From an Unexpected Quarter

I am not one of the many rabid, love-struck fans the author seems to spawn like rumours around a Hollywood divorce. Yes, I have met the author, I saw him read in Los Angeles a few years ago, but he is neither native nor natural in front of the microphone. His intimacy is best one on one, or on the page.This is a thick book. The "goldenheart cycles" alone would've made a book as solid as most of the poetry books issued today, but they only account for about a sixth of the contents of "from an unexpected quarter". If you want to find a piece to dislike or dismiss, you'll find it. Show me a quarterback who throws nothing but touchdown passes and never an incomplete pass or interception, and I'll show you a delusion.But what is here is talent, skill, remarkable wordmsithing and a gift to reach into the soul and find the chord that resonates within you. You will feel the passion, pain, lust, rage, sorrow and sentimentality of a great writer in this book. Contemporary poets from Ruth Solomon to Larry G. Jaffe have called him one of the best this generation has to offer.Personal favorites in this book include:"from out of the city", "the darker angels" (with the incredible closing line "and God sleeps with one eye open, tonight"), Damascus (most notably parts 2 & 3) and "bare feet on a wooden floor" from "the goldenheart cycles".Give it to a lover, give it to a friend, give it to someone who laments the sorry state of modern verse, left to the hands of self-annointed "poets" who are more parforming poodles than the iron lion that is William F. DeVault. Just give it, keep it and share it.

Despite his legions of fans on the web, the author who goes by the sobriquet "The Romantic Poet of the Internet" (a title bestowed on him by Yahoo!) is virtually unknown in the real world. Perhaps this book will leverage him justice and give our society, culture and literary circles a chance to hope that maybe, just maybe, we haven't yet reached the precipice of the human heart or English-language culture. The best always seem to profoundly affect us while making it seem almost effortless. I could hate this prolific wunderkind for this, but since so many of his works speak to me on a level of intimacy rare in this soundbite society of ours, I need to be honest, as he has been with us, exposing the most intimate levels of the working sof the human soul and heart.His "anamnesis" series brings closure to relationships with women whom have fired his most intimate works. I am not ashamed to admit I wept over the first movement. His "goldenheart cycles" already an integral part of the digital renaissance tapesty, expore the emotional, spiritual and, yes, physical side of a love affair with eloquent power. His "from out of the city" still stands as a wake up call to the madness of "the violence of indifference". You might as well read it now, your grandchildren will be writing their Master's theses on this man's works.That said, this is not a book for everyone. Some people lack the maturity to comprehend, or the open mindedness to accept, the poweer of this singular poet's eroticism and romanticism. As with Tagore and Hugo, two authors he is often equated with, he does not readily fit the star making machinery of our modern culture and thus may seem even alien to less insightful, less sophisticated readers.When he reeaches out to his audience, his voice carries a promise of jasmine and sweat, strong medicine for the frail hearts. And for those capable of accepting his same touch as the convent schoolgirl in "a touch of Heather", it is a caress by the hands of genius.