Jónína Kirton : part five

How does a poem begin?

Often, they introduce themselves with an opening line that will present itself over and over. Heard as a call to engage with pen and paper it takes me into writing. Some poems are more difficult to enter. When writing to a theme it can take some time to find that first line. I must first do research on the subject and spend time contemplating what I am learning and/or feeling as I explore the theme. This is a potent time that must be honoured. It may look like I am doing nothing, but I am in reality floating with what some might call the muse. It is not unlike tender lovemaking. It cannot be rushed.

Jónína Kirton : part four

How important is music to your poetry?

It is essential. I use a variety of music to enter my poet mind and to bring forth the memories or feelings that I want to bring into a poem. Like poetry, music enters our body and takes us on a journey which at times feels like time travel. Hearing certain songs suddenly I am twenty-three at The Zoo listening to Streetheart or Barrelhouse or at Bogart’s Nightclub disco dancing to Lionel Richie. Sometimes the lyrics provide powerful writing prompts. Other times it is the music that transports me to the place where memory and creativity merge.

I have been listening to healing ragas and chanting music for thirty years now. I experience the sound of the tap, tap, tap of finger tips and palms on the various drums as an invitation to be fearless when dealing with difficult themes like loss. At times the healing nature of the slow, steady call and response rhythm of the chants can be felt in my writing. Other times I find that the Metis fiddle and the movement of my feet brings words that are dancing the jig. When writing of my twenties I might listen to Steely Dan. Elvis Presley is pre-teen, and such dreamy stuff for me. Occasionally, I need something big and theatrical like The Phantom of the Opera or Meatloaf to elicit passion and longing. Whatever I am listening to informs the writing I do. Knowing this I become my own DJ developing playlists that will bring forth the right feeling tone to whatever I am working on.
 

Jónína Kirton : part three

When you require renewal, is there a particular poem or book that you return to? A particular author?

At sixty-three I no longer turn to books for renewal. I turn to music or I take walks. When I need to remember why I write I find working with emerging poets and reading the poetry submissions for Room Magazine or for Turtle Island Responds brings me much needed inspiration. It is often emerging poets that restore my belief in the power of poetry to bring awareness and healing to difficult issues.

Jónína Kirton : part two

What do you feel poetry can accomplish that other forms can’t?

Good poetry invites us to lean in, to be better listeners. The succinctness of it, the sparseness, leaves space for emotional truths that we may otherwise reject. It bypasses the mind, enters the body and awakens the parts of us that have been sleepwalking through life. It reminds us that other ways of knowing not only exist but are essential to our well-being. 

Jónína Kirton : part one

Jónína Kirton is a Red River Métis/Icelandic poet. Born in Portage la Prairie, Manitoba she currently lives in the unceded territory of the Musqueam, Sḵwxwú7mesh, and Tsleil-Waututh. She published her first collection of poetry at sixty. Much to her delight page as bone ~ ink as blood, was met with some critical acclaim. Her second book, An Honest Woman, was a finalist in the 2017 Dorothy Livesay Poetry Prize. Her interest in the stories of her Métis and Icelandic ancestors is the common thread throughout much of her writing.

How do you know when a poem is finished?

I let the poem lead. I am in conversation with it and it lets me know when it is done. If I do not wait for this signal, I usually regret it. Given this I will go back to the same poem over and over, moving things, making small yet significant changes. I can do this for months or years before I feel it is ready. Whenever I have rushed a poem (due to a deadline) I often find subtle but important changes that I wish I had made.