Insight Out: The Collected Poems of Sandra Allbee Lacy

By Sandra Allbee Lacy

Teacher, writer, poet, Sandra Allbee Lacy was born and raised in Alamosa, Colorado; has lived in Silverton and Mancos, Colorado; Southern and Central California; Seattle, Washington; Baltimore, Maryland, and Denver, Colorado where she and her husband, Chuck, currently reside. Of herself, she says:

My hair is salt and pepper;
Each silver strand is earned.
My eyes are jade and sparkling made,
And once, with passion burned.
Im tall enough to reach the ground
From where my shoulders are,
But far as I can stretch, Ive found
I cannot touch a star!
The greatest growth Ive made since birth
Is twofold, I would say:
The first, in gratefulness to pray;
The last, Alas! is girth!

Sandra Allbee Lacys Insight Out is a very strong collection, filled with surprises in form and in content and remarkable for its care, the deliberateness of its execution. Here we find the poets feelings, a wide range of them, feelings shaped into villanelle and sonnet and other forms arising organically from the poems matter and it is the shapeliness of the collection that is most immediately striking. There are faintly touched-on, ghostly narrative lines in the book the long course of love, the breath-taking interludes and there is the poets on-going dialogue with the Creator (in which she employs the two chief moods of the Psalmist, dismay and thanksgiving). But the center of the book, as it is the axis of each poem, is the commitment to a telling form for what the poem has to tell. In this sense, each poem and the collection as a whole are real achievements.

Henry Sloss

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 11, 2007
• ISBN: 9781469117058

Sandra Allbee Lacy

Bio Sketch Teacher, writer, poet, Sandra Allbee Lacy was born and raised in Alamosa, Colorado; has lived in Silverton and Mancos, Colorado; Southern and Central California; Seattle, Washington; Baltimore, Maryland, and Denver, Colorado where she and her husband, Chuck currently reside. Of herself, she says: My hair is salt and pepper; Each silver strand is earned. My eyes are jade and sparkling made, And once, with passion burned. I’m tall enough to reach the ground From where my shoulders are, But far as I can reach, I’ve found I cannot touch a star! The greatest growth I’ve made since birth Is twofold, I would say: The first, in gratefulness to pray; The last, Alas! is girth! Sandra Allbee Lacy’s Insight Out is a very strong collection, filled with surprises – in form and in content – and remarkable for its care, the deliberateness of its execution. Here we find the poet’s feelings, a wide range of them, feelings shaped into villanelle and sonnet and other forms arising organically from the poems’ matter — and it is the shapeliness of the collection that is most immediately striking. There are faintly touched-on, ghostly narrative lines in the book – the long course of love, the breath-taking interludes – and there is the poet’s on-going dialogue with the Creator (in which she employs the two chief moods of the Psalmist, dismay and thanksgiving). But the center of the book, as it is the axis of each poem, is the commitment to a telling form for what the poem has to tell. In this sense, each poem and the collection as a whole are real achievements. — Henry Sloss

Book preview

An Image Is

A word just ain’t an image

Till it becomes concrete:

Till you can see it walkin’,

Hear it talkin’ on the street.

And if it tends to smell a bit

As it comes lurching by,

Or tugs your sleeve to beg for coins,

Yes, Sir!

You’ve caught an image on the fly!

Now if this whole experience

Should make you taste your bile,

Why, you’ve just got another one!

So swallow hard, and

smile!

But if that word’s tremendous,

Or stupendous, or How quaint!

Or maybe That’s quite lovely, or

Damn! Can’t you show restraint?

By golly, you’ve got something,

But an image it just ain’t!

An image can’t be abstract.

No! It’s gotta be for real.

It’s something you can hear or see

Or taste or smell or feel!

Irregular Verbs

In trials these days, defendants pleaded,

When it used to be said that they pled.

If this new past-tense usage be heeded,

Then, here’s what there is to be said:

I eated my peas at dinner,

And then, I goed to bed;

I falled asleep so quickly,

I snored ere I lied down my head!

I’m left, then, with only one question:

Are irregular verbs now all DEAD?

The Enduring Quatrain

The quatrain was the favored verse

Of both Khayyám’s and Byron’s.

It was employed to couch the curse

Of Odysseus’ sly Sirens!

Shy Emily made use of it,

Though gave its rhymes her slant;

I’m told St. Lawrence braved the spit

With quatrains voiced in Chant!

I’d swear by all this precedent

Of bards both old and older,

That one employing this form’s bent

Is destined long to molder!

Scholarship

Ideate,

postulate,

promulgate:

Laureate!

A Song Within

There is a song within me crying to be sung,

But a soul from which it won’t be