I stared at the manuscript, I’d known I’d had it for a couple of days - counted the poems, forty one - and contemplated reviewing ‘under every deep’, in truth with some reluctance, that was, until I started reading.
The refreshing take on slices of life rendered by Lamonique Hamilton in her book ‘under every deep’, makes for a far from arduous task. The rich texture of Hamilton’s poetry brings the reader many pleasures, stimulating many senses of the mind with a reprise of views on themes old and new. Proving both insightful, touching and even lyrical, as words extend and combined effortlessly to portray visions and even sounds. Checkout the cool rhythmic flow of ‘Melody: An Elegy’, with stanzas as songful as:

‘…Guitar, Guitar. Strumming couples’ lovemaking. Plucking guitar rain. No heaven droplets on your face. No prisms crashing on concrete. No smell of new day. The sensual guitar is just, Sound…’

Yes, the words of this book reveal the work of a talented writer, who uses their ability to express themselves, their art, our feelings and meanings in a range of ways: Simple Afternoon, an artistic portrait; Discovery, hopeful; Enigma, Clever.
And, of course, despite much that’s really good, it doesn’t always work. Downtime, for example, which I personally found, though shot through with glimpses of brilliance, failed to deliver as promised. And, American Portrait, which though great in ambition, I felt was in danger of working just a little too hard to make its point.
Yet, the gemstones that glisten beautifully, littering the majority of Hamilton’s poetry reward the reader handsomely. Four-Thirty, is engaging and inventive; Dream (18 months into celibacy) chuckles, sensuous with honesty; and Memory of a Life, is perceptive and moving.
Now I sit staring into the distance, content to contemplate, life affirmed by the inspiring and creative words of ‘under every deep’ by Lamonique Hamilton.