The poet may redact
The light that through his poem does refract.
But the reader will therein construe
That she believes to be true.
You, my readers, should know by now how much I love reading poetry. Now, many people tend to prefer to read poetry collections in bits – reading one poem a day, or a few at a time, or even one a week – just to savour the beauty within the pages. I, on the other hand, am too absorbed to put it down.
…I read this collection in 30 minutes.
The interesting thing about poetry, in my opinion, is how personal it tends to be. Ordinarily, K. Morris’ work is much more focused on the stories of other people, and though such stories appear in this collection, it was refreshing to see a much more personal take on a lot of the poems in Refractions. I felt connected to Morris in a way I never have before, and it was both striking and interesting.
In short, I loved it.
I am still and forever in awe of how K. Morris’ work manages to be simultaneously witty and alluring, yet equally impassioned and profound. I won’t question it. I have come to accept Morris’ brilliance as it is: raw and honest and true.
It’s difficult to look at poetry objectively, because it is either potent to the reader, or it isn’t. Simple.
I am yet to encounter a collection of Morris’ that I haven’t left feeling inspired.
Rain and birds
Mingles in joy beyond words.
(Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from K Morris in exchange for an honest review. I would like to send a big thank you and congratulations to K Morris for this collection, and its brilliance.)