Another Year Living Under the Dragon Stars. By Jeff Cannon
I’ve learned to read Jeff Cannon; First a read through to get the general feel of the poem, then I go back and do a line-by-line slow read to try and get an idea of the poet’s feeling/motivation to have written these, invariably, graphic images of pain, mourning and revulsion that, to me, are reminiscent of the work of José Clemente Orozco.
"Day and night dance together in the silence of a desire thatsought more than a sip of pleasure”
When he launches against the dark soul of the “Caucasoid empire”, he does not pull back the punches, which, by the way, are not sterile or blind rage expressions of innocence lost or nostalgic feelings for a life that is no more. Jeff is as relentless as the sick system he indicts, with the big difference that the poet, unlike that corrupted and corrupting force, offers us a glimpse of hope in a humanity not quite totally lost, not quite totally empty.
I read his poetry and feel exhausted, but not drained, exposed but not shamed, edified but not through false hope, enlightened but not tempted into orthodoxy - and always in awe of someone who knows his self and is willing to expose himself in the splendor of his nakedness.
As I understand his poetic purpose, he does not intend to hang the reader out to dry and closer to suicide (personal or collective), but rather as he honestly exhibits the emperor without clothes, you see a tender and loving heart that’s beaconing us, warning us of the pitfalls, toils and snares we’ have already come through, not only not to stumble with the same rock time and again, but to remove or at least clearly mark the obstacles for the benefit of the reader.
His poetry is, therefore, one of deep compassion and love.
—Alfonso Maciel, Alfonso knows poetry, feels poetry, knows color, feels color; feels the color of people; the texture of their want for freedom to live the wondrous art of their lives.
I’ve learned to read Jeff Cannon; First a read through to get the general feel of the poem, then I go back and do a line-by-line slow read to try and get an idea of the poet’s feeling/motivation to have written these, invariably, graphic images of pain, mourning and revulsion that, to me, are reminiscent of the work of José Clemente Orozco.
"Day and night dance together in the silence of a desire thatsought more than a sip of pleasure”
When he launches against the dark soul of the “Caucasoid empire”, he does not pull back the punches, which, by the way, are not sterile or blind rage expressions of innocence lost or nostalgic feelings for a life that is no more. Jeff is as relentless as the sick system he indicts, with the big difference that the poet, unlike that corrupted and corrupting force, offers us a glimpse of hope in a humanity not quite totally lost, not quite totally empty.
I read his poetry and feel exhausted, but not drained, exposed but not shamed, edified but not through false hope, enlightened but not tempted into orthodoxy - and always in awe of someone who knows his self and is willing to expose himself in the splendor of his nakedness.
As I understand his poetic purpose, he does not intend to hang the reader out to dry and closer to suicide (personal or collective), but rather as he honestly exhibits the emperor without clothes, you see a tender and loving heart that’s beaconing us, warning us of the pitfalls, toils and snares we’ have already come through, not only not to stumble with the same rock time and again, but to remove or at least clearly mark the obstacles for the benefit of the reader.
His poetry is, therefore, one of deep compassion and love.
—Alfonso Maciel, Alfonso knows poetry, feels poetry, knows color, feels color; feels the color of people; the texture of their want for freedom to live the wondrous art of their lives.
I’ve learned to read Jeff Cannon; First a read through to get the general feel of the poem, then I go back and do a line-by-line slow read to try and get an idea of the poet’s feeling/motivation to have written these, invariably, graphic images of pain, mourning and revulsion that, to me, are reminiscent of the work of José Clemente Orozco.
"Day and night dance together in the silence of a desire thatsought more than a sip of pleasure”
When he launches against the dark soul of the “Caucasoid empire”, he does not pull back the punches, which, by the way, are not sterile or blind rage expressions of innocence lost or nostalgic feelings for a life that is no more. Jeff is as relentless as the sick system he indicts, with the big difference that the poet, unlike that corrupted and corrupting force, offers us a glimpse of hope in a humanity not quite totally lost, not quite totally empty.
I read his poetry and feel exhausted, but not drained, exposed but not shamed, edified but not through false hope, enlightened but not tempted into orthodoxy - and always in awe of someone who knows his self and is willing to expose himself in the splendor of his nakedness.
As I understand his poetic purpose, he does not intend to hang the reader out to dry and closer to suicide (personal or collective), but rather as he honestly exhibits the emperor without clothes, you see a tender and loving heart that’s beaconing us, warning us of the pitfalls, toils and snares we’ have already come through, not only not to stumble with the same rock time and again, but to remove or at least clearly mark the obstacles for the benefit of the reader.
His poetry is, therefore, one of deep compassion and love.
—Alfonso Maciel, Alfonso knows poetry, feels poetry, knows color, feels color; feels the color of people; the texture of their want for freedom to live the wondrous art of their lives.
“But, like, you need to see him live!” A sentiment I always feel like expressing, when considering poet Jeff Cannon. After ten years of watching him grind it out, legal pad in hand like a battle shield in love’s army, LIVE, ALIVE, orchestrating LIFE on stage, week in, week out, it’s hard to imagine that reading a collection of his work on page could be as satisfying as witnessing his gentle barbaric yawp from five to ten feet away. However, I found myself swept up with the work featured in the collection “Another Year of Living Under the Dragon Stars.” This sprawling multi-verse of musical word-notes lovingly hammered and graciously stammered out to all the heavens in true Ginsburg/Whitman fashion. Cannon’s imagery sequesters itself onto your imagination, his language syncopates with a heart that beats true and exists for all the reasons poetry should exist. Whether honoring love, standing up to hate, or simply exchanging spirits with a new friend on social media, Cannon’s work stands for all humanity and all that humanity can warble out of its exhausted beak, grateful for another day, grateful for another ear, another year. Read this out loud and listen.”—Alex Charalambides, Host, Curator: Dirty Gerund Poetry Show, Worcester, Massachusetts