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I Knew Bukowski like You Knew a Rare Leaf:
Forty Poems in Three Acts
Author Harry Calhoun
How I Came to Know Harry
by R. C. Arquette

Harry's editor describes in the preface for the book how he had to sit down, sort, and find a theme to contain the forty poems included in this offering. I suppose it's natural for all of us to try and organize or arrange our world, our words into neat selections, but in this case the poems would have stood just as well on their own without need for any major assemblage.

I found the book not so much 'three acts' as three subjects which form the structure: Harry's mother, his Black Lab Alex, and his introspective look at the subject of death. All three of these are universal themes of love, loyalty, and dying. Harry has weaved them into vignettes. Each poem a snapshot in words of those moments of love, longing, fear, and eventually inner peace, which Harry and the rest of us are living through. Yet in sharing these images on the page he awakens memories of these very same moments in our own lives.

Harry writes in 'Animal nature'

the dog is worth the effort
at least he might someday listen
which my mother
dead or alive
would never do

Harry embellishes these themes with quiet images of nature. The rust and brown earth tones of a muted Fall palette or the dancing sunlight glowing through the greenery of a Spring afternoon.

Harry writes in 'Soft thoughts after midnight'

…think peacefully
of new-mown grass
asleep on soft moss
the river trickling
quietly by
the heart beats the eyes
still set
in their sockets
go back to sleep

Sometimes we float through somber memories that leave us uneasy, wrestling with soft spoken demons that seem more like old friends than nightmares. Then, in a few lines we can find ourselves scratching behind the ear of man's best friend, at ease with the world. It is this mixture of light and dark, ease and unease, now and then, that keeps us moving smoothly through Mr. Calhoun's world.

Harry writes in 'A death in the family'

…your mother 18 months under her marker
and since then everything seems more vital,
alive, not just nature, but the feelings
intense enough to evoke physical pain
and maybe you never understood before
how death can sometimes strike you
like a sharp intake of breath

He has reached inside and pulled out the inner workings of a man coming to grips with himself. We get to travel with him through these 40 poems, empathizing and embracing the human journey. He has done what every writer, every poet yearns to do; draw the reader into a familiar landscape.

I found myself moved through these pages collecting images, sounds, smells, textures as Harry weaved them into an enriching experience for the mind, heart, and spirit. I suspect, that like most writers, Harry will continue showing us his inner being, pouring his life out upon the page. If this is the case, I recommend we follow the author as he continues the adventure, for it is our adventure as well.

RCat Studios
The Best in Word and Image 'Since 1950'
The Critics Call it 'Creation Run Amok!'...
but what the hell do they know?!



Who is this Guy RCat?
R. C. Arquette, "RCat" to friends and fellow writers, is an aging hippie and practicing curmudgeon. He was dragged into the world, kicking and screaming, back in the middle of the last century; 1950 to be exact. His outburst clearly showed his disdain for reality at the earliest of stages. He grew up living in the sub-tropical splendor of the "Sunshine State," Florida, US of A, where he attended Jr. College and after twenty years received his AA degree; what can I say, life kept getting in the way.

Currently, his duties include acting as the head of a family consisting of an overworked wife, a vibrating teenaged son, and an over stimulated housecat. An elder daughter resides at some distance with her own family; a husband, two sons, and a daughter. As head of this merry band of pranksters, the illusionary aspects of his carefree life are played out on the stage of daily routine.

RCat is a self described "survivor," having lived through the "flower power" promises of the 1960's with the goals of world peace, universal brotherhood, free-love, and the legalization of certain organic herbs. Contrary to what others might say, he can still remember parts of it quite vividly. Sadly, those cosmic issues have now been reduced to the cliché. He now, more realistically, understands the world has gone quite mad and no longer cares to be a part of the continuing descent into oblivion. The thought of putting on a loincloth to venture forth and live out his days meditating in a tall tree in a distant forest sounds appealing. Of course, he isn't kidding himself. Chances are a noisy bunch of cretins will quickly invade the tree next to him. Ah well, such is the way of this planet we call home.

In the meantime, he scribbles poetry, short stories, and essays, as well as a choppy stream of drawings, cartoons and works of art. All done with a grin as meditative mental therapy in an effort to hold onto what little remains of his sanity. Enjoy him while you can, he is the quintessential endangered species.

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