|
Ballad of Life: And Other Poems
by Ian Smiddy
47 Poems ~ 80 pages
Price: $8.00
Publisher: Kindle Direct Publishing
ISBN #: 9798334504547
To Order: Amazon.com
Reviewed by Michael Escoubas
It is a pleasure to review the debut collection of new and promising poet, Ian Smiddy. I lead with the collection’s first poem because it pulls back the curtain on Ian’s heart.
For Me
I learn,
I sing,
I work,
I try
And I push to my utmost best.
This is my life.
This is my song.
This is my effort.
This is my courage.
This is what makes me.
This is who I’ll always be.
I will always be myself.
I am who I am.
I may not be the newest,
I may not be the most direct,
I may not be the classical type,
But I am me.
And that’s all I can hope for.
The first thing I see is that Ian is committed to poetry. Poetry is his life, his song; poetry requires his best effort and calls for the utmost in courage. Good start. Second, I sense that Ian is committed to being his own person, he, not someone else, will define the parameters of his craft.
Ian Smiddy was reared and educated in rural Illinois. A soon-to-be engineering student at the University of Iowa, poetry has grown from a stress-relieving pastime into a life-giving passion. As I read through the collection, I sensed a “testing of the waters,” a bit of “tentativeness” in the writing. I sensed plenty of room for growth. Most significantly, I see creative potential.
Note on the Title
Ballads tell stories and are traditionally set to music. While the poems in Ian’s collection are not, strictly speaking, poems which conform to an ABCB rhyme scheme, the poet’s use of the term sets an expressive tone. He is singing the song of his life.
Examples
Ian’s poems reflect his interest in “ordinary” things. An observant writer, little escapes his notice. In titles such as “Warm Water,” “Trees do Sing,” “Winter in April,” “Shadow of a Hare,” and “Little Bluebird,” the poet injects fresh life into the commonplace.
From “Warm Water,” “It flushes ‘cross my body/ Like skates that melt the ice./ Fast and clean and swiftly so/ Leaving just a slice.” The poem continues, “There it goes again/ Leaving its streaked paint/ No color yet every color/ Spread across as faint.”
“A Dandelion,” which I reproduce in full, stands out as exemplary to the fusion of poetry and life for Ian Smiddy.
When the wind takes my seeds,
I shall still be beautiful.
When the gardeners uproot me,
I shall still be alive.
When the rains push me down,
I shall still be standing.
When the snow buries me,
I shall still be growing.
When the children pick me,
I shall still be one with the earth.
When they give me to their mother,
I shall still be freed from solitude.
When the world starts to go by,
I shall still be young.
When the water begins to vanish
I shall still be refreshed.
When my stem curls,
I shall still be happy.
When my life comes to an end,
I shall still be loved.
Ian Smiddy understands and is committed to the relationship of art to life. Poetry validates this poet’s life. In an age of widespread cynicism, Ian knows that “When the water begins to vanish/ I shall still be refreshed.”
Underpriced at just $8.00, this reviewer is pleased to have this fresh collection displayed on his shelf.
|
