Review by Deborah K Frontiera
Books of poetry are not meant to be read like novels, page after page for hours on end. Poetry is meant to be read a few pages at a time over a few weeks or more. Even if a reader doesn’t “understand” everything right away, give it time to sink in. This collection lives up to its title: Each Life Is a Philosophy. The poet covers all phases of life, from youth to old age, and includes reflections on death. They are poems of everyday life, including frustration and joy, good, bad, and ordinary people, complete with rhyme and rhythm. It’s like Seuss for grownups, who also makes subtle but pointed points about life and people. Some are even labeled “lyrics,” for indeed, the lyrics of songs are poetry. Many have the feel of Country Music with its love, heartbreak, jobs and streets, success and failure. Photos, sketches, and small pieces of art enhance the meaning on some pages.
The first poem in the collection, “The Poet,” which is a metaphor for God, states in the last stanza: “So keep a humble heart within/ By knowing we have our limits/ The universe is here for us/ For the poet wrote us in it.” This is followed by poems of childhood, regret for not pursuing dreams, memories of parents long gone, etc. “The Shoreline” (pg. 16) speaks of children playing, growing up, leaving home and returning later. A fallen-in chicken coop brings memories of the grandfather who built it and seems to be a metaphor for all life. Burdis also writes about making up for past mistakes and faith winning out. There is humor in “The Stench of Sweet Revenge” (pg. 48) and many escapes into nature.
In “Lone Wolf,” Burdis brings out the comparison of a real lone wolf, and a human in a similar position.
“And no one sees the tears
Nobody knows the lone wolf’s fears
Freedoms lost in so few years.”
Hints of sarcasm appear in “A Dream for Sigmund Freud” (pg. 70-80) and are not lost on the reader. Here is a quote from “Words”:
“Words put together like building blocks
In an endless progression of expressions of thought
… The words you speak make sense to me
Unless, of course, you speak the words confusingly.”
I had to chuckle over one poem about a guy who won’t get rid of some raggedy clothes. Then there’s the poem where the poet refers to himself as an idiot. “Too + Two = to/ But I’m an idiot/ i write poems/ It ain’t literature/ It ain’t wit, Just shit.” And he doesn’t care what other people think.
A section of love poems speaks about finding love late in life, along with break-up poems. There’s also prison life, the guard’s point of view, and being released Did I mention the parallel to Country Music?
Some serious points come out in “Limited Minds,” especially in the last stanza:
“Instead we judge, condemn, and demand restitution
The same as the ancients—it’s our only solution
And why not? What else do we know?
We’re limited minds with no place to go!”
Then there’s “The Word” (pg. 218-19) in which he condemns all “organized” religions, making some good points. After all, faith is the important thing to the poet. He also brings out points about how humanity does not learn from history, and the futility of war. So, he doesn’t try to avoid the darker areas of humanity. Perhaps a young mind full of hope grew cynical over the years. Who hasn’t felt that?
The title poem, “Each Life Is a Philosophy,” appears on pages 240 and 241, and almost reads like Proverbs. And “Mindful Stew” (pg. 271) is a metaphor for how a writer simmers ideas and dishes them out for others to eat.
Read it all or don’t; it’s up to each person. You may find yourself saying, “I can’t believe I read the whole thing,” but you also might feel a little bit glad you read Each Life Is a Philosophy.
Each Life Is a Philosophy
By John Edward Budris
ISBN 979-8-992689-90-7 (PB) hardback and e-book also available, Fairview School Publishers, Iron River, MI 2025
