By Laura Wynkoop
"For all who bravely dare
To learn this haunted sonnet,
May you be made aware
A spell’s been forged upon it."
From spiders to mummies to the elusive Boogeyman, those pages carry a bit of of every thing creepy, crawly, and simply simple spooky. With a pinch of terror and a touch of humor, readers can be forged right into a shadowy international, the place creatures lurk and nightmares live. Surprises abound on each web page, ready to drag in readers...sometimes literally...
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The “exquisite and haunting” (Booklist) selection of poems equipped round the language and mystique of yankee captivity narratives during which Sheck enters the brilliant existence we are living inside of our personal minds and selves, and takes us into the mysterious underside of recognition and selfhood.
From Publishers Weekly
The squat, long-lined poems of Sheck's 5th assortment meditate on American captivity narratives—stories well known within the past due seventeenth century, akin to Mary Rowlandson's a story of the Captivity and recovery of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson, usually approximately abduction by way of local Americans—as metaphors for the constraints of recognition and the poetry that attempts to render it. those narratives are at once addressed within the 17 "Removes," a time period taken from Rowlandson's publication. in other places, Sheck (Black sequence) references different singularly American figures, together with Dickinson, Stevens, William James and Emerson. Sheck relishes the "slow conversion of myself into nothingness," an important (and usually violent) step towards figuring out "this chain of emotions during which we suggest (if it really is that) a self. " those poems from time to time appear to court docket vagueness—words similar to "scatter," "broken," and "elsewhere" are between Sheck's so much particular descriptive phrases. a few readers may perhaps locate that Sheck exhausts her issues and the time from which they originate; modernity appears to be like from time to time, and while it does—in the shape of "a visual display unit candescing," the human genome and one "marketing director"—the impression is jarring. all through, besides the fact that, Sheck's lengthy traces maintain a chic uncertainty, and her fractured syntax calls either Dickinson and Gerard Manley Hopkins to brain: "The seconds slant and coarse with split-asunder. "
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Extra info for An eyeball in my garden: and other spine-tingling poems
41 Our Neighborhood By Kevin McNamee Welcome to our neighborhood Where frightful things are seen, When you go trick-or-treating Down our street on Halloween. We’ve candy from the dollar store, At five bags for a buck. That’s what it cost ten years ago. I think it’s moving—yuck! Ms. Johnson saves her pennies, Which she gives out as a treat. I think she stores them in her shoes— Her pennies smell like feet! 42 The dentist hands out dental floss, But never any sweets. And crazy Mr. Haggerty Gives grocery receipts.
That’s truly chilling,” cried the witch. “That’s such a spooky creature. ” gasped the troll. “If I could go, I would. ” 52 The Highland Train By Laura Wynkoop One hundred years ago tonight, When clouds obscured the heavens’ light, The track was slick and silver-white Along this cold plateau. The Highland Train was running late. The track curved west; the train went straight. On screaming brakes, it met its fate Beneath the falling snow. Now once a year, you hear click-clack, And catch a glimpse of gleaming black.
The local townsfolk, young and old, all know the well is cursed, And those who dare to make a wish had best expect the worst. But still each year, unheeding children close their eyes and grin. They focus on their deepest dreams and throw their pennies in. Before their pennies plunge too far, those children hear the sound Of grumbling growls and scraping claws from deep beneath the ground. A slimy, withered hand appears with skin a ghostly gray. The children freeze—they barely breathe, too scared to run away.