10/21/2011

Priests Of Poetry

By Sigita Kim


I was intrigued when I received a copy of this poetry chapbook for review. It isn't the typical poetry book. The author, 'Laughing' Larry Berger, improvised these poems onstage in front of an interactive audience in various coffee houses in Los Angeles in 1996.

Poetry as a therapy uses the traditional techniques of poetry-rhythm, sound, metaphor etc but the focus is the person writing or performing the poem. When it is used for healing, expression and growth is used as a tool in the hands of the individual.

A good example of the author's lighter poems is "Bubble Gum." The poem catches a moment, a single snapshot of pure joy. A recurring theme in this work is the idea that modern men are trapped, caged, slaves and prisoners of their own cars and apartments. One of the poems which exemplifies these ideas is "Leprosy."

Poetry is very efficient in self purgation in this modern time when been conducted as a therapy in an interactive process. It releases catharsis, enhances self awakening, gives new thoughts and hope to the user.

Poetry therapy goes different ways with the so called highly intellectual and selective course of the English literature class. The essence of it process begins in reaching a poem to the facilitated discussion of the readers-response to that poem. The poem in question may be the reader's piece or someone else's own. When such poem is been talked about thoughtfully by the patient in question to the therapist (who not so necessary), the after effect is always so interesting as one realizes that the user feels more lighter and indifferent about his or her present troubling circumstance instead the attention is fixed on solving the poem which similarly relates to that of the patients. The puzzle goes around to take care of the player. The same and even more efficient result is seen when it is a poem written by the patient.

There are a several memorable lines in this collection. I'm not sure if Berger meant to leave his best poem for last, but "Cold KFC in N.Y.C." was definitely the best for me.

The poem, which reads like a story, is about a man who has just been mugged in Grand Central. Having just missed death, he goes back to his crummy, cold flat and collapses from terror and exhaustion. Later he wakes up hungry and the only thing left in his fridge is some cold KFC leftovers. Berger ends the poem-and the book-with




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