Sandra Simonds – författare

A fierce, visionary book-length poemBurning Oracle is a visionary, book-length poem told from the fractures of a world on fire where myth, memory, and contemporary life collide. Cassandra—seer, mother, survivor—wanders through forests of digital noise and historical trauma, her voice both ancient and urgently new. At the heart of the poem is a pilgrimage to the grave of poet Paul Celan where she traces personal loss within the wider context of inherited trauma—particularly the Holocaust—and seeks meaning in the act of remembering. As floods rise and fires rage, the personal and historical ignite a mythic voice. Through the commonplace of stained dresses, shattered screens, and supermarket aisles, Cassandra encounters figures like Goya, Reynard the fox, and Celan himself, weaving their stories into an intertextual, image-rich landscape. Burning Oracle is a feminist reckoning, a personal mythography, and a testament to the power of poetry to animate the archive of history, memory, and everyday life.[sample poem]*From IINo source, my Seine,a German one instead,Sixteen & reading Hölderlin's Der Rhein at the foot of a massive statue of Goethe and Schiller. Stupid anorexic American girl.But not really American. And not really French.And not really Turkish. And not really Syrian.And not really Spanish.And the tourists at the camp.Was I a tourist? Squeal of the cassette tape rewindingPink Floyd's The Wall. Ah, when you speak German, no one can tell you're American. When you speak English no one can tell you're French. Too sick to go on. Anne of Green Gables Figurines.I'm always too sick to go on, that'smy charm—a grayruin turned maroon turned black.*It is easier to go mad,Francisco says,than one might think. Easy to lose things.People too. Perhaps too easy.Step inside and you may notcome back.He listed the colors he liked:Black.Black.Black.Black.He told himself to stay inside the paintingof the chartreuse river,stay inside, Reader,and he found his arms roping and looping into Cassandra holding a tray of dead pigeons.

Sandra Simonds’s Triptychs is a brilliant intersection of poetic form and the passage of time.Crafted initially in strips handwritten on rolls of receipt paper obtained at a dollar store, then assembled into three textual columns that sit side-by-side on the page, these triptychs are joined or disjoined in several ways—through diction, through the special relation of words (evoking intimacy, touch or, in contrast, alienation), and through thematic similarities or dissimilarities. Each poem is wildly surprising, ranging from conversations between Baudelaire and Jayne Eyre to the enjoyment of macaroons.  As a result, the poems energize the confines of this writing space as they invite readers to recall painterly constructions and news headlines, wherein each pillar is in conversation with another, sequentially and simultaneously. With the same lyric attention found in all of Simonds’s poetry, the poems here mark an innovative shift in poetics that is both polyvocal and singular.

With breathtaking fervor, Sandra Simonds delivers an extended address to Orlando, which stands as both a city marked by vibrant promises fallen into betrayals and abuses and the specter of a past lover. Developing a series of recurring episodes and detailing an intricate network of relationships entangled in love, pain, anger, and compassion, this book boldly approaches personal trauma and memory in order to better understand the present.

With breathtaking fervor, Sandra Simonds delivers an extended address to Orlando, which stands as both a city marked by vibrant promises fallen into betrayals and abuses and the specter of a past lover. Developing a series of recurring episodes and detailing an intricate network of relationships entangled in love, pain, anger, and compassion, this book boldly approaches personal trauma and memory in order to better understand the present.