Do you enjoy lyrical poems, the ones that trap music within imagery? Or perhaps you prefer poetry that paints the reality of life with a voice that steps outside ego, offering an honest depiction of now and then? Bruce Harris’s collection, "Raised Voices," captures it all. His poems range from light and fun to deeply reflective, making this a versatile collection that caters to diverse tastes. It's the type of book you can dip into for a lift, a smile, a memory nudge, or even a groan of recognition.
If you're like me, you have a few favourite poetry books on your shelf or saved on your Kindle that you occasionally revisit. Raised Voices is that type of book. Harris’s vision intrigues me as he captures evolving circumstances through his poetic lens.
Here are small excerpts from a few of my favourites:
In 'Millie Elliot, Learning to Drill', we meet a young ballet dancer with engineering aspirations:
“Millie shouts out 'Mum, I’m home’ and mutters 'at long last’,
her leotard carelessly flung on the front hall easy chair.
One more day as a ballet girl has eventually and painfully passed
and she can read again the mining books she keeps in her teenage lair.
A poster of a blasthole drill is secreted under her bed
and photos of heavy-duty stopers hidden under her unitard;
her future is clear enough in her mind even though it’s never been said
and isn’t likely soon to be; all mining talk has been barred."
Harris’s characters in 'The Day of the Dormouse' are so vivid, I wanted to paint them myself. Here’s a taste:
“Mad Hatters have days almost every other day,
on soap boxes, shouting, going on and on,
and no-one can doubt, in any possible way
the subjects that hatters have opinions on.
They’re loud and expressive, with eloquence and brain,
but unhappily, straying quite close to insane."
'A Celebrity Virus' could spark lively pub discussions or serve as a social commentary in art classes:
“Mothers, tensioned to weariest extremes,
just to hold back the humdrum day from anarchy;
fathers, rope-walking middle-aged bridges
over death chasms, leeched to bleeping machines;
youths, fresh dreams growing with limbs,
slapped savagely down by an angry reality;
girls, who have made themselves warm, misty places,
crushed that their beauty cannot be enough
and so, on it rumbles, the daily parade,
grotesque painted faces in tutored illusions picking their gold
from the back of the cash cows even as they are mooing their soft adulations."
Harris’s portrayals in 'Working Men's Club, Sunderland 1969' and 'Seventies Staffroom' are raw and evocative, evoking a strong emotional response. His depiction of lonely death is particularly poignant, capturing the honesty within each insightful thought, driven by his choice of words, rhyme, and metaphor. It’s a nod to a fine English voice that unveils the fun, harshness, and reality hidden within the daily drama of living.
Bruce Harris is also the editor of Writing Short Fiction, a free site offering advice and resources for short fiction writers. His book, Raised Voices, can be purchased from his website: www.bruceharris.org.
Marie Fitzpatrick