Notes from the Nethersphere

By Brian Paul Allison

This is my first book of poetry, which spans over twenty years of my young adult life. It is largely tongue-in-cheek, at times confessional, satirical, lyrical, formal, irreverent, humorous, soul-searching, diabolical... and maybe even inspirational. With the illustrations and heavy stylization, I am pretty sure it offers a unique voice to the modern poetry scene, for what it's worth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brian Paul Allison
• Release date: Aug 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310905360

Brian Paul Allison

I am an artist, author, and inspirationalist. I follow a path of holistic health and creativity. I recite poetry from memory in a process I call Poetry Theater (tour de force). My current project is a solo presentation of Shakespeare's 12th Night, abridged and modified as if told through the eyes of Fester, the Jester...

Book preview

Preface

This book of poetry had its origins almost twenty years ago. Over the course of that time I printed about 200 copies of it, and a few other titles, bound them by hand, folding and sewing the pages into sections, with covers made of clear-tape-laminated card stock, the heaviest my little printer could handle. Then using hot glue to hold it all together, I was able to share books with friends here and there; it was good old-fashioned self-publishing.

Those were some pretty good times, despite my persistent angst. In addition to running improv theater camps for teens, I have also been known to recite poetry at length, classic and modern, including some of my own, in a performance called: Poetry-Theater, Tour de Force. I’ve been called the Bard of the B—, which has stood for Bellefontaine, Berkshires, Berkshire Room (humorously), and I hope someday, Bard of the Biosphere (semi-seriously).

So this book started as a slow side-project, a kind of parody, a lark, largely tongue-in-cheek, humorous, lyrical, formal and free. I have tried to preserve the youthful exuberance characteristic of those early years, while reworking some of it for dignity’s sake. Maturity is a beautiful thing. I’d like to think I have acquired some by now.

Whatever the case, finally, a properly published edition with an ISBN and everything, maybe even get it listed in the Library of Congress someday. Why not? I am still thrilled at the opportunity to share my thoughts, and life, through writing, especially poetry, with even a single reader, anywhere. And as always, I hope you like it.

B A

[ Notes from the Nethersphere ]

At the Library with My Son

Look at him, my son there,

all of ten years,

Sweetly navigating his way

through the library aisles,

and the frightening world

of the child,

as he learns of of it.

Trying with all his small

and precious might,

to be something,

anything right.

As much out of fear,

more than respect,

hoping that I

might find him to be someone

never to neglect.

Book in hands,

eyes bright,

urging wordlessly, ‘please never cease in loving me,

or in seeing me as anything other than perfect.’

Morning slowly rising

morning, slowly rising,

why get out of bed?

coffee, hardly trying

to make it to my head,

no need for good morning

ignoring what you said.

just don’t feel like talking—

tongue all made of lead

mumble through the lethargy,

slowly moving through the briars.

no, I’ve not the time of day,

all words to me are liars.

I’ll make it through, I’ll find my way,

on tightly twisted wires,

having all as much to say

as muted members of a choir

to utter not a word today,

that’s to which I aspire.

dumbness, or the speech not made,

now that is something to admire.

how much, how much would I pay,

to have my tongue burned out with fire?