The voice of poet John Tynan in these Voice Lessons has a natural beauty all its own that is both an innate gift and a moral, as well as technical, achievement: fresh, unspoiled, casual and yet artful, never dry or contrived, always freely flowing, and of a sensibility so kind, humorous, and radically open to experience in its immediacy and depth, that it seems an inseparable, innate part of the poet’s character; and yet, again and again, in his reflections, in his lyricism, the burden of experience and memory is acknowledged and overcome by a rededication of self to love and life. If there is a lesson in these Lessons for his readers, it may be that spontaneity and immediate joy constitute not merely a state of being, but a creative act of becoming.
You can hear Tynan read three poems from Voice Lessons here.
John Tynan currently lives in Beijing, China, with his family, where he makes a living as a web developer and plays the accordion.
“Nothing could stop my heart from enjoying these memories and dreams.”
—Carol Hogan, President, Arizona State Poetry Society
“Written in the key of insight, Voice Lessons is a medley of wit and revelation—its pitch, perfect for the soul.”
—Rich Kenney, Poet and Assistant Professor of Social Work at Chadron State College, Chadron, Nebraska
“Voice Lessons refines our appreciation for the beauty that redeems impermanence. From childhood homes and grandparents to beloved dachshund companions, Tynan reminds us that nothing outlasts its own song. But his compass always points to the love behind the voice, so his tangible lyricism never gets lost in nostalgia. Throughout this debut collection, Tynan displays a knack for finding melody in the echoes of discarded things. With the flair of Hawaiian shirts and the Morse code of chirping crickets, the filament of discovery radiates on every page.”
—Shawnte Orion, author of The Existentialist Cookbook
“John Tynan amplifies the mundane with lyricism and reflection…. This collection challenges commercialism and instead praises the fruitfulness of song and imagination….”
—Isamari Camacho, in Prism Review