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    A Wraith in the Tempest
    A Wraith in the Tempest
    A Wraith in the Tempest
    Ebook90 pages21 minutes

    A Wraith in the Tempest

    By Syril Quinn

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    About this ebook

    "Unapologetic and Visceral", Quinn's debut collection—A Wraith in the Tempest—is a reverie on life, death, and living on the hyphen, set in both the abstract and banal experiences of the every day and the unthinkable. With unique and moving accuracy, Quinn doesn't just explore the human condition but dissects the elements that make the difference between living and existing, those things that bring us forward and those that make us turn away. Each poem forces us to recognize that both the beauty and the trauma are equal parts of the revolution of being.

    Note to reader: Formatting of the original poems has been altered for the e-book publication. For original formatting, please see the print version. 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBlue Salmon Press
    Release dateSep 15, 2018
    ISBN9781732644311
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      Book preview

      A Wraith in the Tempest - Syril Quinn

      Blue Salmon Press

      Copyright © 2018 by Syril Quinn. All rights reserved.

      Printed in the United States of America.

      ––––––––

      Library of Congress Control Number:  2018956986

      Blue Salmon Press

      Tucson, Arizona

      www.bluesalmonpress.com

      ISBN: 978-1-7326443-0-4

      "To live is the rarest thing in the world.

      Most people exist, that is all."

      —Oscar Wilde

      Dedication to the Reader,

      My hope is that you find a few words in this collection that aide you in that

      harrowing task of living.

      No matter the wild, even the dense and impenetrable

      ends like a mystery.

      Dear Reader, here’s to you.

      And here’s to miracles in the jungle.

      CONTENTS

      The Tempest.....................11

      The Wraith.....................43

      The Tempest

      How it comes to pass

      it is

      then when we long

      hurriedly

      for

      the sound & smells

      of

      summer’s

      end

      and then

      autumn comes and then autumn comes

      and then autumn

      comes

      Between Summer and Autumn

      sometimes an oak

      drops a fistful

      to bring attention to her

      aching feet; and she’s a sulphurtopped

      thing struck in a field by herself

      with half a foot wedged

      into the loam and little jeremiads

      pour out like sweat of

      just about every wash

      of red—

      ruled by lines in the grass

      no complaint worth saying

      save the utter loneliness

      a heavy breeze reminds and

      the sounds of little things

      searching nectar. Even

      I unknowingly wish you were

      something other than the

      blood gold fire but—

      we both hear—that sound’s

      the violin bees

      through phonograph flowers

      playing a light mist of Django

      for your life

      on the hyphen.

      The Beauty of the Sopranist

      Once,

      an interview with contorted Hazel

      &

      he/she

      forgot to speak  except to say

      twists like

      mine are

      scarcely true

      but may be

      nature’s

      total

      prize.

      Written on a Napkin at a Diner

      now comes a

      time when

      we

      cannot

      linger

      look

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