David S. Pointer's Sundrenched Nanosilver

Mr. Pointer has been featured on Poet Hound before. His latest collection, Sundrenched Nanosilver, is published in Canada by Brian Wrixon Books. Mr. Pointer is no-holds-barred when it comes to his poems about politics, the armed forces, world relations and his own private life. Below I am happy to share a sample:

The Scrapper

He used to fight under antler chandeliers
sharp in his trotting razors, the attack

rooster now roams through discarded
nail kegs, egg crates, and cream cans,

unadorned claws, rescued and retired fire
atop a wood pile big as an Amish wagon.

This poem has an illustration of a rooster standing tall and reflects the stature of the former prize fighting rooster. I can picture the rooster fighting under the antler chandeliers and making out well enough against his opponent that somebody takes him to a safe place and retires him to what looks like a junkyard. Once a rooster that stood tall for battle it now roams in what I picture to be a spare and desolate landscape. The ending stanza leads me to imagine he is being thrown into a built-up fire to put an end to his misery of all the injuries of fighting in the ring. The poem is as stark and unadorned as its creature.



First Will and Word Testament

As curator for the
preservation of poetry
in my own home, I
hereby leave my little
girls everything—the
inner spirit’s porcelain
spy glass for special
investigations into any
hard or loving heart,
the inlaid dowry chest
for their choicest poems,
the rock crystal candle-
sticks for display on
the cedar tilt-top
tea table, the mahogany
bow-backed armchair
for after-hours reading.
and tonight, I leave
them with my wishful
words to help thread
their dreams with pink
party lanterns and
frosted glass fairy
lights for illuminating
blue river pebbles
floating through razor
rock rapids of REM
sleep where white
slipper shells slide
towards new aquamarine
avenues just one soft
wake up away.

I love this sweet poem about the poet and his daughters. I can picture the poet quietly peeking into his daughters’ room to look at their sleeping forms and thinking up this poem. It speaks for itself and I enjoy it very much.



Envy?

The rich grab up all the money
like a Mexican land grant, and
the bottom end poor are left
pondering early burial by
bottle,
crack pipe, or tiny paycheck,

Mitt Romney’s cross-border
bank roll
safe, secure, and insured as
his corporate raider retreats

This poem makes me smile because I, too, feel the squeeze of finances and I’m tired of seeing wealthy people in power make more money while the rest of us continue to be squeezed. Thanks for the righteousness, Mr. Pointer!


If you enjoyed this review, you may purchase a copy of David S. Pointer’s Sundrenched Nanosilver for $10.00 at:
http://www.blurb.com/b/3728190-sundrenched-nanosilver

Thanks always for reading, please drop in again tomorrow…