|Maja Dezulovic, author|
To begin with, I was greatly inspired by the words,
Somebody once told me that human life is cheap. I disagreed at first but I realized his point. People are cheap because we are an abundant commodity. Atrocities happen all over the world because we no longer value human life. It is up to each of us as individuals to make an impact and create more out of ourselves than the world may think we are worth.
And my enjoyment just carried on. I loved the simple and potent truth in He Called to Say His Mother Died. I was impressed by the natural circumstances, the point that things happen in a second and that there is this seeming paradox--someone is gone, that part is missing--but things go on, just the same. That's the momentum of life. It never stops.
I didn't know what to say so I just let out, "I'm so sorry. That's a shame." But before I could finish my condolences, he answered "It's okay. Life goes on. It all carries on just the same..."
25 year old female in Africa lingered in my thoughts, especially the ending line. I often think about the things people do, the reasons for them, and how desperation and a simple reaction to our own circumstances fuels so much. It paints a drastic, tragic picture. The human race is something that is always passionately in the war to survive, in one way or another, no matter what some may think.
Everyone’s in it for themselves. So is she.
Whatever work comes through.
So she can
And ensure her doomed offspring’s tomorrow.
One that gave me pause was Icon dedicated to Nelson Mandela. He was an amazing person. He did so much good. And when I heard about him occasionally, (he passed on, on Dec 5th last year) it was always with the feeling like I was hearing about someone who had made history, and yet was also in the act of making it still. As if history itself, at that second of hearing his name again, was present.
A poem that made me think of how I often feel, filled with frustration at my lack of progress (meaning not yet getting out on my own) were the words of Do You Know What It Feels Like?
Do you know?
That feeling of wanting to scream
and shout with all you've got,
throw about everything you see
and trash the place completely,
because it already looks like rubbish -
useless items that cannot help you nor feel with you.
What I really appreciated was the insight that followed it. The point. The thing that is always worth remembering.
Followed by growth.
That's the whole point, isn't it?
To grow, to love, to understand.
To write stupid poetry like this,
asking senseless questions because everybody who reads it will know.
I LOVED 7 Cents For Your Soul. Plain speaking and honest, it makes a point as to how people often view themselves, as cheap things not worth their own work and endeavors. Their own care.
But man, I really enjoyed Ruby In the Rough. It's so important, when we encounter those people who can see us for who we are, and they give us back the courage to keep going. To make the scales fall from our eyes. It is so very important. And crucial that we remember them.
In Maja's friendship poems, I appreciated her sharing her personal experiences and relationships. It touched me in a certain way, made me think of the individuality of many of the bonds we have with people. And what they do for us. One of the more memorable statements she made:
Ronnie was there for me at a time when I needed friendship and encouragement. Her advice led me to wise decisions and handling my life in a better manner. I once told Ronnie that I was afraid to do something. Her response was: “What you need is a bottle of guts.”
Amen to that. We all need friends to tell us that.
An excellent example of her poems reflecting the effect of society was Riding the Bullet To Your Brain.
And you’re stuck with a choice
Bookless, brainless Barbies
Who accept everything and laugh in pity and ignorance
And knowledge snobs
Who sip wine and flaunt their arrogance.
Give me my middle class
My middle class
So that I can know a little more, and care a little less.
How good is that? This was my favorite line in the entire poem. It wraps together many of the elements that I see all around, things I think about, sometimes very sorry for--other times just with scorn. The power of society comes from people who will or will not allow themselves to believe things that are real. All of us. We effect our own environment by what we do, what we say--and how hard we're willing to work to find out what is really worthwhile, what is true.
My last two favorites were the concluding poems, There Are No Words, and Where Am I Going? Harkening back to the themes of youth in 25, these were an excellent choice to end the book. Having addressed so many topics, these leave us with the personal thoughts of what we will make of ourselves. We have this knowledge of things that are good, others that just take away from life--so what will we make of ourselves? What will we do with our time?
I'm really looking forward to more work from Maja Dezulovic. Her words are never a disappointment. Like with anyone, some poems are better than others, but I didn't finish a book thinking, "Well, that was okay." I finished knowing it was well worth my time.
~E. C. Shore