It’s officially here! The long awaited Spring/Summer 2021 issue, our second issue, of Humana Obscura is now available! We are incredibly impressed by the quality of work in this beautiful issue, and sincerely welcome all of our contributors and new readers to this creative community we’ve built—and hope to continue to expand. Without your work, this [...]
🔷 BOOK: Measures
🔷 AUTHOR: B. L. Bruce
Measures is the latest poetry collection book written by an award winning author of The Weight of Snow and The Starling’s Song.
In this book, many poems are micropoetry and I loved them. Within just few words, author has expressed deepest emotions.
I watch you dream,
and outside it
begins to snow.
I loved the poem Winter that reminded me of Snow, dreams. With the poem Submission, I think author has expressed heart of many people. White Lillies is a gem in this anthology.
If you love to read poetry then go ahead with this collection. I enjoyed this book with a cup of coffee while sitting in my front porch. Language of the book is lucid. Even if you are not an avid poetry reader, you could follow the poems.
My Rating: 4.5/5
B. L. Bruce
Measures is the first book that I have read written by the author B. L. Bruce. It is a poetry collection of 58 poems. Some are micropoetry and some are even written in the Haiku format. All the poems follow a similar alignment.
Autumn poems took me down few months back and reminded me of this beautiful season and of cold morning air. Some poems explores the relationship expectations like to be loved by someone deeply.
Poetry lovers could relate to many poems from the collection. Some poems even made me emotional while reading. Cover of the book is captivating. I finished this collection in three sittings. If you want to be lost in the lyrical world, then this poetry book is a perfect escape from monotonous life.
My Rating: 5/5
Cachagua Road From the low bridge over the river you spoke,blue lupines rising silently beneath the oaks,weighed with the damp of evening.Your words were carried away downstream,lost to me. I felt a sadness,heavy as stones.I listen—bending of waterover rocks, wind in the armsof the trees. I’ve learned the voicesof the robin, the towhee,thrasher—useless except forthe [...]
Heavy blooms expose
their fleshy bodies
in such enterprise
among the dunes—
as mine to yours.
Such immeasurable delight:
the pale lips of the iris
curling to the listless sky.
In its assault on the shore,
the throbbing surf
folds again and again.
Somewhere through the mist
a gull is flying low,
Award-winning author and Pushcart Prize nominee, California poet Bri Bruce (writing as B. L. Bruce) has been called the “heiress of Mary Oliver.” With a bachelor’s degree in literature and creative writing from the University of California at Santa Cruz, her work has appeared in dozens of anthologies, magazines, and literary publications, including The Wayfarer Journal, Canary, Northwind Magazine, The Soundings Review, and The Monterey Poetry Review, among many others. Most recently her work has appeared in the American Haiku Society’s Frogpond Journal, The Remnant Archive, Emerge Literary Journal, and Le Merle Poetry…
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Near Window is a zine exhibiting a view from behind the nearest window out onto the world beyond; or, a view inwards from the outside. I'm excited to have two of my photographs, "Blurred Row of Trees" and "White Duck" published in their latest issue.
NORTH For a moment in the calm,between gusts of wind:the faint push of air beneath wing.The northern harrier drifts abovea flowering field of yellow mustard. Bobbing among the eddies,the murre learn centuriesof the waterwork and currents,driven unthinking by whatwe cannot know. Farther still, the north horizonis choked with fog;the clover lies trampled by salt windalong [...]
For a moment in the calm,
between gusts of wind:
the faint push of air beneath wing.
The northern harrier drifts above
a flowering field of yellow mustard.
Bobbing among the eddies,
the murre learn centuries
of the waterwork and currents,
driven unthinking by what
we cannot know.
Farther still, the north horizon
is choked with fog;
the clover lies trampled by salt wind
along the clifftop.
I turn my face into the sun.
Were it not for some small
I’d have lifted my arms
and fallen into the sea.
Award-winning author and Pushcart Prize nominee, California poet Bri Bruce (writing as B. L. Bruce) has been called the “heiress of Mary Oliver.” With a bachelor’s degree in literature and creative writing from the University of California at Santa Cruz, her work has appeared in dozens of anthologies, magazines, and literary publications, includingThe Wayfarer Journal, Canary, Northwind…
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More autumn months graced by frost,the flowering quince dies. I set outto walk the edge of the woods,think of all the pleasures in being alone. c. B. L. BruceFirst published by the Soundings Review PURCHASE COLLECTION Follow B. L. Bruce Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thepoesis/Twitter: https://twitter.com/the_poesis