Her poetry pieces always grab my eye and most times, my heart too. I’ve followed Alfa on social media for awhile before picking up her book. But, this book was worth reading, multiple times, and with each one, Alfa definitely stole my breath. So, things often start blurring together if I don’t take a break. I write myself, and I belong to the online poetry community. If you've been meaning to set foot into the world of contemporary poetry, do yourself and your heart a favor, and start here.īefore I begin my review, I’d like to preface it by saying that I’ve read a lot of poetry books lately. What power it is to hold words up to a reader so that they can see their own soul and their own story reflected back at them. And every time she echoed my own reactions, that these poems were written for us and our lives. I don't know how many of these poems I shared with my wife, but I can say that it was a lot. Alfa is noted for her romantic discourses on love, love lost, empowerment, and self-discovery, and any person with a thread of sensitivity in them and anyone that's experienced the turmoil and bounty of love will find numerous pieces in "Abandoned Breaths" that resonate loudly and clearly. You won't find explorations and studies of the world here, no observational poems about nature or food or architecture what you find here are poems that explore the human heart and soul. It's a blessing to have her work gathered in "Abandoned Breaths" her debut collection of poetry, quotes, and prose. I've followed Alfa for some time on various social media sites, and her touching poetry and anecdotes always pause my rapid scrolling. Here are the reviews of Ariel and What we Buried, just because and because this was no What We Buried : When things are inverted like that, I like it. Another thing, the title of every passage was at the footer instead of the header of the page. It's just that Sylvia Plath's and Rana Kelly's poetry blows me away. I just need to stop expecting every book of poems to be like Ariel, it's not healthy and it's unfair to other poets. How can it not be? Any book that starts with the word SQUALL can't be all bad, and it wasn't. I do however have hard time trusting people who only use their first name, like McG horrible director, I definitely mistrust him, and yes not the same thing, hehe.Ībandoned Breaths by Alfa is worth a read. I am talking about myself :P if that wasn't obvious, haha.īut what exactly does abandoned breaths mean? So says the guy who wrote a poem called A Posthumous Breath. I guess, where I am standing there is only one person I want to like, someone I have known most of my life, but not enough, not nearly enough, and it ain't a girl. This is not some sad nostalgia, this is not me reminiscing really, just coldness of this fact. There are certain timelines I must revisit. The place I am in right now is not the place I want to be, because where I want to be is not a place at all, but time. While, that serves a purpose, to be sure, just how receptive you are to that kinda insight depends on where you are in life. You know what, I certainly wasn't expecting nearly all of them to be about lovelorness. But most of them were bland, to be frank. Some of the entries were really good leaving me breathless, where I had to stop reading and just nod like, yeah ok that's good.
ABANDONED BREATHS BY ALPHA PDF SERIES
The content here isn't exactly poems, more like prose written entries that kinda reminded me of the Crank series but Crank books are more eloquent. In the end, getting consoled by words or something warm is the most you can for hope for in this world of whorl.
Some of the advice on letting go and getting better at loving yourself didn't irritate me, so there's that.
This won't heal you but the words within are comforting. This book of undead poems wasn't great by any consideration, obviously this writing exercise was cathartic for the author, clearly. I like things that are a bit different, I want different things now, this was different in a way that it wasn't, really. I have absorbed the pulse of the Universe." " I am a collection of everything that has touched my skin. When it comes to love, we all speak the same language. I release the heartache, in hopes that by doing so, these words will find other hearts and bring them a measure of comfort. I feel them emerging, and for once I do not stop them. The ones we wanted to say, but never got the chance?Ĭlinging, building, breathing, and aching to be heard. It is ruthless in its inquisition and stores every one of them in your soul. When someone chooses to vacate your life, they seldom take everything with them when they leave. What happens to the words that never escape the confines of heartbroken souls?
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