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The Only Worlds We Know
Michael Lee's The Only Worlds We Know is a staggering debut that grapples with sobriety and survival.
The Only Worlds We Know Lee paints a nuanced and tactile portrait of addiction, and an unflinching look at the life that is built in recovery.
Having suffered unspeakable grief, these poems are patient meditations on loss and the land where the people we love have not only lived, but are also buried.
The Only World We Know is constantly looking for the “words that carry us into the dark and then beyond it.” Lee's work carries readers, beyond personal demons, beyond life, death, and grief, tenderly, patiently pulling us through The Only Worlds We Know.
An award winning short film of Michael Lee's poem "Pass On" helped to break stereotypes about poetry and pave the way for thousands of poets to broadcast their work in video as well as in print.
“How much liquor can the body hold until the body leaves itself behind?” -- from, Out There
Advance praise for The Only Worlds We Know
The Only Worlds We Know is an “act of remembering like sharpening a blade until the blade is gone.”
-Terrance Hayes, Author of How to Be Drawn
Michael Lee has found new ways to write about some of the crucial subjects―love and love lost, recovery and addiction, the bullet and the pill.
-Billy Collins, US Poet Laureate and Author of Sailing Alone Around the Room
The Only Worlds We Know Lee paints a nuanced and tactile portrait of addiction, and an unflinching look at the life that is built in recovery.
Having suffered unspeakable grief, these poems are patient meditations on loss and the land where the people we love have not only lived, but are also buried.
The Only World We Know is constantly looking for the “words that carry us into the dark and then beyond it.” Lee's work carries readers, beyond personal demons, beyond life, death, and grief, tenderly, patiently pulling us through The Only Worlds We Know.
An award winning short film of Michael Lee's poem "Pass On" helped to break stereotypes about poetry and pave the way for thousands of poets to broadcast their work in video as well as in print.
“How much liquor can the body hold until the body leaves itself behind?” -- from, Out There
Advance praise for The Only Worlds We Know
The Only Worlds We Know is an “act of remembering like sharpening a blade until the blade is gone.”
-Terrance Hayes, Author of How to Be Drawn
Michael Lee has found new ways to write about some of the crucial subjects―love and love lost, recovery and addiction, the bullet and the pill.
-Billy Collins, US Poet Laureate and Author of Sailing Alone Around the Room
- GenresPoetryNonfiction
112 pages, Paperback
First published August 13, 2019
About the author
Michael Lee
1 book26 followersMichael Lee is a Norwegian-American writer, youth worker, and organizer. He has received grants and scholarships from the Minnesota State Arts Board, the LOFT Literary Center, and the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference. Winner of the Scotti Merrill Award for poetry from the Key West Literary Seminar, his poetry has appeared in Ninth Letter, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Indiana Review, Poetry Northwest, Copper Nickel, and Best New Poets 2018 among others. Michael has worked as a dishwasher, a farmhand, a teaching artist, a social studies teacher, and a case manager for youth experiencing homelessness. He works, lives, writes, organizes, and dreams in North Minneapolis, spending his free time reading and working in his garden.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 47 reviews
January 20, 2021
This one is more hard hitting than I ever thought it would be.
This collection of poems deals with death, grief mostly and the lines just reach your heart and mind with equal gusto and stay there.
The author talks about violence, the deaths of the people he used to know and his feelings about such issues.
My favourite turns out to be the following one :
''The rain has begun to fall, if I'm lucky
the fire will go out and you will follow, cross
my mind for a final time or at least take me
with you. The only way through is through.
If love is a city two people make then it is
also a place that has no use when its people leave,
though here I am tending to its dust. Nothing moves
but could. Even the city's single bird - birthed by our laughter- sings a single note and that one note hangs permanently in the air.'
I just love it!
I will definitely look forward to more of the upcoming collections by this author.
Thanks #NetGalley for the book #TheOnlyWorldsWeKnow
This collection of poems deals with death, grief mostly and the lines just reach your heart and mind with equal gusto and stay there.
The author talks about violence, the deaths of the people he used to know and his feelings about such issues.
My favourite turns out to be the following one :
''The rain has begun to fall, if I'm lucky
the fire will go out and you will follow, cross
my mind for a final time or at least take me
with you. The only way through is through.
If love is a city two people make then it is
also a place that has no use when its people leave,
though here I am tending to its dust. Nothing moves
but could. Even the city's single bird - birthed by our laughter- sings a single note and that one note hangs permanently in the air.'
I just love it!
I will definitely look forward to more of the upcoming collections by this author.
Thanks #NetGalley for the book #TheOnlyWorldsWeKnow
September 1, 2019
This, like everything that has been written about death, is also about being alive. Michael Lee is one of the first poets that made me love poetry, that made me love language like this. A beautiful collection.
August 19, 2019
I keep saying that Button poetry ought to give me some of the juice they're sipping because very collection I read from them moves me, and this one, this one stopped me right in my tracks.
Ever asked yourself 'how do I talk about this topic without offending someone?' Read this.
Ever asked yourself, 'what's it like standing still in darkness?' Read this.
Ever asked yourself, 'what does it feel like to be uncertain, afraid, hopeful, weary, loved, in-love, just living?' Read this.
If you've never asked yourself those three questions, I've got one for you: Are you human or a robot?
Thanks Netgalley for the eARC.
Ever asked yourself 'how do I talk about this topic without offending someone?' Read this.
Ever asked yourself, 'what's it like standing still in darkness?' Read this.
Ever asked yourself, 'what does it feel like to be uncertain, afraid, hopeful, weary, loved, in-love, just living?' Read this.
If you've never asked yourself those three questions, I've got one for you: Are you human or a robot?
Thanks Netgalley for the eARC.
September 5, 2019
i don't read a whole lot of poetry in general, and even less new poetry, so it was mostly by chance that i picked this one up. a good friend of mine jokes that when he doesn't know anything about a book he specifically judges it by its cover, and that's basically how i picked this one. the title caught my eye and i thought the minimalist design was pretty. luckily the entire thing turned out to be just as good.
there were a few poems that, although they didn't really do anything for me, were still well put together, i thought. other than those though, the whole collection was consistently beautiful and heartbreaking. i really enjoyed that these poems thematically complemented each other, that they actually felt like they belonged together. also i was surprised and excited to see someone use typographical experiments (more like games, really) and for it to not come across as cheap or gimmicky. but most impressive of all was mr. lee's beautiful turns of phrase, i mean wow. i'm definitely looking forward picking up copies of everything else he puts out. i'll end this with a couple of my favorite lines.
"Give it six months. If you don't like it,
you can have all your pain
and misery back."
"Each moment
of winter is so faint and silent it is a memory
even as you live it."
"Just yesterday.
I found new ways to say
I miss you, my god
how I miss you all."
there were a few poems that, although they didn't really do anything for me, were still well put together, i thought. other than those though, the whole collection was consistently beautiful and heartbreaking. i really enjoyed that these poems thematically complemented each other, that they actually felt like they belonged together. also i was surprised and excited to see someone use typographical experiments (more like games, really) and for it to not come across as cheap or gimmicky. but most impressive of all was mr. lee's beautiful turns of phrase, i mean wow. i'm definitely looking forward picking up copies of everything else he puts out. i'll end this with a couple of my favorite lines.
"Give it six months. If you don't like it,
you can have all your pain
and misery back."
"Each moment
of winter is so faint and silent it is a memory
even as you live it."
"Just yesterday.
I found new ways to say
I miss you, my god
how I miss you all."
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 11, 2020
So pretty
October 26, 2019
I don’t read a great deal of poetry, but I enjoyed this. Some pieces and passages in the collection more than others. Like this:
“The clock is a more complicated machine than the gun, and certainly the knife, but they all have the same final trick. There will, one day, be another war, and another, and the theory of everything comes down to grass and is simply grass, which grows long and green and endlessly. There are one hundred ways to destroy it, and one hundred more ways it will find its way back out of the dirt.“
“The clock is a more complicated machine than the gun, and certainly the knife, but they all have the same final trick. There will, one day, be another war, and another, and the theory of everything comes down to grass and is simply grass, which grows long and green and endlessly. There are one hundred ways to destroy it, and one hundred more ways it will find its way back out of the dirt.“
Read
November 27, 2019*I received an ARC of this book through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review*
I first met Michael Lee through one of his poems, titled “Pass On”, available on Button Poetry’s channel. The piece —arranged in a complex numbering of the effects of grief— tackled death, and the anger and confusion of missing someone that is gone. It was a touching, beautiful poem in which pain morphed into hope, into learning to let go. Instantly, I became a fan, and I often found myself quoting “Pass On”, going back to Lee’s words whenever old sorrows threatened to drown: “Death does not come when a body is too exhausted to live. / Death comes, because the brilliance inside us can only be contained for so long”.
It goes without saying, then, that when I saw Lee’s debut on NetGalley’s shelves, I requested it immediately. I thought that, like I do most poetry books, I would read it in a few hours —a few days, at most. Expectations are often mistaken and, instead, I found myself reading slowly, and spending more than a month between the book’s pages.
At first, I couldn’t pinpoint why; poetry is a genre I gulp, but Lee’s words stayed on my tongue, clinging, as the words went down my throat letter by agonizing letter. I hesitated at the end of each page, dismayed, unsure, needing a pause. After a while, after weeks, I understood. Beyond Death —whom I’ve only faced through biology’s sudden failings, ugly, but without culprits—, I couldn’t connect to the subject matter of many of the poems in this book. Alcoholism has always been a distant specter, haunting other grounds; in adulthood, I haven’t lost close friends and relatives to controlled substances, or suicide, or senseless violence. That anger, that grief, is alien. Feeling privileged, I found myself jarred by the disconnection, so different from what “Pass On” evoked in me years before. I expected to connect immediately to Lee’s words; I didn’t.
Often, we say that books take us to new worlds, to distant lands across time and space. Poetry is as much about finding oneself reflected in it, as it is about glimpsing distant experiences. The disconnection slowed my reading, but the words —once swallowed— simmered and toppled over, demanding reactions and thoughts, and I couldn’t stop thinking. Even now, as I write this review, I keep going over the lines I highlighted, turning them like one does a dice, inspecting their arrangements in new lights.
When, at last, I started connecting with scattered pieces across the book —in particular, The Study of Doors and Knowing, and Just Yesterday—, the whole became stronger. Now, I could appreciate Lee’s work, with and without the emotional connection. And he’s a hard-hitting, fantastic wordsmith.
“The Only Words We Know” is a solid debut, written with the sort of crude honesty that crisscrosses over one’s heart. Visceral. Sincere. Sharp. Its imagery, which never feels superficial, is refreshing, provocative sans fanfare. And there’s plenty of imaginative pieces, too; Self-Erasure as Applied to My Memory, for example, which is repeated a few times, with more words erased from the poem in each consecutive iteration. What is more, each poem works on its own, but taken together, the self-erasure becomes real, literal, and the effect is strikingly poignant.
If these are the only words he knows, Lee uses them very well. I’ll share some of my favorites:
“For my final wish, another
final wish. The end
is a kind of current.
You could light
a whole city
on what is gone.”
“There are still, in the end, atoms shivering
between us. In this way none of us ever
really touch, and the blade hovers there
forever, and my hand never slides
across his casket or holds the morning
paper hot with his name. Even now
I feel his face warm against mine…”
“My math teacher steps
toward the blackboard proving
that if you continue to halve
a distance between two points
you will never reach the end.”
“Eventually, everything that can look will look
away, and our memory, which is a kind of faith,
will be unable to carry even itself.”
I don’t think this book is for everyone, and I would advise particular caution to those triggered by mentions of drug abuse, self-harm, alcoholism and suicidal thoughts. But I don’t think any book is for everyone and, without hesitation, I recommend this debut to all fans of spoken poetry and of Button’s previous books. Maybe it won’t be what they expected, like it wasn’t for me, but that’s an adventure worth undertaking, too!
I first met Michael Lee through one of his poems, titled “Pass On”, available on Button Poetry’s channel. The piece —arranged in a complex numbering of the effects of grief— tackled death, and the anger and confusion of missing someone that is gone. It was a touching, beautiful poem in which pain morphed into hope, into learning to let go. Instantly, I became a fan, and I often found myself quoting “Pass On”, going back to Lee’s words whenever old sorrows threatened to drown: “Death does not come when a body is too exhausted to live. / Death comes, because the brilliance inside us can only be contained for so long”.
It goes without saying, then, that when I saw Lee’s debut on NetGalley’s shelves, I requested it immediately. I thought that, like I do most poetry books, I would read it in a few hours —a few days, at most. Expectations are often mistaken and, instead, I found myself reading slowly, and spending more than a month between the book’s pages.
At first, I couldn’t pinpoint why; poetry is a genre I gulp, but Lee’s words stayed on my tongue, clinging, as the words went down my throat letter by agonizing letter. I hesitated at the end of each page, dismayed, unsure, needing a pause. After a while, after weeks, I understood. Beyond Death —whom I’ve only faced through biology’s sudden failings, ugly, but without culprits—, I couldn’t connect to the subject matter of many of the poems in this book. Alcoholism has always been a distant specter, haunting other grounds; in adulthood, I haven’t lost close friends and relatives to controlled substances, or suicide, or senseless violence. That anger, that grief, is alien. Feeling privileged, I found myself jarred by the disconnection, so different from what “Pass On” evoked in me years before. I expected to connect immediately to Lee’s words; I didn’t.
Often, we say that books take us to new worlds, to distant lands across time and space. Poetry is as much about finding oneself reflected in it, as it is about glimpsing distant experiences. The disconnection slowed my reading, but the words —once swallowed— simmered and toppled over, demanding reactions and thoughts, and I couldn’t stop thinking. Even now, as I write this review, I keep going over the lines I highlighted, turning them like one does a dice, inspecting their arrangements in new lights.
When, at last, I started connecting with scattered pieces across the book —in particular, The Study of Doors and Knowing, and Just Yesterday—, the whole became stronger. Now, I could appreciate Lee’s work, with and without the emotional connection. And he’s a hard-hitting, fantastic wordsmith.
“The Only Words We Know” is a solid debut, written with the sort of crude honesty that crisscrosses over one’s heart. Visceral. Sincere. Sharp. Its imagery, which never feels superficial, is refreshing, provocative sans fanfare. And there’s plenty of imaginative pieces, too; Self-Erasure as Applied to My Memory, for example, which is repeated a few times, with more words erased from the poem in each consecutive iteration. What is more, each poem works on its own, but taken together, the self-erasure becomes real, literal, and the effect is strikingly poignant.
If these are the only words he knows, Lee uses them very well. I’ll share some of my favorites:
“For my final wish, another
final wish. The end
is a kind of current.
You could light
a whole city
on what is gone.”
“There are still, in the end, atoms shivering
between us. In this way none of us ever
really touch, and the blade hovers there
forever, and my hand never slides
across his casket or holds the morning
paper hot with his name. Even now
I feel his face warm against mine…”
“My math teacher steps
toward the blackboard proving
that if you continue to halve
a distance between two points
you will never reach the end.”
“Eventually, everything that can look will look
away, and our memory, which is a kind of faith,
will be unable to carry even itself.”
I don’t think this book is for everyone, and I would advise particular caution to those triggered by mentions of drug abuse, self-harm, alcoholism and suicidal thoughts. But I don’t think any book is for everyone and, without hesitation, I recommend this debut to all fans of spoken poetry and of Button’s previous books. Maybe it won’t be what they expected, like it wasn’t for me, but that’s an adventure worth undertaking, too!
June 2, 2022
reads like a very personal diary, describes the grief and sorrow of losing someone and losing yourself while trying to recover from both. my personal favorite excerpts were:
"what's a little more pain when pain's eternal?"
"i reached so far into the medicine cabinet my hand came back out through my mouth"
"i looked into the mirror so long i forgot who i was"
"when you were killed, i began to write letters to my own murderer. i dropped them off at the post office with no address. now, in my 30th year, one by one at my doorstep. what a terrible magic, the day we find out who we really are"
"what's a little more pain when pain's eternal?"
"i reached so far into the medicine cabinet my hand came back out through my mouth"
"i looked into the mirror so long i forgot who i was"
"when you were killed, i began to write letters to my own murderer. i dropped them off at the post office with no address. now, in my 30th year, one by one at my doorstep. what a terrible magic, the day we find out who we really are"
September 29, 2019
A beautiful debut -- Such a mesmerising and heartbreaking collection of poetry.
It tackles sensitive topics like sobriety so I couldn't help but picture Mr Sherlock Holmes writing some of the poems and proses. Although brutally honest, the writing truly galvanised me.
Thank you, Button Poetry and Netgalley for the free copy in exchange for an honest review.
It tackles sensitive topics like sobriety so I couldn't help but picture Mr Sherlock Holmes writing some of the poems and proses. Although brutally honest, the writing truly galvanised me.
Thank you, Button Poetry and Netgalley for the free copy in exchange for an honest review.
August 8, 2019
A writer of poems just wants their voice to be heard.
Michael Lee is a talented writer and performer of his words; a poet who can express himself and engage an audience.
Button Poetry have championed a number of poets and The Only Words We Know is a collection of Lee’s poems brought together in one publication for the first time.
He is a clever writer whose emotional expression is in your face; an octave above angry more akin to rage. Yet it doesn’t spill out in an incomprehensible tirade of violent rhetoric but in a controlled outburst of conviction and spirit.
Michael Lee is also a clever wordsmith as well as a weaver of emotional nuance as seen in some of his work here. To this end I commend ‘The Law of Halves as Applied to the Blade’ and ‘The Study of Words and Heaven’ (elsewhere titled “remember”).
I also enjoyed the disappearing poem. Firstly, it was ‘Self-Erasure’ “ ......a block of salt worn by rain, drop by drop.” Then it became ‘ Erasure ‘ with missing words and just “worn by rain.” And finally ‘Eras e’ far fewer words still, but a viable poem nonetheless.
I liked ‘Tapestry in Five Parts’ “a rusted plow the color of embers and clay.”
Other instantly gripping poems would include ‘Out There’ ‘Row’ ‘The Pill’ and ‘Leaving’.
The poet’s voice is not just contained in this book-as he can be seen in videos reading his poems across the Internet.
Poetry isn’t initially for everyone but the more you read or listen to, the wider your appreciation.
Into the mix I would want to throw Michael Lee’s work.
With his words he has something to say.
Michael Lee is a talented writer and performer of his words; a poet who can express himself and engage an audience.
Button Poetry have championed a number of poets and The Only Words We Know is a collection of Lee’s poems brought together in one publication for the first time.
He is a clever writer whose emotional expression is in your face; an octave above angry more akin to rage. Yet it doesn’t spill out in an incomprehensible tirade of violent rhetoric but in a controlled outburst of conviction and spirit.
Michael Lee is also a clever wordsmith as well as a weaver of emotional nuance as seen in some of his work here. To this end I commend ‘The Law of Halves as Applied to the Blade’ and ‘The Study of Words and Heaven’ (elsewhere titled “remember”).
I also enjoyed the disappearing poem. Firstly, it was ‘Self-Erasure’ “ ......a block of salt worn by rain, drop by drop.” Then it became ‘ Erasure ‘ with missing words and just “worn by rain.” And finally ‘Eras e’ far fewer words still, but a viable poem nonetheless.
I liked ‘Tapestry in Five Parts’ “a rusted plow the color of embers and clay.”
Other instantly gripping poems would include ‘Out There’ ‘Row’ ‘The Pill’ and ‘Leaving’.
The poet’s voice is not just contained in this book-as he can be seen in videos reading his poems across the Internet.
Poetry isn’t initially for everyone but the more you read or listen to, the wider your appreciation.
Into the mix I would want to throw Michael Lee’s work.
With his words he has something to say.
September 21, 2019
This collection is a powerful window into the pain of survival. It is written with unyielding, refreshingly uncensored honesty. There is no reliance on braiding pretty words together, just a stark and quiet power that struck me like a blow (to the head, heart, and gut all at once) from the first word to the last.
When asked about the death of his son, one of the things Nick Cave said that stayed with me was - “If we love, we grieve”. The author Loves deeply.
If you have ever loved, read this. If you have grieved (though sources of grief are never finite), read this. If you are a friend of Bill’s. Read this. Words rise off these pages and touch you where you thought nobody would ever reach. They give shape to pain, affection, memory, solitude, and loss in a way that is commanding, baring, and comforting all at once.
I will be waiting for more. 5 stars is not enough. It seems silly to force a frame onto this intensely intimate selection of pieces of a heart, but such is the time we live in. I hope that my writing this will help put this book into the hands of even just one more person that really needs to read it. You know who you are.
And to Michael, if you see this -
Thank you.
When asked about the death of his son, one of the things Nick Cave said that stayed with me was - “If we love, we grieve”. The author Loves deeply.
If you have ever loved, read this. If you have grieved (though sources of grief are never finite), read this. If you are a friend of Bill’s. Read this. Words rise off these pages and touch you where you thought nobody would ever reach. They give shape to pain, affection, memory, solitude, and loss in a way that is commanding, baring, and comforting all at once.
I will be waiting for more. 5 stars is not enough. It seems silly to force a frame onto this intensely intimate selection of pieces of a heart, but such is the time we live in. I hope that my writing this will help put this book into the hands of even just one more person that really needs to read it. You know who you are.
And to Michael, if you see this -
Thank you.
September 16, 2019
I had the pleasure of hearing Michael read at the Spirit Room in Rochester, NY. His poems were so gripping, I knew I had to snag a copy of his book.
As I read them, I heard his voice in my ears. These poems are sharp and powerful, and reminded me of the Hanif Abdurraqib and Ocean Vuong stuff I've been reading earlier this year. Lots of exploration of death, grief, addiction, and despair.
Looking forward to seeing what else Lee writes.
As I read them, I heard his voice in my ears. These poems are sharp and powerful, and reminded me of the Hanif Abdurraqib and Ocean Vuong stuff I've been reading earlier this year. Lots of exploration of death, grief, addiction, and despair.
Looking forward to seeing what else Lee writes.
December 26, 2019
The Only Worlds We Know by Michael Lee - Book Review
The Only Worlds We Know by Michael Lee is a small book of poems. The poems talk about pain, loss, grief, addiction and people we love. I felt that the poems are very intense. There were a little loud and on the darker side but certain lines in the poems make you pause and re-read to understand the depth. There is a honesty in thee author's words that exume an out of the world philosophy.
The pain in the poems hits the reader hard. It's short but very strong. This book took me by surprise. Definitely a remarkable debut by the author Michael Lee!
The Only Worlds We Know by Michael Lee is a small book of poems. The poems talk about pain, loss, grief, addiction and people we love. I felt that the poems are very intense. There were a little loud and on the darker side but certain lines in the poems make you pause and re-read to understand the depth. There is a honesty in thee author's words that exume an out of the world philosophy.
The pain in the poems hits the reader hard. It's short but very strong. This book took me by surprise. Definitely a remarkable debut by the author Michael Lee!
May 23, 2020
Thank you to Button Poetry for gifting me a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
I’m back and kicking off the new year with a review of Michael Lee’s debut collection of poetry "The Only Worlds We Know". Right away from the title, it’s clear that Lee is going to question his perspective and reality, and therefore you will too.
Lee explores the human condition from his perspective. In the mist of raining bullets and clouded grief, he struggles with his most complicated demons, and together they learn to settle some things.
Throughout this collection, Lee covers a variety of topics. I was especially intrigued by his thoughts on addition. He talks about the addicts in his life, those dead and those still dying, and then talks about his own struggle with alcohol. By doing this, he covers two perspectives and gives his readers a 360 view of the situation. It’s clear that he has envisioned his own dead, and uses other people’s stories to heal himself.
Lee asks numerous questions, each simple enough to comprehend, yet complex enough to leave you stumped.
“How much liquor can the body hold
until the body leaves itself behind?”
Within the first poem of this collection, Lee gives us a vivid imagine of two lovers in bed together. He settles into this one moment just long enough before pulling us out and asking us a questions. This control over his readers is profound.
“you fall asleep & both awaken
to a gunshot in the dark —
like a single string
in the instrument of night
had snapped —
& she crawls into your arms
for protection — but of course not the real kind,
because that bullet, if aimed at you,
what have gone though you both —
what does it mean when you realize
that all love is: a small & feeble sheather
from the inevitable?”
Enjoy some of my favorite quotes and questions from "The Only Worlds We Know",
“It was the year
I remembered and remembered and remembered,
the act of remembering like sharpening a blade until
the blade is gone.”
“what is indifference
if not a kind of violence we must each survive
but won’t.”
“The clock is a more complicated machine than the gun.”
“Death,
though it is final, is also hesitant and unsure.”
“Everyone wants
us to spill poetically, in a way
that goes down easy–"
I’m back and kicking off the new year with a review of Michael Lee’s debut collection of poetry "The Only Worlds We Know". Right away from the title, it’s clear that Lee is going to question his perspective and reality, and therefore you will too.
Lee explores the human condition from his perspective. In the mist of raining bullets and clouded grief, he struggles with his most complicated demons, and together they learn to settle some things.
Throughout this collection, Lee covers a variety of topics. I was especially intrigued by his thoughts on addition. He talks about the addicts in his life, those dead and those still dying, and then talks about his own struggle with alcohol. By doing this, he covers two perspectives and gives his readers a 360 view of the situation. It’s clear that he has envisioned his own dead, and uses other people’s stories to heal himself.
Lee asks numerous questions, each simple enough to comprehend, yet complex enough to leave you stumped.
“How much liquor can the body hold
until the body leaves itself behind?”
Within the first poem of this collection, Lee gives us a vivid imagine of two lovers in bed together. He settles into this one moment just long enough before pulling us out and asking us a questions. This control over his readers is profound.
“you fall asleep & both awaken
to a gunshot in the dark —
like a single string
in the instrument of night
had snapped —
& she crawls into your arms
for protection — but of course not the real kind,
because that bullet, if aimed at you,
what have gone though you both —
what does it mean when you realize
that all love is: a small & feeble sheather
from the inevitable?”
Enjoy some of my favorite quotes and questions from "The Only Worlds We Know",
“It was the year
I remembered and remembered and remembered,
the act of remembering like sharpening a blade until
the blade is gone.”
“what is indifference
if not a kind of violence we must each survive
but won’t.”
“The clock is a more complicated machine than the gun.”
“Death,
though it is final, is also hesitant and unsure.”
“Everyone wants
us to spill poetically, in a way
that goes down easy–"
December 29, 2023
A beautifully written book with some great lines. I could feel every emotion of the poet and was rooting for them by the end. Brilliantly executed and I have so many lines to quote
"It was the year I didn’t sleep, but could not leave my bed."
"What magic, to walk through a door and then appear again as ink in the Sunday paper."
"I rested beside the dam and felt as insignificant as its mist, and in this way, briefly free."
"What was each brick in that town if not indifferent to my wandering in its dim light, and what is indifference if not a kind of violence we must each survive but won’t."
"What is the difference between memory and dream? For which is it appropriate to grieve? If both were a kind of kindling, which might you suggest we burn"
"Though somehow I find myself praying through my laughter as the water gathers around my ankles. I try it sometimes, prayer that is, in secret but I keep noticing I’m doing it. Look, I’ve caught myself. I’m not even a half decent non-believer."
"If love is a city two people make then it is also a place that has no use when its people leave"
"It was the year I didn’t sleep, but could not leave my bed."
"What magic, to walk through a door and then appear again as ink in the Sunday paper."
"I rested beside the dam and felt as insignificant as its mist, and in this way, briefly free."
"What was each brick in that town if not indifferent to my wandering in its dim light, and what is indifference if not a kind of violence we must each survive but won’t."
"What is the difference between memory and dream? For which is it appropriate to grieve? If both were a kind of kindling, which might you suggest we burn"
"Though somehow I find myself praying through my laughter as the water gathers around my ankles. I try it sometimes, prayer that is, in secret but I keep noticing I’m doing it. Look, I’ve caught myself. I’m not even a half decent non-believer."
"If love is a city two people make then it is also a place that has no use when its people leave"
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July 21, 2020This is difficult to rate, so I haven't given it a rating. I'm a poetry newbie, starting out with accessible 'Instagram' poetry and moving onto some I have seen as spoken piece through Button Poetry which is where i found this book.
I loved some of these poems. The memories ones were very clever and the format of others I really appreciated such as 'Row' with the placement of the lines. I also appreciated the rawness of the poems, a lot refer to suicide, addiction, death, grief, violence and are a difficult read, some even made me tear up. Lee has a way of ending his poems abruptly, which in some cases left me confused, in others it added to the impact and effect of the poem, the uncertainty and unknowing he was trying to convey.
However others I just didn't understand fully. I got an impression of what Lee was referring to but couldn't piece it together and I think my inexperience with poetry contributed to my lack of understanding. I hope if I read this again, with more focus, I may be able to appreciate these poems more.
I loved some of these poems. The memories ones were very clever and the format of others I really appreciated such as 'Row' with the placement of the lines. I also appreciated the rawness of the poems, a lot refer to suicide, addiction, death, grief, violence and are a difficult read, some even made me tear up. Lee has a way of ending his poems abruptly, which in some cases left me confused, in others it added to the impact and effect of the poem, the uncertainty and unknowing he was trying to convey.
However others I just didn't understand fully. I got an impression of what Lee was referring to but couldn't piece it together and I think my inexperience with poetry contributed to my lack of understanding. I hope if I read this again, with more focus, I may be able to appreciate these poems more.
September 9, 2019
Content warnings: discussion of death, drug abuse, mention of needles, knives, guns for self-harm usage, suicidal ideations, reference to suicides, depression
This could have been a 4 star read for me, but I struggled to connect to the majority of the poems. There were some really powerful poems and lines in the collection. I think I will return to this collection one day, I perhaps wasn’t ready to read it.
This could have been a 4 star read for me, but I struggled to connect to the majority of the poems. There were some really powerful poems and lines in the collection. I think I will return to this collection one day, I perhaps wasn’t ready to read it.
October 21, 2019
I think this is my favorite poetry collection of the year. Lee writes about loss and love and addiction and moving between worlds with such loveliness that I keep rereading individual poems and sections and wishing that this book would never end. A really introspective, thoughtful book that is the PERFECT fall read. The writing is also really accessible, so non-poetry fans will find it just as beautiful as diehard poetry fans. Highly recommend!
January 8, 2020
Overall, I love Michael Lee's work, and this book is a gem. I personally felt that some of the poems in the middle of the collection were not as strong as the beginning and closing poems, but honestly, even the poems I didn't like were pretty damn good. Please note: trigger warning for death, drug addiction, alcoholism, suicide, gun violence, and probably some other topics I'm forgetting. The emotional punch is intense, so take care of yourself as you read.
February 14, 2020
4.75/5 Stars
Michael Lee's poetry is absolutely astounding and covers hard-hitting topics such as losing a friends to violence as well as addiction and recovery with a delicate touch. His prose feel almost melodic in the best way possible. There were some pieces I personally couldn't connect with that kept me from rating this a full 5 stars, but rating it just 4.5 felt too low at the same time so this one sits at a lovely 4.75. I adored this collection and would highly recommend it.
Michael Lee's poetry is absolutely astounding and covers hard-hitting topics such as losing a friends to violence as well as addiction and recovery with a delicate touch. His prose feel almost melodic in the best way possible. There were some pieces I personally couldn't connect with that kept me from rating this a full 5 stars, but rating it just 4.5 felt too low at the same time so this one sits at a lovely 4.75. I adored this collection and would highly recommend it.
August 7, 2021
In what feels like the age of poetry being commercialized by "insta-poetry" and false depth, Michael comforts the reader in reassuring them that they are in for a collection of strong and harsh literature that sticks with you! Tackling grief, addiction and loss, even the few duller moments of this collection don't leave the reader feeling at a loss for indulging.
August 9, 2019
The Only Worlds We Know by author Michael Lee is outstanding poetry done in a lovely manner! I definitely recommend this one!
Thank you Netgalley and the publisher for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Thank you Netgalley and the publisher for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
October 28, 2019
an absolutely stunning debut collection of poems. i’m having trouble finding good words to describe it, but just know this is the type of collection that compels you to get out your own journal & pen in its wake.
November 7, 2019
I've read this beautiful book twice. It's so compelling , that I return to it and begin again for each time I observe something new. As a sunset or a sunrise, each consecutive read brings something new.
December 27, 2019
I first heard of Michael Lee through Button Poetry, specifically the beautiful cinematic rendition of his poem 'Pass On', which dealt with the grief of his friend Stephen's murder. This poem (along with Neil Hilborn's OCD) became the bedrock of me venturing into spoken word poetry and establishing a community in my city.
I snatched this ARC up as soon as I found it on NetGalley.
It took me a surprisingly long time to get through, partly because a lot of the pieces didn't resonate, and partly because there was a lot of grief and death that I didn't want to process in one sitting. Stephen makes cameos here and there, which is expected and represents a passing milestone that I can recognise. Poetry is how we make sense of a senseless world, no?
Here's a snippet of Lee digging through the mess and finding lines:
I curse archeologists
for their basic tools telling us
basic things.
Sometimes I think scientists are lazy. I too
could dig a heart out of a chest,
but what do any of them know
about pulling the history from a body
without killing it?
This eARC was courtesy of NetGalley.
I snatched this ARC up as soon as I found it on NetGalley.
It took me a surprisingly long time to get through, partly because a lot of the pieces didn't resonate, and partly because there was a lot of grief and death that I didn't want to process in one sitting. Stephen makes cameos here and there, which is expected and represents a passing milestone that I can recognise. Poetry is how we make sense of a senseless world, no?
Here's a snippet of Lee digging through the mess and finding lines:
I curse archeologists
for their basic tools telling us
basic things.
Sometimes I think scientists are lazy. I too
could dig a heart out of a chest,
but what do any of them know
about pulling the history from a body
without killing it?
This eARC was courtesy of NetGalley.
March 8, 2020
Thank you Michael for your poems and words about grief, death, and wanting life to be more...more than I have but thankful for what I have and what I have seen live and seen die, over and over. Thank you...
June 5, 2020
Michael's work is as beautiful as night sky. I couldn't stop reading once I started. Such a perfect fit into my button poetry collection. The style and structure of poems make them really aesthetically beautiful
January 21, 2021
I’ve known nights so cold the body is unlikely
to bleed. I have braved my own heart and swung
a hammer so honestly that smoke curled off
the nail. Still there was no sound. Each moment
of winter is so faint and silent it is a memory
even as you live it
❤️❤️❤️❤️
Somewhere there is a classroom
comprised of all my dead friends—
as they were once—pledging allegiance
to a Polaroid developing forever.
🥺😭😭😭
to bleed. I have braved my own heart and swung
a hammer so honestly that smoke curled off
the nail. Still there was no sound. Each moment
of winter is so faint and silent it is a memory
even as you live it
❤️❤️❤️❤️
Somewhere there is a classroom
comprised of all my dead friends—
as they were once—pledging allegiance
to a Polaroid developing forever.
🥺😭😭😭
November 29, 2021
A collection of poems with a cold brutality befitting the topics they consider.
I’ve never read anything like it. For those in recovery or with a loved one in recovery, they will make you feel as though there is someone who hears you.
I’ve never read anything like it. For those in recovery or with a loved one in recovery, they will make you feel as though there is someone who hears you.
August 17, 2019
Such a beautiful collection of poems. The very first poem had me hooked and I just kept reading. Poems of love and death and addiction. They all made me feel so many different things. Incredible!
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