Lois Read

Rookie - 105 Points (1/17/26 / Chicago, Illinois)

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Lois Read, retired Art Teacher, began writing poems in the 1980s, has been published in The Connecticut River Review, winning a 'best in issue' for her poem Barefoot Queen. She has published two chapbooks, is preparing to publish a third. more »

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  • William F Dougherty William F Dougherty (7/16/2013 4:13:00 PM)

    The Vibrant Palette of a Poet's Mind, July 16,2013
    By William F. Dougherty (West Hartford, CT United States) - See all my reviews
    (REAL NAME) This review is from: Breathing Color: Poems by Lois Read (Paperback)
    Lois Read's verbal brushwork in Breathing Color, a collection of poems that melds
    visual imagery, allusions to the visual arts, and the singing colors of diverse
    topographical or place poems, evokes the classical concept of ut picture poesis-
    a speaking picture. What radiates from her poems is not merely an impasto of
    description but the pulmonary [spiritual breath of life] processing of coloring vision.

    Like Arachne's singing tapestries, she hangs variegated scenes and topics from the museum
    of her mind- landscapes exhaled as the mood-scapes of her iridescent memory in arresting
    lines like the Easter event in which an angel dabs a paintbrush in liquid sunlight, swipes
    it against the twig-tops next to skunk cabbage: / a chartreuse shout/ in rose-brown woods.
    Wading into Lois Read's gallery of tones and techniques is, as she suggests in Purple
    Shorts, like a swim through raspberry swirls. Or to conclude, knitting diamonds of
    colors into Argyle Socks in Philosophy 101 that profundities do not suit everyone; that
    joy accrues from patterned descendants that found form as I struggled/ To be what I am not.
    Breathing Color is a joy of many hues.

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Best Poem of Lois Read

Do Not Go Gentle (Title From Dylan Thomas)

The lone red
most ordinary tulip
in the front garden
has surprisingly mmorphed
into something new
something exotic

as though it shed its
workday clothes
and donned
a red satin cloak with
black velvet sleeves edged in gold
such as a sultan
or oriental potentate
would wear.

In these, its last days
it stands alone still on
single stem amid spring sprouts
not decorously dropping petals
one be one, but
proudly, with grand hauteur
dispensing alms
to lesser beings,
reciting Dylan Thomas.

Read the full of Do Not Go Gentle (Title From Dylan Thomas)

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