Book Review: akal by Dave Wood

Here’s a question: what’s the purpose of poetry? Before we disappear into the depths of that particular rabbit-hole, let’s say that one of the purposes can be as a way of meditation: turning over a phrase in the mind, a way of looking differently at an object, a landscape, an idea, a feeling. Dave Wood’s collection of seventy poems, ‘akal’ was, as Wood explains in his introduction, the result of his attempt to reflect in poetic form on a weekly meditation session. Indeed, the book is described on the inner title page as ‘seventy poems from seventy meditations’.

As a reader I often think of myself as sharing the ‘making of meaning’ with the author, and Wood’s poems encourage that. As I read them, I reflect - ‘meditate’ - on the words and the idea or image he is prompting me to. In the very first poem ‘seed sow’, we are within the meditating process: “we find our breath - it walks a heart shape land” and several poems focus on the act of meditation, in which we can either reflect or participate: “count/the ins/the holds/the half second out”.

The outcome in my mind is an inadvertent collaboration, the combination of the poet and myself.  At first, I feared I might find the focus on meditation wearying, but by poem four - ‘the art of being very’ I was intrigued. Wood has taken a simple adverb - very - and reimagined it as a noun, a thing in and of itself. This is something the better poets often do (think: Dylan Thomas) and I came to enjoy the use of this sense of invention here.

The poems take us through the process of Wood’s meditation - he describes this as a journey, at times including physical movements. These and the internal ‘movements’ are often minimal so it comes as something of a shock when the focus shifts suddenly to a vastness instead: “in our universe/spring knows its way out/doors opening both ways”.

The poems are written simply, without use of formal punctuation, though line breaks, double-spacing, italicisation and indentation assist understanding while, as in all good poetry, leaving room for ambiguity. Most occupy a single page, and many are short enough to be encompassed in one ‘thought’, or maybe even one meditative ‘breath’.

Wood varies this pattern, too: to maintain the reader’s interest, but also perhaps as a process to prompt his own writing. Nearly halfway through there is an acrostic (a teacher’s favourite prompt to their pupils), in this case using the word ‘purity’ down the left side (with initial letters emboldened for the first six lines, then final letters highlighted for the last six) and the word signposted by the title. I’m not sure I see any grand scheme in doing this, other than showing us the works of discipline which help along the creative process. Perhaps such discipline is also required for meditation.

Another form used is the haiku - a more stringent form than the acrostic. It’s difficult to work within the predetermined space of seventeen syllables, but Wood crafts his well, and I would have been happy to see him do this more than once - the haiku is a fantastic way of distilling meaning such that it can be contemplated as a meditation.

Other techniques employed include the use of invented words or mantras: in some traditions of meditation, I believe, focus on a sound assists the concentration of the mind. Wood has also used another simple pattern to prompt creation - the use of the same phrase to start every line, where each line begins with “the hands...”. The poet is using a singular focus, turning over possibilities in his mind, encouraging us, the reader, to consider the many ways we might imagine ‘the hands’.

Images from these poems linger in the mind, like this one of a dense forest: “find me my way/through dense forests of the mind/pathways to other places/

the cafe on the corner” I do like the way that when Wood seems to feel the risk of his poetic persona getting overblown and pompous, he deflates it with a simple everyday experience at the local caf. And I’m reminded in the ‘forest’ image of Edward Thomas’ glorious ‘I Have Come to the Borders of Sleep’, which is always a compliment in my book.

Meditation is, to my mind at least, a kind of quasi-religious activity, so there’s no surprise that in these poems Dave Wood seems to be addressing something or someone besides himself. “bring my soul into ways/of seeing” he beseeches in ‘thirty - abundance’; another opens with “teach me patience - teach me sight”. Perhaps the question underlying this collection is: to whom or to what is it addressed? The wonder is formed here but not the answer - perhaps that’s alright.

There is certainly sufficient variety and vividness of thought to justify LeftLion’s readers looking into ‘akal’. As with many compilations of poetry, this is a book that can be started anywhere, dipped into and reread. These become books of companionship: we fold the corners on our favourites, savour their words and turn over their meanings in our meditations.

Dave Wood is a writer, community arts worker and visual artist from Nottingham - you can get hold of his collection 'akal' here. 

The portrait of Dave Wood is by artist Phil Harrison, a Fellow at the Nottingham Society of Artists. See more of his work here.