THE FALSE GOD'S LULLABY

An introspective poetry collection that explores and captures experiences from the mundane to the extraordinary.

In Gedaliah’s book, which comprises seven parts (the first six are poetry and the last one is short prose­), topics vary widely but often touch on identity and place. In “Memory,” for example, the author notes how it’s often the seemingly inconsequential moments that stick with a person, rather than the “seismic shifts that alter lives.” One of the dominant subjects is the almost primordial connection between the self and others, as evidenced in poems like “The Ancient Within,” which addresses “our animal brain,” the voices within that seem to emanate from another place altogether. The subjects of nature (“Asimolar”) and memory (“Old Photograph”) also make frequent appearances. Each of the seven larger sections tends to loosely follow a particular theme. For instance, “Loss and Departing” touches on losses of all kinds, from death to the loss of innocence. “Interior Worlds” (both Part 1 and Part 2), on the other hand, leans toward more introspective language: “If ever I was to awake / and find you a stranger / I would certainly have lost myself.” Most poems range from one to two pages, with “Home” being the longest at 10. The final prose section consists of a paragraph or two devoted to various musings. In “Estrangement,” for example, Gedaliah posits that, “The fundamental source of our estrangement is the myth of Adam and Eve. Stripped of its sexism and moral imperatives, eating the fruit of the tree of knowledgeis our awareness of being orphaned from nature.”

Gedaliah creates layered and thought-provoking imagery and conceits that lean toward the somber. The exception is the section “Lightness of Being,” which includes some fanciful entries that brighten the work’s mood (e.g., his comparison of having sex to playing the drums in “The Prog Drummer’s [Often Ignored] Advice”). There are word choices and turns of phrase that veer toward triteness (“whose strange fruit lingers / upon my tongue”). For the most part, however, Gedaliah expertly renders the profound emotions that can emerge when people allow themselves to be still enough to truly perceive what’s around them. He often pairs minor moments with big emotional impacts to illustrate the importance of overlooked occasions. This juxtaposition can be seen in the poem “Endearment,” which says, “The enormity of small things / endear you to me, / flowing lightly on / streams of experience.” While the prose section is small, its entries are a continuation of Gedaliah’s rumination on the ways of humanity. He concludes with the titular entry and, in perhaps the section’s most moving scene, describes a grandmother comforting her grandchild. In an image that could have been saccharine, Gedaliah turns the scene into something of vast significance: The grandmother temporarily becomes “all powerful, all goodness, all light, and all love. She was now a fleeting god!” Gedaliah’s unique way of portraying the connections that exist within and around us encourages readers to do the same.

A moving collection that encourages reveling in the poignancy of the everyday.