Joshua Gray on Yvette Neisser Moreno




Yvette Neisser Moreno, Grip.  Gival Press, 2012. 



The Gripping Moments of Yvette Neisser Moreno

 

Yvette Neisser Moreno's first book of her own poetry, titled Grip, captures moments of suspended time. Some of them are journeys, including inner ones, while others are just strong impressions and encounters.  From the poem that opens the collection —and the opening line of the poem—she makes a declaration of beginnings. With it, and the imagery that follows, readers can only continue to the end of the entire collection.

 

This, not Spring, is the time of beginnings.

A celestial hush has descended,

wrenching the wind to stillness,

startling birds back to their roots,

beaks clamped shut

to empty the moment of sound.

 

—From "The Stillness of Snow"

 

From the aftereffects of September 11, 2001, to moments of insomnia, from travels to other countries and travels within herself, her occasional poetry is stunning in its brevity. She does not spell anything out, never offers a moral, but just lets language and imagery make sense of the occasion she shares. In this way she reminds me of Billy Collins, but her words also remind me of those she has translated, works of others she has made her own sense of. One of the most memorable poems in the collection is a mere question from a friend. A question of religion and politics. A question of love for others. A question of friendship.

 

Fadi drew on his smoke.

Do you support Israel?

 

I took a deep breath,

listened to the desert hum,

 

felt the weight of silence.

Would the night weave my love

 

for Israel and Palestine

into some kind of logic?

 

I hoped the truth would be enough.

Yes, and the Palestinian cause.

 

—From "A Question of Friendship"

 

After the introduction of place and time comes this excerpt. After her answer the suspense of a friend's reaction is gripping all the way to the poem's concluding line.

 

Every poem grips the reader in some way. Whether her travels take her to Egypt or nearby neighborhoods, whether she tells us of the loved one who has passed away or an old Oak tree still alive, her language demands attention.

 

how it grounds itself, how the base broadens

and flares into a pleated skirt of roots

creeping farther and farther out,

molding to the slope of earth.

 

—From "Every Gnarled Inch"

 

These poems are occasional—they are small moments of her life—but are often about big issues. Short-film filmmakers might love to make films about these poems. If readers of poetry love poems like these, this collection deserves a place on the bookshelf.




Joshua Gray is a native of the Washington DC area, but recently moved to India with his family. He was the DC Poetry Examiner for Examiner.com for two years, where he wrote reviews of poetry books by local poets as well as articles on the local poetry scene. Once upon a time he "busted" (reviewed) poems on his blog Poembuster, but gave that up a few years ago; however, he now reviews a poem a month for Poetsandartists.com.

 










                                    

 

Home
Current Issue
Submissions
Contributors' Notes


Email this poem Printer friendly page

A CLOSER LOOK: Linda Pastan

Don Berger

George Bishop

Lavina Blossom

Judy Brackett

Shirley J. Brewer

Mark Jay Brewin, Jr.

Emily Rose Cole

Philip Dacey

Colin Dodds

Phillip A. Ellis

Susan Mitchell Evans

Roger Fogelman

Lucia Galloway

Joshua Gray on Yvette Neisser Moreno

William Greenway

David Brendan Hopes

Kinzy Janssen

Carol J. Jennings

Judy Kronenfeld

Hailey Leithauser on James Arthur

Elaine Magarrell

Victoria Kohn Michels

Simon Perchik

Allan Peterson

Roger Pfingston

W.J. Preston

Oliver Rice

Michael Salcman

Catherine Simpson

Lee Slonimsky

Katherine Smith

Myrna Stone

Robert Joe Stout

Matthew Thorburn

Lawrence Wray

Remembering Ed Zimmerman

More

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

       

 

 

 

 

 


Last Updated: Feb 17, 2020 - 3:08:33 PM

Copyright 2005 - 2019 Cook Communication.