By Patrick Russell LeBeau
Stands by myself, Faces, and different Poems, Patrick LeBeau's first assortment, is a self-reflective paintings on identification, ancestry, and relatives relationships voiced in 3 components. 'Stands Alone,' the 1st voice heard, is the singular 'he'—an entity misplaced in a sea of loneliness, loneliness that freezes progress and stagnates creativity. It areas the self in a dizzy truth of feelings and knee-jerk reactions, bring to an end from the group. 'He' wanders, looking connections to land and neighborhood, yet frequently discovering confusion and depression and, sometimes, readability and humor. on my own, he fends by myself and suffers judgements made with simply his tips. The voice partly strikes the 'he' to embody group and a spot of id exploration and discovery. A language is realized. A language of news that allows him to hyperlink his personal own historical past to a bigger local neighborhood and event. via this stumbled on courting with ancestry and relations, 'he' turns into receptive to non secular teachings and cultural practices. half 3 units 'he' unfastened to consolidate the 'pieces' of his stories and stories into one, huge inventive internet of experimentation and shape. wanting inclusion of private historical past and reflections despite notions of fine or undesirable, confident or unfavourable, 'he' eventually settles on a dermis he can stay with and within.
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Additional info for Stands alone, Faces, and other poems
Hey, darling! " You can imagine the uproar, The screaming and yelling. He did not understand. Page 82 He cried. He only wanted the tree-house back up in the tree. What was wrong with that? A long time would pass before he would have any fun I guess that was the only thing he was sad about. No more tree-house! Only a ground-house! And of course, no more milkman's box. Oh, he did admit everything. After all, he was only having fun.
It just wasn't there. Although this man was well informed and followed every rule, he did make a mistake. At that time, the custom required a person to offer tobacco as a gift to the water before one will wash their face. Otherwise, the Under Water Panther, will steal it, the face that is, and never will it be returned; although the man will live, he will live without a face. He probably was caught up in counting the scales of a sun fish and forgot to make his offering. Nobody really knows. You can see that this mistake can have drastic consequences, but it is not altogether without solutions.
When it was done, he hurried happily back home. (Now, grandson, you will not be shocked at what will happen next. I think you have a pretty good idea that this story is bit ordinary for your tastes. ) The two friends arrived on the same day. We sure were glad to see them because they were gone for a long time. Their friend was almost dead from starvation. He was no wider than the post we had tied him to. We also realized that now we had two faces. We didn't think to send these friends out together to make just one.