A book of lyrical poems in the best traditions of nature poetry, incorporating reflections on contemporary life and culture, by an internationally recognized author who has recently been translated into Polish.
“Giannetti digs deeply in to the essence, the core of things, as he tries to come to terms with the basic questions of our existence. Constantly seeking reconciliation with nature, he achieves amazing effects by combining in his lyricism the delight and admiration of natural beauty with primeval eschatological realizations. He is an American, but primarily a citizen of a planet orbiting in a larger universe.”
- Dariusz Lebioda, Editor of Termat (Polish periodical of arts and letters)
“The fashion in which Giannetti writes is painterly. Light fills his poetry as light magically fills the world. Like light his poetry allows a revealing into the good parts of the human condition that might otherwise be overlooked as common. The poems are an intimate engagement of life with language. In his poetry the spiritual is made visual with words.”
- Michael Basinski, Curator, The Poetry Collection, University at Buffalo
Sample Poems
Winter Vision
Winter trees,
their leafless branches brittle as thinning hair,
open the view from the path,
exposing the bare hills beyond,
now visible in the distance.
Summer’s cover of billowing,
dense green lushness
has given way
to grey, bony shapes,
the chisel of biting air,
the sculpture of the cold.
The scant light parceled out
in the shortened day
makes precious the blush of color
on the rosy cheeks of a sunrise
beckoning across the vacant landscape,
arousing my ardor, leaving a lust
to continue the journey
through whatever
remains of the day.
Lips
In the dusk of a pale grey day
on a winter walk in the park
I came upon the trunks
of several small trees stretching
across the top of a chain link fence
around a ball field.
Where they touched the fence,
their bark seemed like lava
that had once flowed
over the rail and was now
hardened in distended flaps,
lip-like, pursed tightly
over the cold metal.
Summer’s shade had hidden
those lips, veiling their grip
as the tree tops swayed to find
some opening to the light.
How easily missed on a stroll,
were it not now
for the leafless winter branches,
the bare spaces
exposing those lips
in their determined
kiss.
For more information visit www.robertmgiannetti.com
