As a Registered Nurse, Belinda Subraman has worked in several difficult areas, but from 2001 to 2007 she was working as a hospice nurse. Hospice is the art of preparation, and when Belinda's own father reached his final days in 2008, she took what preparation she had and flew back to Carolina to assist him in his passage. No doubt she was more aware than most of us that no preparation is adequate.

Unlikely 2.0 is privileged to present the resulting book of poetry, Blue Rooms, Black Holes, White Lights. It is not an easy book of poetry to read. It is easy enough to understand—though Belinda's extensive poetic education is clear, this is essentially plain-language poetry, written to be accessible by anyone. But Belinda's brutal analysis of her grief brings the reader's own tragedies into sharp definition. The book mercilessly explores the author's most painful memories, and aspires to share the most fundamental aspects of human experience with the reader. It is by turns discomforting and comforting, in the way that great poetry is meant to be.

Blue Rooms, Black Holes, White Lights has 62 pages in a glossy paperback with poems and bio by Belinda Subraman and five full-color images by César Ivan.

A Short Sample:

In Just One Corner of One Room in My Mother’s House

A clown hangs by the neck
above four boxes of Kleenex,
a six inch ceramic Santa,
metal adjustable skates from the 1950s,
a twelve inch Barbie in a hand crocheted dress
beside a closet door so full of all
that is feared could be lost,
it cannot close.


Copies with be signed as you wish.......................