Where is he writing from? Where does he go when he writes these poems? I have no idea. Some of these lines made me perplexed, as if they are spoken from a place where the concept of "sky" and "shadow" and "death" are completely different. I looked at the lines "Death creates a blind spot. / Man is a secret, blind to himself," "Sister, we died in childhood, remember? / Into birds we died, into their flying," "A clock the bees unearth, / gathering the overspilled minutes." over and over.. Some of these poems were truly breathtaking for me. Reading the poems really made me feel the totality of how poetry is a spiritual practice for him (as opposed to an aesthetic practice for many others). The poems are mystical. Subdued power. Incomprehensible like very old runes. I think with him, poetry becomes something otherworldly. An experience. I turn the last page and return to the world, and for some reason, the realm within his pages was so much bigger, more wondrous, than the world I am in now. ( )

I imagine drinking a lot of tea while reading Behind My Eyes. I didn't but it would've felt right as Lee wraps playful and theologically weighty symbolism into quite common, mundane experiences. It was light, artful, but the poems lacked a gravitas that I appreciate, that hits me in the gut.

Lee's poems are consistently stunning, pulling together careful observation, powerful language, and graceful moments in any given line and stanza. Falling into his work is something like journeying into another space and another mind, his poems are each, from beginning to end, so carefully constructed. And yet, they seem effortless, and they are readable and engaging. Few poems in this collection are not stand-outs, and in most collections, any of these poems would leap from the pages and demand attention and re-reading.

Simply, Lee's work is powerful and forever worth reading, forever worth sharing.

Recommended. ( )

Spare but nonetheless moving, Lee's collection of poems draw on his background as the child of immigrant parents, his curiosity about the past, the conflict between a desire to assilimlate and a struggle against it. ( )