{"product_id":"skin-natasa-saroska-9781970020854","title":"Skin: select poems","description":"There is a space within me. A space which is homeless. Borderless. A space which is mute. A cellular space. A conflicted space. It overwhelms me. It obsesses me. It disturbs me. It disrupts me. A space that I cannot hear, but I can feel it. The cells are impregnated with memory that I cannot tell. I write poetry to tell. I write to give meaning to those spasmodic voids. I write to interconnect those spaces in my mind. The process is subtle. I cut off the detail, the microscopic fragment, the zero level of the knowing, and I float. I shift in-between words. I reveal the subliminal drift. The tectonic motion of the word. The chamber character of my poetry reflects that space with which I have communicated in a distinguished fashion. But that space has no words. I had no words when experiencing that space. That space is absorbing spatial memory which is speechless. I give mouth and tongue to that space within my verses and that is the distorted, the bewildered, the unprecedented, the allusive experience. The poems I create become agents of traces that I have accumulated with my sense and sensations. A hotel room, an airport gate, a lobby, a train station, a deserted port, a marine bay, ground control, border crossing, empty restaurants, an old-school bar, crowded streets, massive cities. A silenced space of corporal and sentimental memory. There is nothing else I can do when I face the white page. I want to see myself inside. I want to tell the world to the world. I want to see. The white page is a mirror. I cannot lie. I cannot hide. I walk on the cadmium textile. I would not be able to write if I was not honest and sincere in my relation to that whiteness, to what I write. I write to calm my nerves. My mood shifts. My despairs . . . My desires . . . I write to fill in the abysses. I write to suffocate my abysses above which I levitate. I defy gravity. I write to save myself from choking. From burning out. From drowning. Writing poetry gives direction to my nervous contortion. In extreme conditions, I often feel the urgent need to write as if there would be some emotional Hiroshima in my inner room if I did not write.What else can a poet do when (left) alone? What else when anything else falls apart? Which space can the poet dwell in? Yet, I never defined myself as poet, for a poet consists only in the very action of writing. Only in that moment do we give sense to that side of our existence. Outside that moment I execute other everyday dimensions or other dimensions of my ontological being. In the process of poetry-making, I am cutting off the reality to produce another sensational reality. I translate the language. This language can be sometimes obsessive, exuberant, exaggerated or exhilarated, but at other times, it can be mute or even aphasic.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eAuthor:\u003c\/b\u003e Natasa Sardžoska\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eISBN-10:\u003c\/b\u003e 1970020857\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eISBN-13:\u003c\/b\u003e 9781970020854\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePublisher:\u003c\/b\u003e Inner Child Press, Ltd.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eLanguage:\u003c\/b\u003e English\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePublished:\u003c\/b\u003e 06\/08\/2019\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePages:\u003c\/b\u003e 72\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eFormat:\u003c\/b\u003e Paperback\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eWeight:\u003c\/b\u003e 0.48lbs\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eSize:\u003c\/b\u003e 10.00h x 8.00w x 0.19d","brand":"Natasa Sar\u0026#499;\u0026#780;oska","offers":[{"title":"Paperback","offer_id":48440204558591,"sku":"9781970020854","price":15.95,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0662\/2982\/9887\/files\/img_c4dec009-cc30-4f77-bfb1-c8f7ac17d44d.jpg?v=1777180878","url":"https:\/\/www.whiterainbookhouse.com\/products\/skin-natasa-saroska-9781970020854","provider":"WR Book House","version":"1.0","type":"link"}