Halberd Books vol. 1 by David M. Briggs
collecting 69 poems from 6 chapbooks:
• A Few Too Many Words About Me and You (Winter 2018)
• Speak Easier (Spring 2018)
• Chain Reactions (Summer 2021)
• Searching for the Words (Summer 2022)
• Songs of Captivity and Songs of Escape (Fall 2022)
• New and Selected Poems (Summer 2023)
Hardcover collection or individual paperback chapbooks available now at bit.ly/briggsbooks
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Lest we be accused of losing our focus on research by posting photos of (adorable!) cats, here is Dunigan's tortoise-shell cat, or, The life of Queen Tab and her kitten, a fully illustrated 8-page chapbook from McGill Library’s Chapbook Collection on JSTOR, which features nearly 1,000 chapbooks published in England, Scotland, Ireland, and the US in the 18th and 19th centuries. And yes, they're all free to read and download!
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A year and a week - 372 poems - now all in one PDF:
ertylerex .itch.io/day-poetry
ko-fi .com/s/dcf40775bb
patreon .com/posts/day-poetry-2023-78041331
If you give it a read (or just like these excerpts), let me know what you think. ID and transcripts are under the cut:
Image description: A crop of the cover of my poetry compilation. It is a photograph of a sun-gilded storm cloud swelling behind shadowed clouds. The text reads Day Poetry, a complete poem-a-day diary by ABV. The poem excerpts are as follow:
May 9, 2022
Even after all this time and change,
I'll tell you who I am in every certain term I have,
If you come to me through the ivory gate,
Know that I wear a crown of horn;
Put your arm around me if you will,
I am the shade that you recall,
If my voice can reach you still, listen well,
I mean not to deceive, not to mislead, not to withdraw;
You will leave me one more time,
And not look back before you reach the door,
Whosoever leads you now is no shade of mine,
If she remains, I am no more.
End first poem. The second poem follows:
June 26, 2022
I do not know about intelligent design. In an ultra-high-definition photograph of a bee,
I can see its salt-fired face, I know what techniques to recreate it with
On paper, canvas, woodblock, but I have a reference point, and, anyway,
They've been drawing bees for eight thousand years.
When a light falls evenly across my face, halving it, I can marvel
At the hidden symmetry, the same as a seedpod, as a mountain, as two near stars
That I see and think, how perfect, that I can reflect in my work and think, too prefect. When an egg balances on a spatula, when a leaf balances atop the water,
Rock atop rock, world atop the turtle, yes,
When water and wind make music, a kitten and fox sound human,
When the word comes after eight thousand years of language, the light comes after
Eight thousand light-years of distance, when I am half shadow,
I know all things, I see what it is, name it,
I walk around among them on Earth, which is everything,
Two near stars in my mind, receiving the light.
End second poem. Third poem follows:
July 22, 2022
You will pull me out of the water
and not find the end of me 'til
morning;
I kneel in the bottom of the boat,
teeth like embers in my mouth;
Your hands are cold.
End third poem. Fourth poem follows:
November 9, 2022
If I had five people I could trust, this would be different,
But I withdraw trust as easily as I fall asleep,
I lay in the dark listening
and wondering, do snowflakes make a sound
as they fall through the air,
or only when they hit the ground?
Trudging through the snow alone,
I fold my hands over my eyes against the light like my heart closing,
Every stride sours the stomach to think of them needing turned aside,
This would be different, this would be done, this shovel makes a dull thud against the ice
and my arms shake, do they make a sound
as they cut through the air,
or only when they hit the ground?
End fourth poem. Fifth poem follows:
December 15, 2022
Wind's outside, content to have all the world, save me,
And winter,
SHE DOES TURN IN HER SLEEP, softly, pianissimo,
Will she wake to find me here? Won't she, and know me,
And know the loss I suffer even as
SHE GIVES ME BACK THE LIGHT, slowly, adagissimo,
That was stolen before she ever woke?
We are always meeting at the end.
End fifth poem. Sixth poem follows:
January 27, 2023
One more absurd use of time, gone ahead with nothing to bring back,
I didn't plan this far ahead, my hopes are as far-flung as that star that
just went supernova, unreachable, (meaning) I cannot fold my mind
around the thought of distance into any shape that means anything,
I've travelled the same highway both ways for two decades already
without ever once wanting (wanting) to be anywhere else, is that
ambition? My understanding can unfold outward and take
sympathetic forms without knowing how one end of the
crease connects me to anything else, just like a hope
of a plan and the supernova a star never thinks
of becoming, (but then) I'm burnt down to
a fine, soft powder that darkens the
hand and shines just a little
in the sun.
End ID.
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My first novel is available for preorder! I also have a self-published poetry collection available on Amazon as well! I’m so excited for the release of What Came After. Here’s the synopsis:
To outsiders, Hannah has it all. She’s taking college classes, holding down a fun job, and dating one of the most sought-after boys in town. But Hannah has secrets—secrets about herself and her past, the people she’s hurt, and the people who want to hurt her.
When an unthinkable tragedy blurs the line between the natural and the supernatural, Hannah finds herself trapped between the world of the living and the dead.
As a spectator of the only life she’s ever known, Hannah watches her own murder investigation from a different dimension of life—a place where no one can see or hear her aside from a mysterious boy named Art.
Will Art be able to help Hannah uncover what is keeping her in limbo? Or is there more to the situation than either one of them dares to imagine?
Link to my website where you can find both books: https://amillienbooks.com/shop/
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