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M Sarki

Besides being a poet with four collections published, M Sarki is a painter, film maker, and photographer. He likes fine coffee and long walks. 

M Sarki has written, directed, and produced six short films titled Gnoman's Bois de Rose, Biscuits and Striola , The Tools of Migrant Hunters, My Father's Kitchen, GL, and Cropped Out 2010. More details to follow. Also the author of the feature film screenplay, Alphonso Bow.

Currently reading

Inside Out: A Personal History of Pink Floyd (Reading Edition)
Nick Mason
American Witness: The Art and Life of Robert Frank
R J Smith
Why Bob Dylan Matters
Richard F. Thomas
Philip Roth
Nevertheless: A Memoir
Alec Baldwin
A $500 House in Detroit: Rebuilding an Abandoned Home and an American City
Drew Philp
Spring Song and other stories
Joyce Cary
The Dying Grass: A Novel of the Nez Perce War
William T. Vollmann
Brett Whiteley: Art, Life and the Other Thing
Ashleigh Wilson
Girlfriends, Ghosts, and Other Stories
Annette Wiesner, Nicole Kongeter, Robert Walser, Tom Whalen

Fire Shut Up in My Bones

Fire Shut Up in My Bones - Charles Blow https://msarki.tumblr.com/post/160400369043/fire-shut-up-in-my-bones-by-charles-m-blow

My disappointment in this book is unrivaled in light of the level of anticipation I had for reading this memoir. During the 2016 political campaign and the emergence of Donald J. Trump as a force to be reckoned with, Charles M. Blow took voice with the opposition and became a champion to me for his attacks on this awful man and now his presidency. Blow’s writing for the NY Times is always powerful and poignant. His appearances as a commentator on television prove to be remarkable events in themselves. But sad to say this book is a different story.

One admiring reviewer describes his awe in the author's command and use of the English language. Not so. But should have been. Too sweet and flowery for my tastes. Didn’t feel honest. And a not-so-admiring reviewer states he may have fire in his bones, but certainly not in his writing. It's tedious and boring and he takes what would be a gripping read of his difficult young life and turned it into a carefully worded, deliberately constructed poetic recitation. I get absolutely no sense of any "fire" whatsoever. I wish it were not so, but I must concur. And I know why this book fails on par with his articles. It feels as if a different man is speaking on the page. Not the Charles M. Blow I was attracted to. Sort of takes the starch out of his stance.