Review of Retirement Clock: Poems 5, by Jim Bennett

We have all dabbled in "poetry." Don't deny it. It was okay. Because it came from deep within us - even though much of it was lousy as far as the correct pentameter, rhyme, or all the other rules about the real thing were concerned.

Well, I just read some poems of real-life, present-day Canadian poet, Jim Bennett.
I was even presumptuous enough to write "a review" of his latest volume, Retirement Clock: Poems 5. My only excuse for such arrogance is that I put down what I felt; because that's how I enjoy poetry; it's personal.

And here is said personal review:

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A Book of Haunting and Powerful Poetry

Retirement Clock: Poems 5

On my shelf, a heavy bookend holds treasured volumes tight against intrusion. There, they reign, my poets: Goethe, Schiller, Grillparzer. I grew up with them. Carl Sandburg, too, amuses; while Maya Angelou accuses. I love Poetry. It sings to me and stirs my soul.

Today, I shifted the heavy marble, for Jim Bennett, Canadian Poet, to take up residence among my favorites.

After several re-readings, Bennett’s fifth volume: Retirement Clock: Poems 5 was not an easy read, hitting home on so many fronts: Retiring from ‘being somebody,’ wilting away like autumn leaves, ashamed of our cruel world. Among the pages, there are four inter-connected poems in particular that made me stop and grieve; powerful beyond the thirteen years of passing.

If the poet will allow me to quote from The Path Now Taken. A misguided fanatic justifies his unthinkable act before Allah: “the path now chosen absolves your path behind.” Not until the following Burning “I am the flame,” did the imminent threat quiver, then horrify in Executed “can’t get out.” The last of these four poems, Speech to the Statue of Liberty “I saw the flame of freedom fail” ends with the pledge ‘we must prevail.’

I did not check pentameter, nor rhyme, which are technically perfect. I simply felt what I read. Some words swept over me at first, like that unexpected breaker on an unknown shore. But as I came to anticipate the next wave, moved back not to be swallowed up, followed it out into the surf to be taunted, I glimpsed precious pebbles underneath, watched blue-footed boobies soar above. This is today’s Poetry in all its glory, its depths, its bared feelings; haunting imagery of life passing...

Jim Bennett’s preceding four volumes are equally as powerful. I strongly recommend you spend some stirring hours in their company.

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Be sure to visit Jim's blog - I recently asked him some pressing questions in connection with nominating him for the "Liebster Award" (nobody ever gets to be the finalist). His answers are  interesting, if not as terse as his poetry.

I am sure he held back in deference of this pearl-wearing lady. http://jim-bennett-Blog

Find Jim’s Books at Amazon: Jim Bennett, Poet