In June of 2011, I
interviewed William Virgil Davis, writer in residence at Baylor University, on
the publication of his latest collection of poetry, Landscape and Journey. This
most interesting collection details many journeys Bill Davis made throughout
Texas and all the way to Wales in the UK.
His latest collection, The Bones
Poems, offers 78, what I call short and skinny poems. I especially like this form of poetry, and
many of the poems I write fall into the same category.
Davis has stripped
his poems down to the bare bones – pun intended. I read on page after page, poems reduced to
their most basic essence. The collection
displays Davis’ clever use of words and images, which never fail to surprise
and please. The collection opens with
poetic prologue titled, “Proem”: “they begin their journey back to flesh //
they stand alone in the wind / and the wind / clothes them with words / and the
words / break out in silence / as if reborn // to speak to those who are still
in their skins” (1). I carried this slim
volume around for about three weeks before writing the review. I dipped in and out of random pages as if to
make sure these poems had the depth and spell-binding nature I noticed on the
first read through.
Here is another of
many favorites, which affected me deeply.
“The Recognition.” “when they
bend / close // to the earth // their shadows / fill // with flesh” (16). These unexpected images, the impossible
actions and movements, leave me with a sense of wonder at the real meaning of
time and existence. “The Bones Circle”
shows Davis’ sometimes playful mood. He
writes, “the bones circle / sniff / the damp earth // they seem to decide it
will do / and turn // to step into the hole” (21).
Some of the poems
have a more frightening tone, and evoke passages from Dante’s Inferno.
For example, “The Drowned”: “like an image in a mirror / misted over /
they sink from sight // falling through water / deeper than dreams / pulling
their long screams // down with them” (23).
“They Make Love” amused me more than I expected. Davis writes, “they are stripping off skin /
letting it fall to the floor // naked / they switch / the lights off / and
clash / in the dark / like armies // all night long / the sparks fly up / from
them / burn away / in the wind // it is as exciting as death” (27).
My favorite among
all is “Their Light.” Davis writes, “they
drink a cup of darkness / like water / like breath taken in // they sing their
song / in the dark caves of the body // when you have forgotten them / they
stand upright in the wind // and the wind is like long music / and the dark //
and the dark / had never been so bright” (69).
I could go on and
on, but time tolls the end of this segment.
I highly recommend this collection of thought-provoking, interesting,
and most wonderful poems. Pick up a copy
of William Virgil Davis’ newest collection, The
Bones Poems, and begin to notice the amount of time spent among this garden
of verses. 5 gold stars
--Chiron, 11/14/15
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