Cicada Song
Cicada Song is a collection of poems on the theme of mental health and it’s intersection with relationships, love, loss, and all things celestial are tackled. (ALL ROYALTIES WILL BE DONATED TO THE TREVOR PROJECT TO HELP AT RISK LGBTQ+ YOUTH)
“From its deeply kinetic opening account of a literal leap of faith, Cicada Song by Ryan Norman delivers a full experience. It’s not simply the chapbook’s profoundly tactile, sensory settings, though the journey from “[c]areening around hairpin turns, / trestles quaking” to “the cratered face / of the moon” spans a universe printed in vivid color.”
-nat raum, review from the winnow
Like its controlling figure, the cicada, Ryan Norman’s Cicada Song is a yearning and pulsing creature that fills until its emergence is an impossibility that cannot be ignored. From moment to moment, you may find yourself in an orchard, in the sea, in a river, staring out at your lover—the river, digging a tunnel through the soil, feeding on tree roots, or receiving sustenance from the moon. And the inundation of it is simultaneously surprising and expected—in that it too is cyclical. In the title poem, Norman’s speaker begs, choose me, repeats it, and receives an answer on the wind, the object is singing for someone new. Moments of illumination are offered with such sincerity, and that is this collection’s gift. However, Norman weaves that frankness into intricate sensory language. W’s whoosh through the center of “Crashing” and ecstasy becomes a dance in “Lake Nights”. These flourishes of movement propel the pieces from their earthbound home, up to the swarm.
–Kari Flickinger, author of The Gull and the Bell Tower
‘Have you ever stood next to a tree, boxed in with cement, and cried for its strength?’
Cicada Song is the riveting debut chapbook from Ryan Norman, opening over a wave-filled labyrinth were the fledgling Icarus lies trapped, limp body tossed over a shoulder and from here we crash out of myth and into modern day in the diving seat of a getaway car on route from wreckage. In both we are asked if it’s possible to escape our own labyrinth, the cement our roots have boxed us up in, if we can rise from the mistakes our masks made of us and be seen for the truths our identities are dying to reveal of us. And immediately I buckle up to ride the tidal wave that’s about to come crashing down.
The waves here, along with its accompanying redemptive; late night swim, hot lava in icy water and destructive; the river’s shore, lapping like a thirsty predator force of water, rise again and again between the desire to be grounded, the weight of being ground down and the struggle towards freedom; whether in the form of bird in flight regardless of its fragility or breath-taking star, blazing despite all the darkness that surrounds it and here, even in the same poem, those conflicting challenges collide; the ache to be held next to the need to be free, the desire to be an Us while the Self demands to be understood for who It is, alone, the memory of physical comfort weighed up against the darkness that can hug, sometimes tighter.
And it’s here where Norman reveals his skill; his ability to peel back the essence of these themes that seem timeless but are delivered with a tone that is very much of the present day, partly aided by meticulous imagery that draws the reader into the forefront of every scene via seductive lines like where we dove into the barely known of one another, drinking with our eyes the unquenchable thirst while also having the ability to drown us in the opening lines of the poem Baby Breath; I came into this world head first, blue-faced, the voice choked out of me by the one thing giving me life.
Norman's questions of what it means to be connected come alive in extraordinary ways on each page thanks to his, often devastating, honesty, whether those ties are the umbilical cord of family or the sexual hold we are either begging for or running from, turning this pamphlet into a no-holes-barred examination of what it takes to walk through today's often dark and threatening landscape that demands equally a sense of freedom; new skin hardening over time watching sunsets alone and an understanding of belonging; I used to wish that I could hug you the way the couch did.
From white knuckle car rides; careening around hairpin turns, trestles quaking, metal on metal, as his car tires kiss guardrails guarding a 50-foot cliff to learning to embrace the moon in the dark sky as a mother; she pulled my tides, revealed hidden parts of me. Her crescent crown illuminated my downfall, all accompanied by an albatross, a red breasted robin, an over-preened pigeon, a slithering snake and the bountiful apple orchard of enticement, this is an unstoppable, lyrical, unshakable gathering of poems grounded both in nature’s bounty and barrenness while rising above it all on a chariot to light the sky before returning to sleep below the stars in a wish to wake and find someone next to us, forever watchful.
This is a pamphlet that comes together to accept fragility in the grip of an unstoppable strength. And this is just the beginning. There are big things on the way for Ryan Norman whose foot is now very much in control of both the wheel and the coming wave and we’d be a fool not to follow him.
Budding in protest, it grows and we, the readers, cheer.
-Damien Donnelly, author of Eat the Storms, Creator and host of the podcast Eat the Storms the Poetry Podcast
I Always wanted to be a bond girl
In this pop-culture poetry collection, Norman sets out to grab your attention within the first lines, and he does. I Always Wanted to be a Bond Girl will have you biting your lip one moment and looking for a tissue in the next. Agony, defeat, and lust are all explored through a pop-culture lens in poignant use of imagery and metaphor further deepening the divide between the narrator and subject. It's not easy living in a beautiful but dangerous world. Plus, look what these poets had to say about Norman's collection:
Ryan Norman’s I Always Wanted to be a Bond Girl asks the reader to reconsider not only love but also life and death—where they intersect, who holds the authority, what happens if that power shifts. Norman invites the reader into the chapbook as a confidante, as someone with whom he tangoes throughout a suspenseful journey of stealthy lust and love. The tight language and images seduce the reader, so when the narrator asks, “Are you still watching?” at the end of the opening poem, all the reader can do is speechlessly nod their head yes at the page.
-Preston Smith, author of Red Rover, Red Lover
Alive with lust and agony, I Always Wanted to be a Bond Girl is an alluring blend of pop culture and poetry. Strongly crafted, beautifully worded. At turns playful and poignant, Norman’s work will speak to anyone who has loved a Bond film.
-Tiffany Belieu, author of Fairy Tale Therapy
