One will certainly feel emotionally exposed after considering Outside My Garret Window by Bolivar T. Caceres. Though the work is quite small in stature, the themes are rather grand in nature. Ah, to have the stoic patience forged only by time, as described in Saguaro. “I am a dried-up Saguaro, on a stratus day, arms high like a poppy goddess, solitary in a field of flickered flames, unscsathed, waiting – waiting – waiting…” Or to walk with such deep humility and awe in the broad footsteps of those that have come before us as in For the Love of Books. “Oh! How one’s stupidity is interminable in the presence of the renowned.” And while the sensitive Garret poet touches on some themes common in poetry, I’m certain I’ve never read a poem dedicated to a pesky house centipede before. Even in this, the author writes with a sense of wonder and respect, despite the attempt on the creepy crawly’s life. Particularly with that poem, readers will appreciate the pointed artworks, included to capitalize on volatile emotions.
Outside My Garret Window is a collection of poetry fashioned from a particularly old soul. Thoughtful and sincere, Caceres has a knack for resurrecting language from a bygone era with deliberate usage of mature words such as athwart, welkin, and escritoire. These otherwise archaic terms are in this landscape pointed, meaningful, and moving. Most of all, the poetry is heartfelt and hopeful. For a refreshing group of poems where a tweet comes only from the throat of a bird, Outside My Garret Window ably marries eloquence and history to produce a stimulating medley of poems.
