The Last Syrian Bear

From Beirut Again
By Allen West

Behind bars, he’s a rug,
dirt-brown as mountain
dust, until he lumbers
to his feet full-formed,

a looming bulk, shoulders
humped, and the eyes,
ochre, leveled on mine.
He doesn’t show his teeth,

just stands there naked,
not attending to his bowl
of bones.  With me alone
he prowls back and forth.

If I stop, he stops.  If
I walk, he walks.  His snout
sniffs the air, spurning
the smell of his cage,

the clutch of his cage,
and I am the boy
who lives in his mountains,
come down to console him.

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Beirut Again
By Allen West
Allen West’s new book of poetry, begins with his childhood in Beirut where he was born in 1930. The poems follow the trajectory of his return to the U.S. and his life through marriage, the death of his father and his wife, the return to Beirut in the 21st century. West’s roots in the Middle East are deep: his father was born in Beirut, his grandmother in Damascus.

All through this sensuous, graceful book West retains a childhood freshness. He treats life’s hardships with a light but serious touch, moving deftly from the dizziness of first love to the pathos of tending his dying wife.

There are many winged creatures in this book — ducks, bats, crows, moths, as well as kites, paper airplanes, and a hand-carved wooden propeller, “. . . our little helicopter threatening nothing.” But though West takes delight in what is airborne, he is also firmly planted on the earth. We see what the clean, arid landscape of Lebanon has given him and, reading these poems, we have the gift he has given us in return.

Praise for Beirut Again

“ . . . personal lyrics, exploring the events and circumstances of one man's life, and at the same time untethered from the personal by their attention to history and geography The poems range over three wars and several continents as West learns to write his name, ‘Platonic, by itself,’ and then witness that self in its various incarnations. ‘Who have I been?’ he asks. . . . ‘I am not what I was.’ Although the poems are self-reflective, West does not come to any easy conclusions. . . ”

     — Wendy Mnookin, author of To Get Here and What He Took

“ . . . a stunning achievement and epic in its sweep — from childhood in Beirut to first loves to loss to the singing resilience that loss can bring. The language is musical and evocative: ‘a broom's used beauty,’ ‘Kleenex crumpled up both sleeves/ of her kimono crawling with blue dragons.’ . . . Rarely have I read a book that moves so gracefully through the topography of a lifetime.”

     — Grey Held, winner of a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship in Poetry