Síle Englert : part five

How does your work first enter the world? Do you have a social group or writers’ group that you work ideas and poems with?

Most of my writing process is quite solitary. My work begins with a lot of time spent alone in quiet rooms and in my own head, which can be isolating. I think it’s incredibly important for writers to connect with other writers and artists, both for their own well-being and the benefit to their work. Sometimes, the seed of a poem comes from conversation with someone else. For example, one of my recent pieces grew out of discussions with two other poets about being vulnerable in your writing and how it feels to put intimate pieces of yourself out into the world for other people to read.

I am lucky enough to have an incredible group of poets with whom I regularly workshop my writing. That’s usually the next step before I try to publish a piece. I’m always learning from them and my work would not be in the in the shape it’s in without their enthusiasm and expertise. They support me, challenge me and inspire me. Another aspect of the writer’s group that I really enjoy is the experience of other people’s process, the privilege of reading what they’re working on and seeing it in a more raw form.

Síle Englert : part four

What other poetry books have you been reading lately?

Lately, I’ve been fixated on a lot of brave, difficult and dazzling poetry from women. Some of my recent favourites are What to Wear When Surviving a Lion Attack by Paola Ferrante, Past Lives, Future Bodies by Kristin Chang, Voodoo Hypothesis by Canisia Lubrin and Souvankham Thammavongsa’s Cluster.

One of the reasons I love poetry as an art form so much is that it holds space for infinite voices and experiences. Some of the poems in these books draw me in to familiar places but approach them in unusual ways. Others are far outside my own experience, but I have the privilege of sitting with them for awhile and listening. And then there’s the pure delight of their art, how each of these women puts words together on the page.

Síle Englert : part three

Has your consideration of poetry changed since you began?

My ideas around what poetry actually is, have undergone constant, sweeping change since I began to write. It’s been a sort of evolutionary process. When you’re very young, poetry is nursery rhymes, Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein. Even into high school, you’re still learning that poetry is traditionally about rhyme and metre. There are rules to follow and there’s some comfort and familiarity in that.

As I read, learn, and develop my craft over time, my definition of poetry gets broader. I find a lot of joy in poets whose work breaks the rules in interesting ways, whether it’s a poem that might be indistinguishable from a very short story or one that is only about sound instead of meaning. I’ve become very interested in the places where poetry blends with other media (like visual art, animation, music), and in experimenting with form and what a poem can look like. In the most recent issue of PRISM International, I found a poem by Charity E. Yoro called “Our Lady of ‘Iolani,” which was written as a crossword puzzle. It was brilliant and beautiful.

As a poet, you study the rules, experiment with them, and then begin to break them in artful ways. Poetry has become a difficult creature for me to define and I think that leaves a lot of room to make incredible art.

Síle Englert : part two

How do you know when a poem is finished?

Whenever I think about this, I’m reminded of a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye: “How Do I Know When a Poem Is Finished?” She talks about a poem as a room in a house, where you have to close the door for awhile and walk away, leaving it alone to settle in and get comfortable with itself. And when you go back to the room, you might move a few things around, rearrange some furniture. That’s what writing poetry feels like, for me. I could keep re-stacking the books and fluffing the pillows indefinitely. I might ask a friend whether the lamp looks better here or there. But at some point, you do get a sense that the room looks pretty good the way it is and you can live in it fairly comfortably.

Síle Englert : part one

Síle Englert is a poet, fiction writer and multidisciplinary artist who dabbles in everything from knitting to tattoo design. She is the author of Threadbare, a chapbook from Baseline Press. Her short fiction won Second place in Freefall Magazine’s 2018 Fiction Contest and has been recognized in shortlists and longlists through Room Magazine and Prism International. Her poetry placed Second in Contemporary Verse 2’s 2-Day Poem Contest and has been featured in journals including: The Fiddlehead, Room Magazine, Contemporary Verse 2, Canthius, The /tƐmz/ Review and The Minola Review.

How did you first engage with poetry?

As a child, I loved Anne of Green Gables. I read the books and watched the movies over and over. My first memory of poetry is listening to Megan Follows as Anne reciting “The Lady of Shalott” while she walked in the woods. Words were Anne’s pleasure, her comfort and often her friends. I was enchanted by the expression in her voice, her reverence for the sounds and later, the way she brought joy to other people when she recited. I wanted to learn how to find beauty and solace in written words, like Anne did. That connection was so meaningful to me that I still go back to those same stories from time to time, as an adult, and they can reawaken those same emotions.