Swimming with Elephants Publications

an independent, not for profit, publishing agent focusing on supporting the working author and non-profit organizations


1 Comment

Wil Gibson just can’t quit…

…being phenomenal.

Of course, such a grand sweeping word as phenomenal fails to do Wil Gibson’s work, in his most recent published collection, any justice whatsoever. It’s my belief that a simpler word might better suffice, if only for the phenomenal simplicity of what Wil’s words make you feel. An oxymoronic statement, maybe, but it’s just that — the beautiful simplicity — which Wil brings to both written and performance poetry.

It’s his most recent publication with Swimming With Elephants Publications, Quitting smoking falling in and out of love, and other thoughts about death that draws close that beautiful simplicity. As life-changing as an arrival to a safe haven, or a departure from the only place you’ve ever known, reading this book was like coming home, wherever home may be. With a broad array of landscapes and cities throughout the United States mentioned, I felt a strong sense of connection to place in reading. It was, undoubtedly, a journey; more than that, it was a pilgrimage.

For that reason, this book needs to be savoured (like a cigarette, if you will, or five after you’ve quit for the umpteenth time). Not to say I didn’t have the urge to rush through each part and eat it all up, but I found it most enjoyed as a slow read, taking the time to dog-ear pages and underline phrases that struck me (and as I say to many writers: sorrynotsorry for dog-earring books, for lack of post-its to use as markholders, and for marking up your books — this, to me, is a testament of love for the work put in, as I find connection to it).

The contrast and connection between each section was so well-constructed, from a writing and editing standpoint, I could certainly see the love that was put into this book, too. From the numbered poems and the slow stream of falling in love over and over again in the first part, The part where I fall in love and a bunch of people I love die to the numbered days in the second part, The part where I quit smoking and more people I love die that are almost comical at times in their display (days 16-18, especially; any smoker or former smoke can certainly relate to the feeling of fuck you that Wil puts so adequately on the page), a conversational tone carries throughout.

Thinking back to when I first heard Wil perform, it’s that conversational tone that holds him as one of my most highly recommended poets for anybody first entering the slam/performance poetry scene; I believe there’s something unique in drawing your audience in without the grandeur of the typical “slam voice.” Instead, Wil’s poetry has always offered this drift back to something reminiscent of the “original” spoken word artists of the Beatnik movement. But there’s that modern touch of artistry in his work, too.

It’s in The part where I fall out of love and more people I love die where Wil’s artistry as a written poet really shines. With unexpected construct like the poem titled simply as Purple, to the constant self-recognition of using cliches to his best ability (and the simple notion of the necessity of cliches), there’s a heartwrenchingly beautiful notion presented in the level of vulnerability that Wil provides in the third and closing part of his collection. Here is vulnerability as a lover, as a smoker, as a writer, as a human. And isn’t that what writing really needs to be? Vulnerable conversations, the shared recognition that we’re all cliches, we’re all just quitting something to start again, that we’re all falling in and out of love with ourselves constantly; Wil’s poetry reminded me that we’re all on a phenomenal pilgrimage through life, and we’ll get there whenever we damn well please (and maybe quit smoking, eventually).

In parting, I would tell anybody skeptical not to be swayed by the ominous title of Wil’s most recent book; instead, let it be an offering that allows you to feel absolutely, phenomenally, simply… human.

You can find Wil’s book on Amazon and Goodreads, along with other books in the Swimming With Elephants Publications family. And don’t forget to keep up with him on his website and Instagram as he continues to tour and scatter his words across the country.

Advertisements


Leave a comment

Elegy for a Star Girl Review by Amanda Cartigiano

A Review of Elegy for a Star Girl

by Amanda Cartigiano

Each poem in Elegy for a Star Girl is categorized into three elements of existence: The Other World, The Here and Now, and Transcendence, and each poem is a combination of life experiences, Science Fiction, and space. These poems illustrate great depth within the soul, body, and mind, and the illuminating language and imagery express the universe as a metaphor. Life is questioned and answers are hard to find. Life is a journey that must be experienced from above. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

Pick up your copy at Amazon or Barnes and Noble today.


1 Comment

A Review: You Must be This Tall to Ride

You Must be This Tall to Ride

by SaraEve Fermin

A Review by Kevin Barger

The first time I remember seeing the words that make up the title of SaraEve Fermin’s book, You Must be This Tall to Ride, I was probably around eight years old. My parents had taken me and a couple of my friends to the state fair and I stood in a line with tickets in my hand for what felt like hours to be able to ride this massive pirate ship that rocked back and forth like it was being tossed around by waves at sea. It was basically just a giant boat shaped swing, but it would speed up and go higher and higher until it eventually would flip upside down and go around in a circle a couple of times before slowing back down and stopping. I remember pretending to be a pirate and saying “Arr!” a bunch of times while standing next to my slightly older and slightly taller friend. I remember getting up to the gate, standing beneath an outstretched wooden hooked pirate hand, and being an inch or two too short to ride. I remember my friend barely reaching it and the excitement in his eyes as he was let in the gate–and I remember the crushing disappointment I felt as I stood outside the fence watching him rock back and forth scared and laughing and turning slightly green.

You Must be This Tall to Ride reflects that sort of crushing disappointment of having to stand outside while watching the world go on around you. Here, though, having to stand apart is due to physical and mental illnesses requiring medications and surgeries. Split into two parts, it’s the poetry of the caged–the shaking of the bars. If you are not prepared it will wound you in the most beautiful of ways. Fermin does her due diligence, though, and prepares us for the journey ahead with the first several poems. She lets us know that, no matter how bad things seem, light can be found in the darkest of places. She lets us know that, even though we will be caged with her, there is beauty and love and laughter here. In the first poem, “After you think you are going to die and instead live…” she paints a picture of her lover who

…will preempt your every stubborn refusal
with a reason to live.
He will hang your wind chimes,
install a new showerhead so you are safe after surgery,
pay the stylist to fix your hair after you’ve cut it off to spite your face.

In the second poem “This is How I Own You” Fermin seems to define what the rest of the book is about stating:

Call this coming clean. Call it my start over,
my claiming. These scars. This drawer of
medication bottles, watch me fantasy them
into hope. Into holding on.

This is a fight song, and one of my personal favorite poems throughout the collection. Fermin reminds us to embrace what wounds us and celebrate our own survival. It’s a call to heal through bleeding. It’s a reminder that no matter what we have our breath. That we are all a “maker of star magic.”

The first half of the book also deals a lot with family. These are some of the darkest poems in the book, highlighting highly complex strained relationships between a mother and daughter and siblings. These are the poems that will wound you if you are not prepared. Here we see glimpses of the interplay of addiction and abuse and illness. We are told of the pain of having an absent father. We are told of the guilt felt for not being able to cure an addicted mother. In “For My Sister, The Youngest, Earnest Apologies” Fermin apologizes for these interplays even though she is just as much a victim of circumstance as her sister:

Sorry about the cops and EMTs that huffed and puffed outside the door like a bad fairy tale, sorry you knew the smell of hospitals well before you knew the smell of a classroom.

But, again, through these dark poems are moments of love and laughter. In “We Get Ice Cream, 2013” we see a family that, if only for 30 minutes, can ignore their demons just long enough to laugh. In “Sia Explains How My Mother Loved Me Like Singing” we see what motherhood should be with lines like:

Tough girl, pulled the thorn from
all your bad days, uncovered a better
version and a waterfall hook.

If the first half of the book deals with the external, of being caged and examining the people outside and the effect they have, the second half deals with the internal. These are more cerebral, focusing on the “I” instead of the “you.” In “But What You Could Be” the speaker asks what would happen if she got rid of everything she sees as a flaw. In “When I Tell Him ‘I Think of Dying Every Day’” we’re faced with the reality of fighting depression:

What I mean is,
I swallow these pills because
I love myself too much to let go,
I love the dark and sharp and red
because I enrage myself enough but
don’t know how to let go.

Music plays a big part in this collection with song lyrics peppered throughout along with quotes from tv shows like [H]ouse, m.d. and Doctor Who and authors like Stephen King. No one plays more of a role than enigmatic singer Sia, though, whose music is the subject of three poems. “Sia Teaches Me How to Fight My Way Through a Panic Attack and Get to the Bus on Time” is a semi-found poem brilliant in how it perfectly mimics the stuttering kind of speech one might experience during a panic attack:

quick step/ stop paying attention to everyone else/ I don’t care if you don’t look pretty/ us what you got left/ teeth/ giggling eyes/ a wig/ your entire range

The second half, while dealing a lot with mental illness, are also where poems of healing are found. Fermin showcases the moments when we have realized that life is never going to be perfect, but we strive to make it as good as it can be anyway. “How To Be Something Other Than” highlights this process by focusing on the little things only to learn to surrender:

…To cry with the door
open, to cry with abandon. How to learn
to love a plum again, to taste it sweet
and still warm from the tree. To surround
yourself in something other than damage
and yourself.

This is the message of You Must Be This Tall To Ride. That we will all continue to grow. That eventually we will be tall enough. That even if we don’t conquer our pasts or various demons completely, we have the capacity to live with them in ways where we can at least contain the daily damage they do by turning to face them–by surrendering to the fact that they are there.


Leave a comment

Amazon Reviews Needed

YouMustBeThisTallFront CoverWe are always looking for reviews on any of our 40 published books via Amazon or Goodreads.

Currently our search is for people to review SaraEve Fermin‘s latest publication You Must Be This Tall to Ride.

If you own this publication, please take a minute to visit Amazon or Goodreads and give it some stars. If you do not own this publication, order it today and get some reading down on your lazy cloudy afternoons.

Learn more about the publication here.


Leave a comment

People of the Sun Live at the Draft Station: A Review


People of the Sun / Gente del Sol

A Review

The People of the Sun is an emerging performance group made up of some very talented people credited with Albuquerque Fame.

15578612_10207301685051832_5927719407295171059_n

The group, a threesome at its core, consists of Jessica Helen Lopez, former ABQ Poet Laurette, a nationally recognized published author with West End Press and Swimming with Elephants Publications, Manuel Gonzalez, current ABQ Poet Laurette and youth advocate, also published by Swimming with Elephants Publications, and Glenn “Buddha” Benavidez, of Reviva and Stoic Frame fame who also performs solo as DJ Buddhafunk. With a core group of that quality, this newly formed performance group holds high promise as a potential powerhouse.

15541997_10207301684411816_2884333723261827441_nOn December 17th, the People of the Sun played their third show at the Draft Station in Albuquerque New Mexico. The venue offered a comfortable environment, good beer, and friendly enthusiastic patrons.

Opening with a meditative Chakra jam session and closing with a similar jam, the sandwich material was engaging, entertaining, varied, and compelling. Well received spoken word performances by Lopez and Gonzalez mixed with the professional beats of Benavidez created a show that is unique and inimitable.

15622196_10207301685131834_6545859473532425450_nBecause the group strives to represent community, other local poets were invited to perform with the group throughout the evening. Local poets, including Gina Marselle, Katrina K Guarascio, and Bill Nevins, fellow Reviva menstrual, Jerel Garcia, and local artist John Barney, who had a table in the corner where he created magnificent artistic renderings of the performances (represented in this review) throughout the evening, all contributed to the eclectic festivities of the evening.

The show ran roughly three hours with a couple of breaks for conversation and collaboration creating an incredible comfortable and open environment.

Find People of the Sun – Performance Art Collective on Facebook for more information and keep your eye open for future shows featuring this group in and around Albuquerque.