The Smell of Ink/Lukten av Trykksverte

As she got famous for her poetry last year, I dedcided reading the poem The Hill We Climb by Amanda Gorman in book form and today I'll post my review. Description from Goodreads Amanda Gorman's powerful and historic poem "The Hill We Climb," read at President Joe Biden's inauguration, is now available as a collectible gift edition. On 20 January 2021, Amanda Gorman became the sixth and youngest poet to deliver a poetry reading at a presidential inauguration. Taking the stage after the 46th president of the United States, Joe Biden, Gorman captivated the nation and brought hope to viewers around the globe. Her poem "The Hill We Climb" can now be cherished in this special gift edition. Including an enduring foreword by Oprah Winfrey, this keepsake celebrates our promise and affirms the power of poetry. My Thoughts on the Poem Even if The Hill We Climb may have a few clichés in it, it's still powerful and being rhythmic without a strict metre. It also ...

For en stund siden leste jeg antologien Instruks i å skrive horedikt, med Soudabeh Alishahi og Asbjørn Øverås som redaktører og i dag kommer omtalen. Beskrivelse fra forlaget Norsk PEN arbeider for ytringsfrihet, og har for tredje gang invitert fribyforfattere i Norge til å delta i en antologi for å bli presentert for et norsk og internasjonalt publikum. Boken er tospråklig, på norsk og engelsk. For andre gang skjer en slik utgivelse i samarbeid med Communicatio forlag, som er det ledende forlaget når det gjelder utgivelser av fribyforfattere og andre 'fremmede stemmer' som er har søkt tilflukt i Norge. Den forrige antologien, "Under samme himmel / Under the same sky", utkom i 2012. Mer enn førti forfattere fra ulike land har funnet trygghet og arbeidsro i de norske fribyene. Et utvalg av dem blir presentert i årets antologi. Fribyforfatterne og andre 'fremmede stemmer' er en viktig tilvekst til norsk samtidslitteratur, og tydeliggjør at samtidslitteratu...

A while ago I was lucky enough to recieve an ARC of the story And We Call It Love by Amanda Vink through Netgalley. I read it shortly afterwards, but I haven't published my review until now. Description from Goodreads Clare and Zari are best friends. They write music together, go everywhere together, and they know everything about the other. At least they did before Zari started dating Dion. The more Zari falls for Dion, the less she has time for anything else. At first, Clare chalks it up to a new and exciting relationship, and she tries to be happy for her friend despite her loneliness. When Zari starts to show up to school with half-hidden bruises, Clare knows there's something darker about this relationship that has to be stopped. My Thoughts on the Book And We Call It Love is a sad, yet heartwarming story written in verse instead of prose. It gets the message through in a different way, but I wish the author could have been a bit better in writing poetry.

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet’s wings. I will arise and go now, for always night and day I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore; While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey, I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

Be perfect, make it otherwise. Yesterday is torn in shreds. Lightning’s thousand sulfur eyes Rip apart the breathing beds. Hear bones crack and pulverize. Doom creeps in on rubber treads. Countless overwrought housewives,  Minds unraveling like threads, Try lipstick shades to tranquilize Fears of age and general dreads. Sit tight, be perfect, swat the spies, Don’t take faucets for fountainheads. Drink tasty antidotes. Otherwise You and the werewolf: newlyweds.

All you see is a smiling young woman but did you know she is driven by pain in order to accomplish what she wants? The sorrow in her eyes the loss of happy times She wants to dance like nobody is watching All those years when she was told she was worthless has added fuel to the fire and soon she will say “Watch me now, you fools.”

In a world of decay the most beautiful thing of all is discoloured tulips A remnant of a lost but not forgotten spring

Side by side through the streets at midnight, Roaming together, Through the tumultuous night of London, In the miraculous April weather. Roaming together under the gaslight, Day’s work over, How the Spring calls to us, here in the city, Calls to the heart from the heart of a lover! Cool to the wind blows, fresh in our faces, Cleansing, entrancing, After the heat and the fumes and the footlights, Where you dance and I watch your dancing. Good it is to be here together, Good to be roaming, Even in London, even at midnight, Lover-like in a lover’s gloaming. You the dancer and I the dreamer, Children together, Wandering lost in the night of London, In the miraculous April weather.

They say ”sticks and bones may break bones, but words could never hurt you.” How wrong they were Not all people know words can cause invisible bruises calling us “fragile” when we cry but why should we put up with it? Being so-called “fragile” in a chaotic and cold hearted world is a good thing Who else will stop and smell the roses?

We have walked in Love's land a little way, We have learnt his lesson a little while, And shall we not part at the end of day, With a sigh, a smile? A little while in the shine of the sun, We were twined together, joined lips, forgot How the shadows fall when the day is done, And when Love is not. We have made no vows--there will none be broke, Our love was free as the wind on the hill, There was no word said we need wish unspoke, We have wrought no ill. So shall we not part at the end of day, Who have loved and lingered a little while, Join lips for the last time, go our way, With a sigh, a smile?

Standing silent in the background Wondering if anyone would notice Knowing that when the time is right The ten steps needed Will be a piece of cake All lights will be on the underdog Finally victorious Saying “I’m a lion, hear me roar”

All you wish for are the pretty things Roses, sunshine Yet have you forgotten Roses have thorns The sun feels better after rain And don’t forget A bit of rain makes The most beautiful rainbows You can’t have all the pretty things Without a little rain

They say they eyes are the window to the soul But don’t you want to look a bit further Beneath the soul When you first start looking? What a person is really made of? Is it complete darkness Or is it a glimmer of hope?