn fulfills its duty to keep the secrets stowed away inside.
The haikus in this collection are carefully crafted and the hand colored images are outstanding. The collection has a gentle voice and the landscapes are peaceful.


You can find the book at: https://www.eerdmans.com/Products/Default.aspx?ISBN=9780802828989

– g emil reutter


New Books from A.D. Winans and Nathan Graziano

A new poetry collection by A.D. Winans is slated for release in December by Bottle of Smoke Press http://www.bospress.net/order.html   You can read the poetry of A.D. Winans in The Fox Chase Review at these links: 2009 WS; 2010 SU; 2012 SU Our interview with A.D. Winans https://foxchasereview.wordpress.com/2010/12/29/10-questions-for-a-d-winans/

A new fiction collection by Nathan Graziano  is now available from Bottle of Smoke Press http://www.bospress.net/order.html  You can read the poetry of Graziano in The Fox Chase Review at this link: 2010 WS

Cadillac Men – Poems by Rebecca Schumejda

Publisher: New York Quarterly Books

ISBN: 978-1-935520-68-9

151 pages

Review by: g emil reutter

Cadillac Men is a collection of character and place poems that encircles the reader drawing them into the world of the pool hall. These are not just plain spoken poems but poems that celebrate great victory, defeat, and betrayal. Schumejda highlights again and again the addictive nature of pool and the hustle. How the competition never ends even if those playing appear to be friends. Like the dive bar poetry of some meat poets, Schumejda reveals life in a pool hall of high stakes amongst those with low means.  Her words unlike the meats are not sparse but flowing with description and packed with the emotion of someone who has been there, her power of observation is at its peak in this collection.

There are those who write about the sub-culture of American life and those who write about the world they live in. Rebecca Schumejda brings her world, characters and all to the forefront in a collection of poems based in the reality of first-hand knowledge. These poems draw the reader into her world from the first poem to the last leaving the reader with the desire for more.

Poems by Rebecca Schumejda in The Fox Chase Review: http://www.foxchasereview.org/10AW/RSchumejda.html and http://www.foxchasereview.org/11AW/RSchumejda.html

g emil reutter is a Philadelphia Poet

Hitchcock Hotel by Lynn Lifshin Now on Kindle

Hitchcock. The mere name, a touchstone of the macabre. Creator of countless memories and thrills, mysteries and chills. Yet, the indelible stories he told, the masterpieces he created, must stand astride the cannily crafted mythos of Hitchcock himself. In HITCHCOCK HOTEL, poet Lyn Lifshin journeys into this vast penumbra of platinum women, psychosis, and frenzied brilliance to unmask the man hidden behind the torn curtain at the rear window of our imaginations…

Poetry Manifesto (New & Selected Poems by Vihang A. Naik

Publisher: Indialog Publications

ISBN 81-8443-033-7

119 Pages

Review by: g emil reutter

New & Selected Poems by Vihang Naik covers 1993-2009 offered in this collection in three sets. The sections are divided into Poems, From Making A Poem (2004) and concludes with City Times & Other Poems (1993). Naik has established himself as an imagist while maintaining knowledge grounded in realism and emotional intensity. For example from the first section:

Indian Summer

… where the smell lingers of flesh and blood burning alive. Buffaloes rest on muddy waters, and stray dogs on leakage from gutters.

And from Banyan City

The roots won’t die. You witness rebirth, in the mould of stone a sculpted ghost.


The wind carries the seed and drops at infertile land…The barren woman screams; her pain against the wall…There is a beast within everyman.  Know thyself.


The passion of Naik is strongest in City Times & Other Poems.  This section begins with five poems constructed in tight couplets then to poems such as:


Mirrored Men poem V

…His language curves like dark night of desire, takes turns with ambiguous intent. The diabolic tongue holds fate, as it were, on the tip of its tail.

on visiting grandfather’s house

i think of India/she is stuffed with wisdom/I’ve seen an iron/ flower grow/and

the bird of gold/ I make my way/ through corridors/and pass-ages

to a frozen room/grandfather’s father/was a saint/now/ a photograph


midnight city

in a moon bleached city/at the midnight hour/a stranger/awoke/from a dream

questioning the real/and the unreal. the night helps/none/search

the key lost/the grills and the lock/only the window/and/the cry

of stones and streets/the dry skelton/of a city/in/the grave/of slumber


Vihang Naik is a man who loves his nation and brings the reader on a journey into India and the passion that is India. Vihang Naik in The Fox Chase Review: http://www.foxchasereview.org/10SU/VihangANaik.htm

    g emil reutter is a Philadelphia Poet

Books From The Folks at FCR



Cahill’s Vishvarupa Shortlisted for VPLA Peoples Choice Award


Michelle Cahill’s collection, Vishvarupa , has been shortlisted in the Victorian Premier’s Literary Awards. You can vote for her in the people’s choice if you like: just a simple click…