“in a past life, i was a dust devil.
my mother was the core of the earth,
my father some kind of wind. i was born
on a day when they were both angry,
yet still full of love. my blood type
was storm. my eye color was the sun.”
— from “first ever folk tale”
Lyd Havens is not afraid of you. They might be wary of you, but they do not fear you. I say that because I don’t think Lyd has any awareness of their own intimidation onstage or on page. They may not see their overall
“I-would-rather-hug-you-than-cut-you-but-my-knife-is-sharp-and-my-hugs-are-not”-edness, but then again, maybe that is just who Lyd is. A middle ground between Ego and lack of it, a person who isn’t easy to define, a person who is walking path we we all be following soon.
Survive Like The Water from Rising Phoenix Press, is at times funny and others emotionally draining, often in the same poem, Havens has a savage wit and open wound for you to see on every page. Their lyricism surpassed only by the abundant imagery, you can almost feel the poems being written for YOU.
“i fall under the lullaby of the current, and i taste
blood. i tap at the ice, and there is no one there
to explain how to get out. i feel my lungs peel
back like citrus, and realize there is no such thing
— from“one (in two parts)”
Lyd Havens isn’t a typical poet. Far from it. Though, if I were to try, I would say that Lyd is the type of poet other poets look forward to reading and hearing. A “poet’s poet” (for lack of a better term), but not the type that gets filed away to the backs of academic minds, or canonized on the circuit without the deserved credit, but the type that is at once challenging and anthemic enough to speak across experiences. A truth-teller in the oldest and truest versions of that term.