DO I DREAM OR WAKE? Longer poems by DeWitt Henry
reviewed by Susan Isla Tepper
After finishing DeWitt Henry’s new poetry book Do I Dream Or Wake?, I began visualizing Edward Hopper’s doorways. Some flung open, others offering a glimpse inside or out, depending on the perspective of the particular painting. In this remarkable book perspective rules. There seems to be no censoring devices emanating from the poems. Henry, as almost a scientist here (deep in his examination of basic concepts in the book) takes a long look into his scope and offers the reader a “what you get is what you get” kind of mantra. The poems build on each other with titles such as “On Culture,” “Shofar,” “The Kindness of Strangers,”, and more. The third poem pulls from the book’s title Do I Dream or Wake? and examines the human experience from Henry’s perspective:
Eroticism? Spirit of flesh?
Religion of touch?
What is figure, what ground?
What is substantial,
and what dream?
Are dreams prophecy,
miracles, or self delusion? …
The poem then carries us into the realm of Romeo and Juliet, where he summarizes the story in his own distinctive voice, while assessing the validity of love and imagination:
Juliet awakens to the terrified
friar. Sees Romeo dead,
kisses his lips in hopes
of tasting poison—“Thy lips
are warm!”— and realizes everything.
Their love. How close they came.
His desperation in believing
her dead. She takes his dagger,
calls it ‘happy,’ meaning both
lucky and glad, and stabs
herself (becoming its ‘sheath’).
We can’t question her conviction…
Switching gears here, Henry’s long poem “On Migration” could be a course study unto itself. Migration has ignited a fire on both sides of the fence— the likes of which hasn’t been experienced in America since the great turn-of-the-century migrations. In my family, after the antipasto, spaghetti and meatballs were finished, and the wine and grapes were served, tales of the lower east side ghettos were lobbed across a big square dining table in my grandparents double-attached house in Queens— a huge step up for them. My husband, of Polish descent, still recalls walking a jagged route home from school, to avoid being beat up by boys of a different nationality.
On Migration
To e-migrate from homeland
is to im-migrate to new,
and settle, put down roots;
and Watertown, my adopted town,
west of Boston on the Charles,
prides itself on layered heritages.
Irish immigrants fled famine, Italians
poverty and war, Armenians genocide:
many were attracted here to industrial jobs at
Watertown Armory (munitions, atomic and otherwise),
Hood Rubber (sneakers, boots, and tires),
and Raytheon (radar, microwaves and Patriot missiles),
but even earlier the river-powered mills for paper,
for clocks, and for the Stanley Steamer…
Michele (Mike) was a contract plumber.
His cousin next door, taught science
at the middle school.
On the other side was Guisseppe,
a mailman. In back was a vegetable garden…
It all sounds so much better, easier, than what is currently transpiring— as people go to exhaustive lengths to enter America. We don’t know how this will all shake out in the end. Our only hope is a vibrant coat of many colors.
There is depth to this book, humor, a replay of episodes from the poet’s life, and much more. In our rapidly changing society, perspective is really all we have. In this book it has been used with great intelligence and sensitivity.
Pierian Springs Press
Hardback
$15.00
https://shop.ingramspark.com/b/084?params=IEDQaXwSW8jGzGUHqmaU4rEO8dMvFjkKJkcMZS73MJ4
6.14 x 9.21 inches
140 pages
ISBN: 978-1-953136-91-6
DeWitt Henry
