Siren Calling
‘Siren Calling’ is a collection which explores embodied landscapes, both external and internal. Whether Linda Jackson is evoking ‘red-gold’ Uluru as it ‘pulses with colour’, the ‘chalice of iced sunlight’ which a glass transforms to, or to the potter’s kiln which recalls and replaces the flames of a war-torn country, all of them are alive with the sense of what it is to be human.
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Wanderlust Women: Extra BaggageThe three poets in this collection have a lot in common. They’re gritty, tough, their observation is born of personal experience, not all of it pleasant. That is recommendation enough but there are many moments too of pure revelation. Donna Campbell’s pearls brimming with moonlight that are the bi-product of pain, the stark beauty of Lesley Benzie’s poem about a father’s death ‘Fan she an her sester met their faither’s unbent gaze…’ and Linda Jackson picking up ‘petals of words from smart-dressed lovers’. Such simple beauty is not easily achieved. At its best poetry can be both empathetic and transformative. This is it, at its best.
(Hugh McMillan, poet)
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Songs for Lara
Jim Ferguson has ten books of poetry already under his belt and this latest collection is a most welcome addition to his vast repertoire. A particular favourite is Domestic Day, a slow meandering through house-hold chores that Ferguson turns into pleasures, whilst the making of soup becomes a meditation in nourishment, soup wae wine, a Vikings shield against the snowfall.
Songs for Lara is more than just a love story, it’s a story of love found between the lines, or in the secret places where we sometimes fear to venture.
(Donna Campbell, poet)
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The Final Midnight
A first collection of poetry by George Gibson, a writer who writes about musicians and other literary influences in a way that carries their language through his own. From Jazz to the Doors, they are all here.
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WTF is normal anyway?
If you want your poetry as a lulled accompaniment to whatever you happen to be doing - don't read Jo Gilbert. If you like your Doric couthie and couth, paired with a wee sepia photo - don't read Jo Gilbert. But if you need poetry that makes you 'Get aff that fuckin horse. Now!' , and opens your 'kohl clarted eyes' to garr ye greet and laugh aloud...then read Jo Gilbert. And what a titular poem. Three lines, punching hard with every word. What a debut.
(Beth McDonough, writer)
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