Review of Grimoire by Peruvian poet, Rocío Uchofen

The etymology of Grimoire goes back to the Greek “gramma” ( letter) and the Latin “Grammática” (grammar) The word itself names a book of spells and takes us to remote Gothic times where the words and their permutations were powerful enough to make changes. Poems are made of words, words create images. Grateful to read @jacobreubenmoses poetry of change and wisdom, his Grimoire finds the magic scene and the words to transmit us beautiful, foretelling images like the poem “Vision Quest”: “ My father’s legacy exists in Martling’s Pond…” #newpoetrybook #statenislandpoets #statenislandpoetry #poetsofinstagram

-Rocío Uchofen, poet

Review of Grimoire by poet/visual artist Kyoko Heshiimu

“Jacob R. Moses is a self proclaimed wizard, whose collection of poetry ‘Grimoire’ exemplifies a mystical and magical feel from the cover of the book to the words spoken inside. He speaks through his own experiences of addiction and depression, while battling his inner demons to embrace a sense of inner spirituality. One of my favorite poems, ‘Anthems,’ reads as a self mantra where he is assuring himself he is in control. His poems can feel at times like dreams – structured around themes of animals and plants, as well as emotional struggles and growth. His ancestors are mentioned throughout guiding him as he delves into his self healing through the chaos in his head. I was taken away by how his words sound like spells being cast into the air when spoken out loud -‘Sueños oscuros; somos la única luz’ as heard in the lines from his poem ‘Medianoche.’ I found myself reading the poems straight through and was astonished by how smoothly each topic aligned with the theme of each chapter connecting the whole feel of the book and its majestic concept. I couldn’t recommend this book any more. It is a wonderful body of work and I am proud to include it on my shelf next to all the other authors of his caliber.”

-Kyoko Heshiimu, poet/visual artist

Please Show Your Process (After Gertrude Stein)

Photo by Pixabay on

Golden ratio
One minus square root of five divided by two
1 – sq rt. 5/2
One less derivation, primarily divided duplicates

One point…
No one one won
No no
No one won
No one won one!
One won?

Is this a product or of sci-fi?
Or a dividend of psi phi?
Nope, just phi
The phI
Die phi

One plus one divided by one plus one divided by one plus one…
I am split between myself
In addition, I got myself over myself
Getting over myself and adding myself once more

Dizzy mole

Hex a decimal

Infinity reached through the algorithm of creation

-Jack M. Freedman (Jacob Moses)

Published by Statorec

Calculations (Winner of the 2004 NYC College of Technology Literary Arts Festival in Poetry)

Photo by Deepak Gautam on

Allow me to add my two cents to the situation.
In return, I would like you to subtract the rhetoric that exits your lips
And assist me in keeping divisions from multiplying.
Before I go off on a tangent,
Let me tell you about the problem I have evaluated.
You see, it seems as if every move you make is calculated.

I have tried to mind my P’s and Q’s regarding this issue,
But I cannot help myself from arriving at the solution
That your ego induced pollution is planned out like a logic proof
Or an algebraic matrix
Or a quadratic equation
Or a manic locomotive.

From Day 1, I was able to graph the main points in my brain
To the axes labeled X and Y
X signifies your attempts to censor others
Y, because you can.
My rage is the product of your strategy to further an agenda.
It is merely a fraction of this anger being portrayed.
That’s right, just a percentage.
Your position on the number scale of aggravation cannot be located with mortal eyes.
It stretches out to an infinite number of miles.
There is no final integer.

You see, a range of things bother and depress me,
And my mood not only swings like a pendulum in a grandfather clock
But also descends and ascends like a parabola.
Therefore, I must dig within my brain and use prior knowledge obtained
To plot a path across the map
On the way to a poem marked with a black X.
For the most part, I think I do a damn good job at getting from A to B
WITHOUT the help of a tutor.
I am comfortable with what I know
And I embrace it
Whatever “knowledge” I may lack is on me,
But I know
That you don’t know squat
If you think you know
What little I know.
Do you think I care.

I mean not for this writing to encompass a circular argument
But like a 180 degree angle,
Let’s get something straight
And settle this score.
I am neither a letter
Nor a number
Nor a remedial student.
I am just a man with a voice that some may consider noise
That triggers violent waves.

Aren’t we supposed to be equal?
Shouldn’t symbols resembling more than and less than
Not be applied or be crossed out?
Can’t we eliminate:
All unnecessary variables?
All unnecessary formulas?
All unnecessary postulates?
All unnecessary theorems?
All unnecessary programs?
Cross multiples?

This long division has gone on for too long.
Repeating multiple times like 1/3 written as a decimal.
Statistics do not reject this claim,
Although some want it to be a syntax error
Or want to believe that I forgot to carry the 2 in my calculation
But the remainder of my tolerance hangs by an unraveling thread
I proudly sign my name on this thesis
And my colleagues would proudly cosign
Given that they possess research on this behavior.
So we pooled our data together.
We share a very reciprocal relationship

However, it does not take
Or Maimonides
To deduce this verbal dilemma.

Your calculations are wrong.
The atmosphere provided is negative.
The agenda cannot be defined,
For it
does not
Not by any means.
Not by any modes.
Not by any standard deviations.
So tell me,
How do you like them applications?

-Jack M. Freedman (Jacob Moses)