I am a member of CPA and would like to submit my poetry collection for posting on the CPA Bookstore. I already have the CPA banner linked on my web site http://www.ascentaspirations.ca/authorlinks.htm
Going to the Well ISBN 0-9736568-08 By David Fraser 2004; 94 pp; Pa; Ascent Aspirations Poetry, 1560 Arbutus Drive, Nanoose Bay, British Columbia, Canada V9P 9C8. $14.95
About the Book: Testimonials and Reviews
This publication is David Fraser's first collection of poetry. Whether writing poetry or short fiction, David examines characters struggling with time and entropy, with relationships and with finding meaning in lives often caught up and stagnant in their own existence, their aging and their loss. Many poems deal with the dark side of the human condition as a political protest to man’s inhumanity to man, and to man’s blatant disregard for our greatest resource, Mother Earth. However within this dark perspective there is tenderness and hope and lyrical imagery of what life wonderfully can be.
"David Fraser looks up, looks around him, takes in his surroundings, and does a good job of reporting on nature as a vital restorative element in our lives." - David Chorlton
"David Fraser's 'Going to the Well' is a remarkable journey filled with a zest for all that life offers. His poems surprise, delight, and enrich the reader. They truly deepen our understanding of the human condition...all in all, this collection represents a most impressive debut." - Vernon Waring
Sample Poems:
Blackberry Picking
These sharp, honed razor stalks sprouted up and mixed with broom coat the scars of land disturbed. Their stalks reach up and cling to trees, stretch in tangled barbed islands, a refuge for quail and rabbit, snakes and mice. I wade into the thorny waters to pick those plump rich berries just a stretch away, a scratch away, a curled hand, two subtle fingers reaching up beneath a leaf, the juice of picked berries staining them, rich and red, purple in the shade. The canes move and grip my hat, claw at the cotton shoulders of my shirt. I pick with either hand, held in a cocoon of time, lost in picking, Lost in all the tangles of a life. I eat a few; the juice exploding on my tongue. The dogs, tired of chasing rabbits sit in the long dry grass beside me. I feed them berries and they, too, begin to pick from the lower stalks. We gather together, the hot sun of a blue sky and a breeze much a part of us berries, dogs and me.
David Fraser 2003 Previously published in Ygdrasil, Nov. 2003 and in the collection Going to the Well, Ascent Aspirations Publishing
Fossil Hunting (Hornby Island)
The tide is out across the beds of cretaceous shale among the scuttling crabs, over smoothed boulders, ’round jagged erratics. exposed, I wander among ochre stars glinting in the sun, eel grass flat, sea hair and rockweed where shield-backed kelp crabs move, mossy chiton cling. The slippery walk flat and low across the Georgia Strait beneath the blue pleasure of the sky where seal pups play upon their rocky jut of solitude, where two eagles perched apart fish from rocks. and all around, a wealth of snowy peaks, our island heights melting fresh water to the sea. The continuous margin of the strait sparkling in the vacant expanse of air. hammer-handed, I search, choosing not the smooth granites that can break my wrist but dull concretions, gray, smooth or barnacled, formed ’round some nucleus; a stem, a stone, once living things, an ammonite perhaps; Aha! a crab carapace formed delicate within the rock before human feet stepped ashore. Maybe further down the beach, a mosasaur, its curving neck, razor teeth held captive in the stone. I sit with my discoveries and dreams far out at sea on my glacial-carried seat amid the muck of time, the here and now and then.
David Fraser 2004 Previously published in Ardent, August 2004 and in the collection Going to the Well, Ascent Aspirations Publishing