“Finding Out” Poems by John Cowhig

This is a book of “modern” poetry with some traditional techniques thrown in for added effect. While some uses of this blend work better than others, poetry is all about creativity, so this work is likely to appeal to a wider range of readers than most. Since I am an avowed fan of true poetic technique, my usual readers will not be surprised at my positive reaction.

A word about rhyme, a rarely used technique in modern poetry. Repeated patterns draw readers into closer emotional contact with the material. Used properly, rhyme is very effective, but overused, it can become boring. So, I enjoyed “Baby Boomer Ballad,” written in three-line stanzas, with the first two lines rhyming, but the third unrhymed. This draws us in but then gives us a little jolt as if to say, “listen to this line more carefully.” Once that triple pattern is set up, the balance works perfectly, and we stay connected for the full length of the poem. “The General” is another effective blend, and perhaps my favourite poem in the collection. It is written with both traditional rhyme and rhythm schemes but breaks out only for the punch line. Very effective.

On the other hand, there are a few works like “Looking Glass Witch” that set up a rhyme scheme and then break it, then return, then leave again, and I found it more difficult to stay connected.

“The Nurse” is a free verse poem beautifully adorned with imagery and precise descriptive vocabulary, as well as revealing a truly impressive personality.  “Flying” soars with an extended metaphor.

Mr. Cowhig also uses some more modern techniques, such as playing with the shape of the poem on the page.  I particularly liked “Unmanifest Chimes,” a poem about friendship and the nature of sound, laid out in the shape of a Buddhist chime. In contrast, “Friends Are My Home,” is spread across the page, and I can find no thematic reason for this fragmentation in a poem about friendship.

There are also flashes of humour (“Words That Mean Love”) and I wanted more. Least effective are poems like “What Buddha Taught Me,” where fancy trimmings cannot disguise academic discussion. But for the most part, Mr. Cowhig stays true to his theme:

     “…it’s not information that penetrates souls, it’s the invisible life in those words.”

In general, this work is noteworthy for its variety of styles, some of which are more accessible, some difficult to understand, some more emotional, others intellectual. Recommended for all poetry readers, especially those who like variety.

Four stars.