Book Review: Lord of the Butterflies by Andrea Gibson

butterflies

That night when you kissed me, I left a poem in your mouth.

Release Date: November 27, 2018

Order On Amazon

Price: $13.01 (paperback)

Publisher: Button Poetry

Plot Summary:

Andrea Gibson’s latest collection is a masterful showcase from the poet whose writing and performances have captured the hearts of millions. With artful and nuanced looks at gender, romance, loss, and family, Lord of the Butterflies is a new peak in Gibson’s career. Each emotion here is deft and delicate, resting inside of imagery heavy enough to sink the heart while giving the body wings to soar.

Grade: A

Review:

Andrea Gibson has been one of the most potent voices in poetry for the LGBTQ community at large. Although since this genre of poetry (spoken poetry) is best consumed if heard live (or watching a video of one of their readings), I suggest that in conjunction to reading this book that you also see them live, because they’re a force to be reckoned with. The poetry comes alive in ways that wouldn’t be able to on print, making you feel just how raw, visceral, and gut-wrenching this experience can truly be.

Many of the topics they explore are things that society is still dealing with such as gender identity, gun control, homophobia, and mental illness. I’m usually not a huge fan of contemporary poets as for someone who majored in Classics, I’ve got a penchant for the likes of Charles Baudelaire, Poe, John Keats, and William Blake. However, much like Sylvia Plath in her days, Andrea Gibson has the courage to shed her skin and allow us to see what’s inside and challenging us to do the same.

I recommend this book if you’re okay with having to nurse a cracked heart afterward because Gibson’s poems cut deep.

*Thank you so much to NetGalley and Button Poetry for the digital copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!

 

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Poetry: Blood Remembers Even When You Don’t

smoke

I left lipstick imprints on your neck

We bathed in rose petals and strawberries

Champagne kisses

You were like a tormented Arthur Rimbaud

All the girls bursting with love for you

But you only had eyes for me

Baby, it wasn’t maybe

And I was living free like Carole Lombard

We didn’t know we were bound for heartbreak

The young are fearless

Baby, we were crazy

Wrapped in our intoxicating dreams of forever

Chasing each other in the night

Our hearts exploding with possibilities

Sometimes we look back and try to grasp

How we fell apart

But baby, it was never maybe

We’re immortal in the blood and memories we left behind.

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ATTENTION!

For a limited time, you can now request an early ARC of my upcoming poetry collection, “Bleed Like Me: Poems for the Broken” on NetGalley! You’ll find this and other poems in the book! You can pre-order the book on Amazon!

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Book Review: Witchcraft and Monsters by Kala Godin

monster

“We may be good at burying things. But we aren’t gravediggers.”

Release Date: January 21, 2019

Pre-Order on Amazon

Price: $4

Publisher: Patchwork Press

Plot Summary:

If there’s anything Kala knows, it’s monsters.
Witchcraft and Monsters is a debut poetry collection by Kala Godin.

Kala understands that the human body can be its own kind of monster. She knows the way strangers both see her and don’t.
There is magic in everything we do.
And there are monsters in each of us.

This collection is broken into five parts.
Witchcraft.
Fairytales.
Bodies.
Bad ideas.
Endings.

Grade: A

Review:

Ever since Rupi Kaur and Lang Leav came to the scene, they’ve officially made poetry cool and the rise of poetry collections that can be found today are astounding. Poetry is having a golden age again, mostly thanks to Instagram where people share and repost bite-size poems. Since so many poetry collections have adopted the simplicity that made both Kaur and Leav famous, I was expecting to get relatively short poems in Kala Godin’s Witchcraft and Monsters poetry collection, but that wasn’t the case at all. These poems are a bit lengthier than what the Instagram crowd is used to, but they’re way more up my alley than the tiny four sentence poems that are being vastly shared today over social media.

The book itself is relatively short (roughly 54 pages) but the poems contained within those pages are powerful and thought-provoking. Godin has broken down the collection in five parts: Witchcraft, Fairytales, Bodies, Bad Ideas, and Endings. Many of the poems found within this collection are dark (again a plus for me as I enjoy darker literature) and very relatable and well-written. I have a soft spot for Fairytales and Myths, and in Part 2, Godin explores certain Greek myths and popular fairytales. In The Big Book of Mythology, the poet questions Hera’s decision on remaining with Zeus when he’s a serial cheater and it all boils down to loyalty.

Another section that I enjoyed a lot was Part 3 that dealt with how we see ourselves (our bodies) and how that relates to how we relate with others. One poem in this section explored how someone in a wheelchair likens herself to Medusa because many avoid eye contact with her, just like people did with the Greek monster.

This was a very solid poetry collection, and I actually look forward to reading more poems or any other writing from this author in the future. If you’re into dark and sinister literature, mythology, or feminist-themed poetry, then this collection is simply perfect to add to your collection.

*Thank you so much to NetGalley and Patchwork Press for the digital ARC of this novel in exchange for an honest review!

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Poetry: Mephistopheles with Scabbed Wings

darkangel

It was a blue February night

When I first stumbled in your dream.

I felt awkward swaying to your song

As you pulled off my bruised wings.

You were as persuasive as Mephistopheles,

Digging your nail in the pit of my heart.

But I wanted you to plunge into my heart

Where you could hide your ethereal song,

So that I could become your dream

And would no longer need my wings

To soar into you every night,

Like a devious Mephistopheles.

I’ve been yearning to hear your song

Because it makes the blue night

Seem less long, as I dream

Of a raging Mephistopheles,

Who craves to clip my wings

And shatter my bloody heart.

Recently I feel that the night

Passes by slowly, as I lick my wings

Alone. Because Stupidbitch has now become your song.

I now invade you in your dream.

I’m like a horny Mephistopheles

Who wants to fuck your heart.

I know you feel invulnerable when you dream

Because it’s the only place where you can break my wings.

For I’ve got an asphalt heart

Gained from a previous lover with a tainted song

Who used to beat his pain into me every night

Until I began to perceive him as Mephistopheles.

Yes, I know that I’m your dream

But I’m afraid that you’ll want to chew my wings.

You love the taste of the jasmine night

Found within their enchanted song.

You need to run before your heart

Gets devoured by Mephistopheles.

I should’ve confessed in your dream that night

That your song cannot burn my wings

Because I am Mephistopheles ready to claw my way into your heart.

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Poetry: Mourning Glorie

bed

Photo courtesy of parisapartment.wordpress.com

These frigid sheets mourn your soul.

This barren bed cries your name.

There’s nothing left of you in me.

You tore every particle that belonged

To you away.

This pale white pillow misses the weight of your head.

These useless rose petals wait to fall upon you.

Loneliness wraps its icy claws around me.

Devouring me without mercy.

You’re no longer here to cling to.

You’re no longer here to move closer to.

This bed never seemed so vast—so endless—

Without you—it’s infinite.

I hide beneath the covers but still no warmth I feel.

This room is in eternal winter

Ever since you left.

These fragile sheets yearn for your body.

This immense bed bleeds your essence.

I’m waiting here for you.

I shall always remain here—

Waiting for your return.

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Poetry: Broken Doll

broken doll

Love has treated me
Like a toddler treats
Its toy.
That’s why my hair is tangled
and my limbs are broken.

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Poetry: A Haiku for all the Boys I’ve Kissed

kissing3

1.
You taste of ashen
smoke. I swallowed bright colored
pills. You were danger.

2.
The snow kissed my hair
You kissed my lips, magically
winter melted, now.

3.
You deserve more
than seventeen syllables
my beautiful love.

4.
In a dressing room
You stole a kiss, tore my
dress, and forgot her.

5.
Before you kissed my
lips, you kissed my nose, and I
fell for you so hard.

6.
Drowning in your lust,
The rain clung to my hair like
your skin clung to mine.

7.
He murmured, “Your bloke
is wrong. All you ever needed
is a man like me.”

8.
Your kiss was deadly,
oxygen escaped like a
thief, in the cold night.

9.
Fire, you burned me through
until there was nothing left
But naked white bones.

10.
Dressed as a doting
nurse, I pushed you against the
wall and claimed you as mine.

11.
Berlin is icy
on my bare limbs, please don’t let
go. I just want you.

12.
A cozy hotel
is where I dropped my dress, and
my bestfriend title.

13.
Give back my records,
Your calloused fingers tugged my
hair, the night sparked flames.

14.
You used to hate me.
But your tongue worshiped every
part of me, for days.

15.
We passed each other,
Pulled me in a soft embrace.
It cut me in two.

16.
Music, two a.m.
You so young, and I so wise.
I stole your CDs.

17.
Your music captured
me. I stumbled into you
and inhaled the stars.

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Welcome, new readers!

butterfly

Since I’ve been gaining more and more followers every day, I’ve decided to make a little impromptu post that kinda explains the blog and the direction of the blog and posting times!

First and foremost, THANK YOU for following The Inkblotters! I’m excited for every single follower and grateful that you’ve decided to follow the blog. When I decided to start a blog last year after many years of not really writing any articles or posts (I used to run a website called Plastic Venus where I interviewed various musicians, models, authors, actors, and other amazing creatives), I knew that I still wanted to include all my passions in one blog, hence why I decided to go with the lifestyle blog as opposed to others, where it chronicles my journey as a writer, but also individual.

Some of the subjects that I post a lot about are: skincare, healthy living/clean eating, beauty reviews, book reviews (usually with author interviews), writing, film reviews, some travel, some recipes, and relationships.

A few of my ongoing mini-series are: Skincare (where I talk about different ways to combat acne), My Bad Romance (this series details my experience with exes, told more as snapshots of my past), Beauty in Breakfast (I share recipes on skin-healthy foods to jump-start your day in a good way!), and Poetry (where I share poetry that I’ve written).

After a year of blogging, I’ve finally managed to figure out a posting schedule that would work for me. From the very beginning, I’ve always posted twice a week, but never on a specific day of the week. Although now I promise to post TWICE a week, with posts up on TUESDAYS and THURSDAYS.

In the meantime, the all-femme horror anthology that I edited last year, MY AMERICAN NIGHTMARE is currently on sale for 99 cents till May 19th! So, if you’re into horror, short stories, or just wanna support women authors, then pick up a copy today, here on Amazon!

Let me know what kind of blog posts you’d like to see more of, and I can see if I can explore new topics. Tell me in the comments below! Also, if anyone is interested in any guest posts or collaborations, please let me know in comments or email me at: azzurranox[@]yahoo.com.

And thank you again for following me! If you wish, follow me on Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest too!

xo

Azzurra Nox

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Poetry: Crashing Stars

stars

I was crashing stars before I met you,

Somehow it didn’t seem so self-destructive.

The rock star raped me of my heart,

Not many know that of me.

There’s a cut on the inside of my lip.

It’s like a wet passionate kiss that didn’t exist

But that still managed to fill my mouth with blood.

Your darkness is like the nocturne sky,

Beautiful and mesmerizing.

Enigmatic in its magic.

I was crashing stars before I met you.

And it felt quite sublime.

But your beauty gave me hope of

Perfect skies that parade paprika comets.

My past seems so distant whenever

Your beauty graces my eyes.

I was crashing stars before I met you.

But now I’m only gathering debris.

You’re a canvas of perfection,

From your azure eyes that sparkle with youth

To your candid complexion that’s pristine.

Not like me. I hide scars.

I was crashing stars before I met you.

It was a deadly pastime.

I was losing sense of time.

I’m heading towards a dying star.

But you fill me up with hope

That there’s still beauty in this world.

I was crashing stars before I met you.

It almost caused my demise.

It’s like a wet passionate kiss that never was

But that I can still taste the blood from

The cut it caused.

I was crashing stars before I met you.

And I thought I felt alright.

Until the stars robbed me of my beauty,

They were envious of my light.

Now your beauty radiates the light

I no longer possess.

And maybe, if I stand just close enough

To you, I’ll be able to regain

The light that you emanate.

I was crashing stars before I met you.

I was a dying star before I met you,

But your gentle beauty has filled me up with hope.

Now I’m on a rocket heading towards the brightest light.

By: Azzurra Nox

Poetry: Ashtray Heart

cig

I took a shortcut through blood to get back to you.

I knew that your gaping wounds were still fairly new

For you to be able to finally let it all go.

You need this injection to get through this night.

I really hope now that you adore me as much as your dragon

Because after three years of battling against it

I have nothing to show but pure frigid waters that hang like

Lonely icicles from my eyes.

But when you’ve been smoking for too long

And Memnoch is walking in your shoes,

The only thing that surrounds you is a musky-drugged fog.

While the stage that we’re on becomes a broken ashtray

And, I the protagonist, a butted Marlboro.

It’s only a matter of trust,” you say.

But when your favorite lover is White Eve instead of me

I do not have much trust left in me.

You carve my name into your arm

Thinking that I should be impressed.

But your gesture does not scream your love,

It merely whispers your derangement.

I wish I could drag you across filed nails,

So you would become pristine.

But I can only kiss you with these bruised lips,

Hoping that you will come around (for more).

Although you don’t seem to care

As you take another line from my breasts.

Your ocean eyes wander over space and time

Snatching the stoned affection you can find.

Please don’t die,” I beg you.

I know of your secret lovers

That you keep hidden beneath black satin covers.

They’re going to blow your mind one of these days

Just as they did with all the others.

If only I could bring it all back to you

But there’s nothing I can do

Because you’re Poe without a muse,

Who merely craves for silver rockets

And playing Russian roulette with five bullets.

The smoke rises up and around your solar plexus

All I am for you is a Plastic Venus,

Ideal for viewing but not for loving.

You bestow your worship to the Green Goddess instead

Because she can let you see Heaven and Hell in your bed.

But remember that I now hold the power

Because I’ve raped all your lovers.

You’ll need to beg me before I’ll shoot you up.

I know how to fight back with an empty gun loaded with placebos.

By: Azzurra Nox