DESERT CANDLES
2019
DESERT CANDLES
( Click to Order )
Elina Petrova's "Desert Candles" burns with an inner light, as if every poem was lit from within. These wide-ranging poems confront political borders, psychological boundaries, and address graphic artworks that inspire transformative lyrics. The poems frankly confront faults, but also find blessings. For instance, in “Seraphim” she writes: “There is the galaxy / of my vices between us / yet there is grace / that persists." Ah, that we might all find such hard-to-obtain-but-revelatory balance in our own lives and art!
David Allen Sullivan,
“Strong-Armed Angels,” “Every Seed of the Pomegranate,” “Black Ice,” “Seed Shell Ash”
Desert Candles opens into a church somewhere in the desert Southwest. With Elina Petrova deftly in control as our guide, we absorb the textures of an American landscape, then time-travel to scenes from her native Ukraine—memories of her childhood, her parents, the grueling hardships endured in a country ground down by war, a childhood unfolding in the heart of conflict, as in this image, from “Donetsk Winter,” of a bombed apartment building: “A fuzzy blue slipper / dangled on the edge of the precipice / facing my school, in whose courtyard / I fed doves and famished cats, calling them / in Russian: guli-guli and kis-kis-kis.”
Petrova is the consummate observer, the consummate traveler, ever aware of dissonances—between momentary luxuries and sudden deprivations, between surface comforts and her persistent awareness that perhaps Bosch was right about the world wrought by humans. I sense an implicit message in Desert Candles’ seven chapters: our lives demand attention. These poems demand attention—and reward it. More often than not, when you reach a closing line, your eyes will move back to the opening. That’s the gift of reading Elina Petrova—poems that beckon from the shelf.
David Meischen,
Managing Editor, “Dos Gatos Press”
These poems pull you into the dust and beautiful desolation of Far West Texas—a separate state where many are concerned—and leave you dying to risk visiting there yourself. Elina Petrova sings hymns to this hard land, one of the last outposts of true silence, and its cactus-needle-edge of survival. She then seamlessly transitions to the rugged and war-torn fringes of Southern Russia and East Ukraine. She keeps us suspended between these two worlds until, finally, we realize we’re all sipping Irish Coffee together in one big-but-small, beautiful-but-harsh world. And that we’ll either save it together … or not.
Nathan Brown,
Oklahoma Poet Laureate 2013/2014, Winner of the Oklahoma Book Award
Once again the cosmopolitan and erudite Elina Petrova hosts us on a magic carpet ride of the breezes, vistas, and landmarks of the world. Dusty boots usher us to shrines, factories of filth, and everywhere in between. We learn to “pray with … skills of (y)our hands.” Earthly creatures teach us renewal and resurrection. We fight wars and enemies, passing on what endures. We take pride in and give thanks for our honest bread, discovering peace and solace in aging. In our final days, we pine for “a glass of Chablis and someone tender to lie with one last time.” With wonder and gratitude, we visit Nice, Helsinki, Paris, Venice, Prague, Asheville, Brooklyn and the boroughs, singing songs of all genres, celebrating and quaffing fruit of the vine. We commute, keep time, and save time with pedestrians in the inner cities, lounge around in the southern sun, accepting, nay, celebrating, that “poetry is an unauthorized fire.”
Jeff Santosuosso,
Editor, “Panoply”
ACHING MIRACLE
2015