When Laurence Lieberman writes of Guyana or islands in the Dutch West Indies, he excavates, explores, even exhumes the essence of the place. In the flora and fauna, in the rural cafes and ruins of churches and crypts, in the taste of iguana soup and the look of light through stained glass, Lieberman unfolds an exquisite atlas of the senses.

The awe of encounter, the raw impact, beauty, and sometimes the brutality of both the surroundings and the people fuel this poetry. Whether he meets an iguana hunter, a bricklayer, a witness to the United States–led Grenada invasion, or a classical composer, Lieberman gives the reader a vivid combination of his own wit and surprising observations mingled with the speech of each character.

Folk tales, legends, and island myths play a great role in his newest work. In the eddies of a river in Guyana, Lieberman dares river demons. On the island of Aruba, he hears the chants and work songs of long-dead miners in an abandoned gold mine. He briefly loses himself when he stares into the mirror of a well once frequented by slaves on Bonaire.

Coupled with natural forces—floods, volcanic eruptions, constant rains—these folk tales and the stories of the islanders’ lives create a “wedding of sun and rain,” and a map to the troves of the Caribbean hidden beneath a rich and often violent history.

Laurence Lieberman writes poems that successfully utilize techniques from every possible form of literature—including histories, travelogues, short stories, and epics. All the while, his lines maintain a deft balance of lyrical intensity, clear, methodical description, and the pure dialect of the characters living his poetry.

In Dark Songs: Slave House and Synagogue, Lieberman creates a narrative mosaic of the eastern Caribbean islands, ranging from St. Eustatius in the eighteenth century to the island of Grenada after the United States–led invasion in 1983. When he writes of African slaves, British governors, Dutch Jews, island guerillas, fallen Swiss nobility, and piratelike charter captains, the wealth of his details, the force, and often the truth behind his stories allow us to witness the whole human saga of the Caribbean.

With humor, absolute candor, and relentless observation, Lieberman has, as reviewer Samuel Maio says, “given is a new form of fiction in his poetry. He has created a singular art.”

In his newest collection of poetry, Laurence Leiberman widens the scope of his previous Caribbean collections by drawing attention to the small enchanting islands of the Grenadines, a chain running between Grenada and St. Vincent. These outposts, often frequented by sailors, are mainly off the beaten tourist tracks. Lieberman’s poems bring to life all the overlooked people, hidden places, and indigenous but rarely seen animals which can be found on these islands.

These poems are as powerful as voodoo, full of energetic narratives in which Lieberman acts as observer while his characters—native “Caribs” and friends—guide us through the mystifying world of Guyana and the Caribbean: the planting of tree farms, local myths and religious sects, the daily crises of manual laborers working in the gold and diamond mines, and encounters with watras and harpy eagles.

Lieberman’s lines are rhythmic and strong; voices swirl in and out of his stanzas. From Lieberman’s own precise observations to his inclusion of Caribbean dialects, the language created here is deeply textured and unique. The majority of these poems are narratives, stories about a culture that is extremely attuned to the richness of its past. They remind their readers that no matter how diverse a society becomes, it remains irrevocably connected to the land it was born of and the plants and animals that struggle to survive in its midst.