Kenneth Frost writes poems with imagery that touches our nerve ends
directly and demands our immediate response. His surreal juxtapositions are
delivered for the most part with a slow jazzy beat. There is a poem for
everyone here. Frost’s subjects range from landscapes to metaphysics, from
spiders to theology. I read the last poem in the book first and I’m glad I did.
It seems to set everything else up. I think it comes very very close to, in
fact I think it caresses the relationship-conundrum between artist and art.
Since this is a posthumous collection and the poem is short, I’ll quote it in
its entirety. It’s called Suddenly and here it is,
there you are
in the
electric
eternity
of a dream.
Who shall I
tell them
you are
with your
long hair,
embodied light?
The poet’s question in the second stanza boasts of creative power and
intimates a plethora of alternatives, yet the poem’s feel is weightless and
lovely.
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