Black Stars in a White Night Sky

I’ve decided I like my poetry the way I like my movies. Imagery and abstractions are fine, but I need something concrete to grasp, too. Humor is great, but only if it’s clever and not the same joke over and over. I like to think, but I don’t want to leave wondering what the heck just happened.

These things all sound obvious when I read them over, but too often when I read poetry I find myself bored, confused, and/or generally wondering what the fuss is about. So it’s a great pleasure when I find poetry that speaks to me.

I initially picked up Black Stars in a White Night Sky, by JonArno Lawson, because I liked the cover. Sherwin Tija’s graphic novel-ish illustrations are sprinkled throughout, too. (However, I'm ambivalent on what, if anything, they add to the reading experience.)

Once I opened it, I was hooked from the very first poem, “An Adventure Begins.” It does for this collection what Shel Silverstein’s lovely “Invitation” does for Where the Sidewalk Ends. It thrillingly beckons the reader onward, deeper into the book.

…When the smooth surface pops up with circling fins,
when soft drums surrender to bold violins,
when the light of the moon starts to shine on our skins,

an adventure begins.

Lawson’s poems are rife with word play: distinctive rhymes, phrases that turn back on themselves, tongue twisters. They demand to be read aloud. Many of the poems seem to have been written for the express purpose of delighting the ear, but the ones I liked most had thoughtful, sometimes serious, undercurrents touching on identity and the trials of growing up.

There’s “Water Waltz,” about a moment of elation before a dive, self-consciousness forgotten, and “There’s a Worm,” about the insecurities that eat at us from the inside out. “In the Time That It Takes” muses how quickly and devastatingly life can change. I love “The Old Man’s Lie,” with its supposition that even the most outrageous story can light us inside with belief, perhaps inspiration, and “Deer,” about—well, I should stop saying what these poems are “about.” I like too many of them to list, and it’s best left to the reader to decide their meaning.

Lawson also just sticks in some plain old jokes. I felt about eight years old laughing over “Eat a Duck,” which needs only a catchy tune to make it the perfect commercial jingle for, well, eating ducks. (It’s still in my head.) “Handsome Prince” turns the trope of the handsome prince kissing the sleeping princess firmly, delightfully on its head. “Humpty Dumpty” imagines a far different fate for our old egg friend than the usual.

As a collection, Black Stars in a White Night Sky succeeds because of its variety. It doesn’t stick strictly to the word play or strictly to imagery, to humor or seriousness. Audience-wise, I’d suggest it for upper middle grade readers. Many of the silly poems will appeal to younger readers, and some will speak to adults, but over all the content and sophistication puts it around fifth grade and up, for readers who have “graduated” from Jack Prelutsky.

Catch this week's Poetry Friday round-up at Semicolon!

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