{"id":27290,"date":"2021-07-26T12:00:00","date_gmt":"2021-07-26T12:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.oncolink.org\/?p=13114"},"modified":"2024-11-03T15:14:34","modified_gmt":"2024-11-03T15:14:34","slug":"cancerland-bookshelf-loosen","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ogkologos.com\/en\/cancerland-bookshelf-loosen\/","title":{"rendered":"CancerLand Bookshelf : Loosen"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Author:<\/strong> Kyle Potvin
ISBN:<\/strong> 9781939449078
Loosen
Information:<\/strong> Hobblebush Books, 2021 $18.00 US
Oncolink Rating<\/strong> ⭐️⭐️⭐️ (3\/3)<\/p>\n

Flattered<\/em>. That\u2019s the best word to describe how I felt last week after I clicked on an email from OncoLink and read a forwarded invitation from Kyle Potvin to review her new book of poetry. Incredibly flattered actually, since I had only ever virtually connected with Kyle and that was way back when in 2013 when I wrote a review of her poetry chapbook Sound Travels on Water<\/em>. How nice to be remembered, I thought to myself, even if we have never met in real life. Immediately I agreed to add Loosen<\/em> to The CancerLand Bookshelf<\/em> and eagerly awaited the book\u2019s arrival.<\/p>\n

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Loosen<\/em> landed in my mailbox yesterday afternoon on one of the hottest days of the summer to date. After grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I headed outside with the book, finally stretching out comfortably on a chaise lounge in the backyard under a shady tree. Then I did what I always do when reading a book of poetry for the first time; I began to turn down the corners of pages featuring those pieces that immediately \u201cspoke\u201d to me, the poems that would no doubt quickly become my favorites. When I reached the last page of Loosen<\/em>, I immediately saw just how many upper right-hand page corners were dog-eared and had to smile. Then I flipped back to the beginning and read through all 44 of the poems again\u2026<\/p>\n

Loosen<\/em> is structured in five parts, each section introduced by a short stanza. Each of these short pieces paints a different word picture related to the title of the book. Loosen<\/em>. Such an evocative choice for a poetry collection title since the word resonates loudly on so many levels. \u201cLoosen\u201d suggests multiple interpretations. Just consider some synonyms: relax, lessen, moderate, untangle, untie, diminish, soften, alleviate, ease, let go. Then think about some of the alternatives: A knot in a necklace can be loosened. A group of tight muscles can be massaged and loosened up for pain relief. Knots are often made with rope and are so unique they each have a special name to identify them (\u201cReef Knot\/Sheet Bend\/Clove Hitch\/Bow Line\u201d). Other knots could actually be surgical sutures that at some point in time dissolve as the body heals. Ultimately, these introductory stanzas merge to become the last poem in the collection titled, \u201cLoosen.\u201d With this technique, the poet skillfully deconstructs her tapestry and then weaves it back together again to underscore her overarching message about healing and ultimately living with grace in the face of trauma.<\/p>\n

Whether that trauma is a cancer \u201cDiagnosis\u201d (\u201cyou know the truth, the blank walls taunt,\/x-rays, sound waves, words dripping like drugs.\/Will those sustain me?\u201d ) or \u201cGoing Under\u201d during a chemo infusion (\u201cthey hooked me up and dripped a drug\/into my vein that took me to a world\/where everything was gone: no light, no sound,\u201d), Kyle\u2019s poems speak to difficult moments in the cancer treatment journey. Her writing describes vivid examples of cancer treatment discomforts like, \u201cpoison-plumped veins\/white sores in the mouth\/cold fog in the brain\/then the burn of the beam\/for thirty-three days.\u201d While she is \u201cWaiting for Results,\u201d she reflects on her fellow breast cancer survivors (\u201cI am Jane. I am Ellen. I am Julia\u2026\u201d) How many countless numbers of us are collectively waiting tensely to learn the results of our latest bloodwork or scan? What a shared, painful experience. Ultimately, being a cancer patient takes its toll on both the body and the spirit. Kyle captures that feeling in the poem, \u201cGod Looks Down at 3 A.M.,\u201d when she writes, \u201cI see you are tired.  Me too.  Exhausted.\u201d<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not at all surprising to me that after reading through Loosen<\/em> a second time, that famous quote of Samuel Beckett\u2019s came to mind: \u201cYou must go on. I can\u2019t go on. I\u2019ll go on.\u201d To which I answer with this simple question, \u201chow is that possible?\u201d How do cancer patients move on from treatment?<\/p>\n

In the fourth section of her collection, with the poem, \u201cDo You Know Pain?\u201d Kyle Potvin offers cancer survivors this practical advice: \u201c\u2026return to this earth\/forgetting it happened\/the aching and bruising\/the bleeding and writhing\/for the scarring is healing\/the hurting subsiding.\u201d Perhaps the best way to get through treatment for cancer is to ultimately let go of the experience, in essence \u201cloosen\u201d your tight hold on what was terrible and horrible and focus on healing instead. One day, before long, you will become aware of a \u201cNew Normal.\u201d In this poem, the writer searches her scalp, now bald from chemotherapy and suddenly, \u201csoft spikes appear.\u201d Such a thrilling moment for any cancer survivor when hair begins to grow back! It is a tangible sign that treatment is finally in the rear view mirror and a new kind of life is looming with possibility on the horizon in the near distance.<\/p>\n

Apply some of the writer\u2019s ideas to your life post-treatment and maybe, just maybe, you too can hit \u201cthe lights just right\/as you cruise down Second Avenue\/in and out of cars with the precision of a cabbie\/\u201d as she relates in her poem \u201cCatching the Green.\u201d Kyle Potvin describes that magic known as \u201cflow,\u201d using the metaphor of driving a car smoothly through Manhattan traffic, with every traffic light turning from red to green on the avenue as you approach, urging you forward without delay. Can healing feel that way? Yes, please\u2026<\/p>\n

Loosen<\/em> is a rich poetry reading experience, especially for a breast cancer survivor. Kyle\u2019s personal encounters as a cancer patient are deeply embedded in her writing, so much so that survivors can\u2019t help but be reminded of their own days in treatment. To me, this amounts to the best sort of \u201cpoetry therapy,\u201d that powerful \u201cyou\u2019re-not-alone\u201d feeling as shared experience shimmers on the page.<\/p>\n

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About the author: Alysa Cummings is a certified poetry therapist who focuses her energies full-time in support of cancer survivors using writing as a tool for healing. In the years since her own treatment ended, Alysa founded the support group Pink Ribbon Poetry (2002-2009) and led Writing the Journey workshops for Living Beyond Breast Cancer. She is the Oncolink Poet-in-Residence, publishing book\/media reviews, poetry projects, photographs, and memoir pieces online. Her first book, Greetings from CancerLand: Writing the Journey to Recovery<\/em> was published in 2012.<\/p>\n

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Author: Kyle PotvinISBN: 9781939449078LoosenInformation: Hobblebush Books, 2021 $18.00 USOncolink Rating ⭐️⭐️⭐️ (3\/3) Flattered. That\u2019s the best word to describe how I felt last week after I clicked on an email from OncoLink and read a forwarded invitation from Kyle Potvin to review her new book of poetry. Incredibly flattered actually, since I had only ever […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[5137],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-27290","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-world-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ogkologos.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27290","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ogkologos.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ogkologos.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ogkologos.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ogkologos.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=27290"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/ogkologos.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27290\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":43691,"href":"https:\/\/ogkologos.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27290\/revisions\/43691"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ogkologos.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=27290"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ogkologos.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=27290"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ogkologos.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=27290"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}