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Amantine Brodeur

literary  alchelmist


Songs from Quarantine Bay

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        It was a bruising day. At some point, later, nursing a pair of bandaged, swollen knees, after a hard fall, I listen for you in the silence,

wondering as to the fibrous connective tissue of memory and absence.

All I hear is the slow whispering back of discolouring dark, soft bruising that will mark my skin for weeks. I hear he's passed away too, last July

 - a year to the month, perhaps, even the day to yours. 


Did his body drown like yours with alcoholic saturation?

Some stranger, a cousin of his - seems far too young by the FB headshot

grinning through spectacles, I'm told seeks me out and still no word.

perhaps never. I stare at a photograph of the pair of you

with two strangers in some local pub; the distances between you all,

unfathomable. I know none of you; only two names wrapped

between July, of fabric sunk in booze and eyes which look beyond

the lens, and beyond me, backward, into their pain; tender, fragile,

brittle, each seeking asylum in bruised voices and impossible stories

of hard falling.
My bandaged heart wearing observance as ritual kneels, to the sudden
startling of wings. A pair of Hadeda ibises resettle on the lawn, death's
foreboding for some and mid their squawk-calling, I see you reflected
against the glass, shadow memory of your feral romantic affection for the
beauty of these 'graylings'.
And I wonder what if your life had taken flight . . .

"arranged women"

Gogyohshi Series
by Davor Rapaić


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Glass Sculpture

  falling slowly

Praise & Reviews

Gathered from a specific time, when surrounded by loss - not only in her personal relationships, but via the media coverage of warzones, as well as her own experiences of civil conflict - the normalising of the inconceivable, collective grief, and her homeland apartheid, layers of meanings gradually become apparent, visit after visit.  From the visible to the emotional lanscape, Amantine explore the realities of the underlying lament of women living in the world of today, without fully revealing them.Overarching all of these experiences is the undeniable longing for intimacy, for connection and joy that exists, regardless of the situation. These understandings are as relevant as they have ever been.

Marcelle Newbold from her Preface

"Predicate of My Unmade Bed" is one I want to introduce to many. Like all good poets, Amantine Brodeur questions the form that creates 'widow ligatures' and all that hyphenation', but knows it to be the best form to deliver clarity, cryptically. This is beautiful stuff.


Elizabeth Kien. Author of The Bolshoi Saga


Amantine Brodeur explores literary alchemy through poetry, inter-discplinary collaborations, experimental short fiction and the literary novel. Her work has been published online and in print; among these include anthologies, journals and magazines: during the 2020  Covid lockdown she was fortunate to have her work featured in Deep Time, Vol One from Black Bough Poetry, iamb Wave Three curated and published by Mark Antony Owen, the July issue of Pink Plastic House,,  the online and print anthologies of 100 Words of Solitude, and her quartet on "Beckettian women" was featured in Thrice Fiction Volume 2, No 1 .

FALLING SLOWLY, a collection of curated poems, edited by Marcelle Newbold and published b Book Hub Publishing Group, Ireland.


MIKE FOX  Short Story Writer.

"Amantine Brodeur is, in my experience, a singular voice within poetry. Her poems are not easy to classify, nor, I feel, are they meant to be. They suggest deep personal insight into the pain and incoherence so often latent in the human condition. She writes from a place of interiority, almost of self-explanation, describing the psychological and personal fractures that life can inflict with a vivid palette of images and metaphors."

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