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The Singing of the Wheels
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J. Brian
Long
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Though born in South Carolina and,
as a child, having taken up residence for extended periods of time
in both Florida and Texas, J Brian Long has spent most of his life
in eastern Tennessee. A hotel manager by trade, he also serves on
the board of directors for the Knoxville Writer’s Guild and
edits the poetry section of The Christian Guide. He is the
proud father of two sons, Nat and Tad, and keeps house with his
life’s love, Merrie, to whom he has been wed since 1988.
Among other things, he enjoys traveling, tennis, and sitting on
his porch swing with pen and paper in hand. J Brian Long began
writing in earnest in 1992, and has spent a great deal of effort
since then honing his craft through independent study, flagrant
imitation of poets he most admires, such as Sandburg, Naomi Nye,
Jill Alexander Essbaum, MacLeish, and Peter Ackroyd, and has come
to his first book as a result of the careful critique and guidance
given him by others more wise and experienced than he. Though his
work has appeared in various magazines and literary journals and
has now found a home with Wind Publications, he is not at all
satisfied with his poetry, and, in fact, does not consider a
single piece he has written as being “done”. He admits to a
great deal of uncertainty when it comes to his own poems, and even
more so to those written by others, but holds to the belief that
he will one day “write words that shake the earth.” In the
meantime, though, he attempts going about it one poem, one reader,
at a time.
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The Singing of the
Wheels is a striking debut by a gifted poet. With his memorable
language and sophisticated sound-play, J. Brian Long proves himself an
exceptional craftsman, but there is also plenty of heart in this
collection as we journey to where the sacred and profane intersect and
diverge in Long's wise, wide gaze.
-- Ron Rash
Mr. Long, I beg to differ. It isn't
"Somewhere Not Far" at all. No, these poems travel their own
great distances--to God and back, to Love and beyond it, through Loss
and past the Letting Go. And--best you believe it--there's danger on
this road. Be glad and beware it both; it's the landscape of the
breaking, the broken heart.
-- Jill Alexander Essbaum
Sustaining metaphors of journey, geography, and stillness, the poems
in J. Brian Long's The Singing of the Wheels are all "the
sounds of maps unfolding." Long's eye and ear on the natural
world infuse this remarkable first volume with an instinctive power
through which we join him in brilliant explorations of "the
makeshift, far-flung myth of us."
-- Claudia Emerson
From The Singing of the Wheels
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Mile 232
From the receiver, my son's voice
is an ache; it pops, sizzes: storms
somewhere between us. He tells me
I am missed. I tell him that
he is mist, that times I can see nothing
else, that I have caught sight of him
low in the ragweed hollows, glimpsed
him drifting among the umbral
ravels of rhododendron, brooding low
in the darkling laurel hells, that he has
made me brake, sudden, through the high,
hemmed passes. Just before we disconnect,
he asks if I have been writing (Yes.
Righting.) and how much further
I hope to go. I simply don't know.
I haven't yet made it. I can't turn around.
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