In 2020 the world seemingly was put on pause or so it seemed. Fortunately, many poets took to ZOOM and widened not only their audience but the scope of their writing and support. My blessing from the pandemic was discovering the immensely talented Angelique Zobitz.
Now we are the beneficiary of Ms. Zobitz’s third book of poetry, SERAPHIM. This collection is divided into four sections, that works harmonically like a four-note chord, ending on a hopeful minor seventh. Angelique writes every poem with purpose, every stanza is about survival, and every line echo triumph.
The first section, you are your mother’s child, delves into childhood and adolescent.
The initial poem “Sister/Seraphim, Inextinguishable Light” is a rhythmic joy to read. The use of meter and the repetition of sound punctuates this poem. The line I constantly rest on is, “Black Barbies backlit by gas station fluorescence” and “the backbeat unbroken, backs unbroken, unfettered and unbothered in eight and sixteen time.” The playfulness of the sound of ‘b’ and use of ‘un’ is not only smart but more importantly it’s effective.
In the poem “Angelique, an Origin Story” she announces, “knew immediately that I didn’t need to be brought into this world by virgin or conceived as sacrifice.” This poem challenges our religion and renews our faith. “Love Letter to The Revolution No. 1” is a manifesto to discover and embrace ourselves. This poem left me breathless yet seeking to inhale it all the more! This section is replete with astonishing imagery and observation. “Grocery Shopping, Ars Poetica,” elevates testing watermelon to the only life lesson to know, “What’s ripe is sturdy and has resonance …”. “Because You Need to Learn“[‘s] unfiltered truth left me wondering how a writer can be so skillful and mesmerizingly transparent. In “Full Throated” I was shocked by the line “I never learned how to sweet and swallow bad produce.” The section ends with the poem “Mame Coumba Bang Speaks to The Revolution.” This poem is a renewal of faith and gives us new rituals of survival. WOW
Section two, we sang the stars.
In the second section it read, to me, like the angst and discovery of adolescent and young adulthood. Ms. Zobitz’s pen does not shy away from hard and controversial truth (read that as universal truth). Just read “A mouth Full of Prayers for Wendy Williams,” “Dust to Bones,” “On Sunday We Were All-American,” and “My Mama Got Her GED.” There are many standouts in this section, but I have to admit the redacted gem “Pyriscence” is my favorite. It is more of an unveiling of a truth as opposed to a whittling away at the poem, eliminating unneeded words. All words are needed for each segment to stand on its own while adding to the whole poem.
Section three, imperfect yet unbroken. The first poem in this section, “God: The Father,” hits so hard you almost need to be revived. The lines:
… having learned
He only made you to sing His praises.
I’m still recovering from the way these words slapped me! This section is stylistically different in its voice and never slows down. Every poem is like a body blow from a prize fighter (inference intended). When I read, “We Manage Limited Resources Against Unlimited Needs,” I had to just sit with it for a while. This section causes you to question faith until you find your own religion.
The collection ends/begins with lush and rain, bounty in lean.
You would think the collection would run out of steam, but this is when Angelique kicks it up a notch. “The Constant Lesson” perfectly speaks to the anxiety of parenthood, and the struggles of being oneself despite societal norms about gender and what beauty is. The use of ballet as a metaphor works splendidly. When reading “Bless,” I kept picturing it being a Rap performed by Biggy Smalls. The repetition of ‘bless the’ sounds like someone dropping a beat. There is an embarrassing wealth of outstanding poems in this section but for me the standout is “We ain’t never not been saints.” In true Ebonics fashion, the message is hidden to those who are more interested in grammar than communication. Ms. Zobitz is at her very best in this poem and from this poem is the ending line of my review of this stellar collection, “We pour into our half full vessels, try to fill them up on, hope and honey buns.”
elijah b pringle, III is American poet, editor, poetry critic, and lecturer from Philadelphia, PA. His works appears in several international anthologies: Compagnia de’ Colombari’s Whitman on Walls, 99 Poets for the 99 Percent, Selfhood, Moonstone Poetry Ink 25th Anniversary Anthology, and Aquarius Press critical acclaimed anthology on the continuation of the Black Arts Movement – Black Fire This Time. Overall, he has appeared in nearly 40 anthologies and journals. Constantly evolving and exploring, he has maintained a voice that consistently reveals his keen insight into the “human experiment”, as he would say.