How does a poem begin?
In my head. Somewhere in amongst the endless chatter there might be a phrase or an image that keeps reasserting itself, sufficient to overcome any inertia I may have to sit down and try to make something of it. Recent examples include: a discarded scrabble tile with my initial on it, an unusual menu item and a re-remembered school chemistry lesson. These fragments may sit in a notebook for some time before I pick them up, but eventually I find I must.
What do you feel poetry can accomplish that other forms can't?
Poetry can slip seamlessly into daily life. It can be written on public walls, embroidered on scarves, tattooed on skin, sent as a postcard, quoted in scientific papers, and sung as a song. It can be tweeted or written out by hand in a love letter. Poetry can be part of a movie or a novel. Poetry can ride the bus or subway as a poetry poster. Poetry can be memorized and carried anywhere in one's mind. Poetry can combine and contain fiction and fact, philosophy and science, music and art and much more.
Has your consideration of poetry changed since you began?
I used to believe in some combo of “great poetry above all else” and “writing/reading poetry makes people better people.” Oops. I don’t know. I still really do believe deeply in the process. I really do believe there is something inherently valuable about the practices of attention, expression, imagination, and openness nurtured by reading and writing poetry. I guess it’s when we move from process to product, from practice to profession, that things go awry.
What other poetry books have you been reading lately?
I’m always looking for new poets to read and explore and, luckily, on my course I get the chance to explore a range of people and their work both on the module reading but also by exploring and finding new writers for assessments. Recently I have read Alice Oswald, Ada Limon, Rachel Allen, Denise Riley, Pascale Petit, Kimiko Hahn, and so many other amazing poets. There’s nothing better a poet can do than reading other poets' work. It is truly beneficial to see what other people are doing both to inspire your work and for the sheer joy of reading poetry.
What poets changed the way you thought about writing?
There are so many. Going way back to the very beginning, I think of Eavan Boland and Samuel Beckett. Eavan Boland was pivotal to my writing because for the first time I became aware of what it really meant to be a woman writer and to explore issues relating to my gender. She was a fierce advocate of women poets, a light-bearer. On a personal level, I always felt a kinship because I grew up abroad (my father was also a diplomat) and that disconnect from a home/homeland and my cultural identity has always been something that I really struggled with. I am also a painter and I have always loved that connection between Eavan and her mother, the painter Frances Kelly. The description of colours and details in her poetry have that connection. I go to Boland for language and connection. However my poems have little of the domestic “dailiness” that marks so much of her work.
Samuel Becket because I am attracted to the experimental, abstract and intellectual nature of his work. I love his poetry as much as his plays. Nearly all of my early poems were abstract and quite avant-garde and I would never have written them without studying Samuel Beckett. I still enjoy playing with allegory and pushing language and form.
When you require renewal, is there a particular poem or book that you return to? A particular author?
I return often to TEETH by Aracelis Girmay and Tougaloo Blues by Kelly Norman Ellis. Those books feel central to my work in that they build community with their poems – they welcome and gather people to the table. They celebrate and honor – hold up and hold close. I love everything about those collections. And I am returning often to the writers that mix genres and write and experiment with their work like Renée Watson, Krista Franklin, Fatimah Asghar and Rachelle Cruz. Often, I am returning to their work and seeing how they shape the future with their words.
When you require renewal, is there a particular poem or book that you return to? A particular author?
The Staying Alive anthology, edited by Neil Astley, has got me through some hard times. Not Waving but Drowning by Stevie Smith is probably my most-returned-to poem, along with Tennyson’s In Memoriam A.H.H. #54.
