BOOK: “White Teeth, Red Blood” by Various

White Teeth, Red Blood: Selected Vampiric VersesWhite Teeth, Red Blood: Selected Vampiric Verses by Lord Byron
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Publisher Site – Pushkin Press

This anthology gathers poetry with at least a vaguely vampiric theme. About half of the poets fit into the category of well-known to a general readership (e.g. Goethe, Byron, Coleridge, Tennyson, Yeats, Dickinson, Kipling, Baudelaire, Millay, etc.) and the others will be less familiar to most readers — either by virtue of being modern poets or having a body of work that didn’t age as well, on the whole. Even the pieces from familiar poets don’t tend to be among those artists’ most anthologized works by virtue of the specialized theme of the selection. Most of the pieces are older works, but there are modern poems included as well, and it follows that most of the works are rhymed / metered, with free verse mostly seen among the newest poems.

The twenty-nine poems in the anthology are arranged between three sections. The first is the longest part, taking up about 3/4th of the book, and consists of nine poems (including a few excerpts of book-length narrative poems,) all of long format. The second section includes eleven shorter poems (between one and a few pages long,) and the last section contains nine poems, most of which are quite short (as short as a quatrain.)

There is a brief introduction by Claire Kohda, but otherwise there is no ancillary matter. That was fine by me. There is no padding, and — even though there are fewer than thirty poems — the poems fill out the book because so many of them are long pieces or excerpts.

I enjoyed this book and its varied selection of poems. While I read poetry extensively and have read my share of vampire fiction, this was the first work I can remember reading at their intersect. This meant that, for me, there was a good amount of unfamiliar material (despite there being relatively few recent poems.) If you’re in the same boat, you’ll probably enjoy this anthology.

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“The Human Seasons” by John Keats [w/ Audio]

Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;
There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously
Spring's honied cud of youthful thought
he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high
Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness -- to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.