A poem by Isabel Palmer, teacher and writer, followed by her reflections on the writing process
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Nightlife
For the 39 killed and 70 wounded in the attack on the Reina Nightclub, Istanbul on 1st January 2017
My name is Red,
a living fresco
in rolling slow-motion, stippled
with glass, dust,
first-footing bullets.
I am Black, the piebald
street dog, whistled
out of human range, the tuxedo
fast cornering, crossing the line
of chequered pillars just in time.
I am White, the chalky outline
of a girl, someone’s coat slipped
around her shoulders,
the music’s lighthouse arc,
bass notes floundering,
cruise-ship Reina wrecked.
My name is Brown,
long-legged, barefoot,
the hare crouched
in a fallow made from coats,
cushions, cottons.
I am Blue, the young man
with Leonardo muscles, dissected
at the shoulder, limbs outspread, bent
backwards on the bar, shining
my chest to the sky and the stiletto
that sinks in a wound.
My name is Silver,
bullet-holes in glass, spiralled spider silk,
the peacock’s tail of knives,
spoons, twisting windlasses,
tourniquets of ties, belts, tinsel.
I am Moon, heron-eyed,
thrown overboard,
cold-blooded Bosphorus
nudging hatchlings
over the year’s edge.
Isabel Palmer
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Isabel's reflections on 'Nightlife' - and on the writing and teaching process.
I am a poet, a teacher and an editor, sometimes all three at once but, more often, the pressing demands of one role squeezes out the other two. However, whichever role is uppermost at a given time, the underlying principle of everything I do with poetry is the same. I believe that poetry can capture the complexity of what is happening in our world in ways that are more subtle than journalism, social media or political debate in its current form.
Having published poetry about my son’s tour of Afghanistan in 2014 and 2016, I have moved on but not very far. My material now comes from current news stories, particularly those involving atrocities in war, terrorism and the loss of gentler, more tolerant times. Several of my recent poems, like the one above about the shootings in the Reina nightclub, Istanbul on New Year’s Eve, concern terrorist attacks.
I wrote the poem, ‘Nightlife’, not only because of the casual brutality of the attack but also because reports of the attack were quickly suppressed by the Turkish government, a government that has imprisoned more journalists, teachers and writers than any other country in recent times. I have used the poem with older students, adopting an approach inspired initially by Edward de Bono’s Six Thinking Hats. I strongly believe that poems should be read aloud, slowly and preferably by someone else other than the poet. I cannot over-emphasise how mutually rewarding that can be. The poet has the opportunity to hear how the poem sounds outside his or her own head, where the stresses and pauses naturally occur and where any jarring words or repetitions interfere with the resonance of the poem. For the reader, the act of peer reading, unprepared, demands fluency, expressiveness and a commitment to bring out the best in someone else’s poem.
The poem itself developed from a simple writing exercise in which I chose a headline story and wrote down three things from the natural world that related to the story: the dog that ran out of the nightclub as the gunman went in; the hare taking cover in a fallow and the river, simultaneously perilous and life-saving.
When I used it with students, once the reading was complete, the group of four or five students began a discussion, having been given brief prompts for discussing the poem, each one representing a way of looking at it. I called it pit-stop poetry, with each member of the group responsible for feeding back to the group before the final, open discussion of the poem.
The four or five ‘ways of looking’ included (with each student in the group taking two): ordinary things used in unusual ways; the first/last lines and how they relate to each other; the use of nouns and verbs v adjectives and adverbs; images that bring out feelings in the reader; sound effects; the poet’s intention, e.g. to report, bear witness, evoke emotion, protest; the use of unnecessary small words – ‘the, a..’ the effect of line breaks, stanzas, punctuation and so on.
Other ways of looking at the poem have included giving each student in a group responsibility for looking at it from a particular perspective, for example, feminist, historical, thematic, psychoanalytical, environmental, multicultural, objective/rational/philosophical, reader-response, the multicultural approach proving particularly interesting with this poem and older students but the general approach works with different poems and students of different ages, as well as teachers.
Ultimately, I want to get away from the idea of right/wrong answers and promote an openness and generosity in the reading of poetry that encourages students and teachers to participate fully in both reading and writing.
Isabel Palmer, November 2017
Isabel Palmer is the new co-editor of Flarestack Poets. Her first pamphlet, ‘Ground Signs’ (Flarestack Poets 2014) was a Poetry Book Society Choice. Her first full collection ‘Atmospherics’, with a Foreword by former Poet Laureate, Sir Andrew Motion, was published by Bloodaxe Books in a four-poet book, ‘Home Front’ in 2016. She has performed at Literature Festivals and events in Presteigne, Swindon, Sheffield, Leicester and London and has been interviewed by Martha Kearney on Radio 4’s the World at One and on BBC Wiltshire. A former teacher, she has been Poet in Residence at schools in Wiltshire and London.
Nightlife
For the 39 killed and 70 wounded in the attack on the Reina Nightclub, Istanbul on 1st January 2017
My name is Red,
a living fresco
in rolling slow-motion, stippled
with glass, dust,
first-footing bullets.
I am Black, the piebald
street dog, whistled
out of human range, the tuxedo
fast cornering, crossing the line
of chequered pillars just in time.
I am White, the chalky outline
of a girl, someone’s coat slipped
around her shoulders,
the music’s lighthouse arc,
bass notes floundering,
cruise-ship Reina wrecked.
My name is Brown,
long-legged, barefoot,
the hare crouched
in a fallow made from coats,
cushions, cottons.
I am Blue, the young man
with Leonardo muscles, dissected
at the shoulder, limbs outspread, bent
backwards on the bar, shining
my chest to the sky and the stiletto
that sinks in a wound.
My name is Silver,
bullet-holes in glass, spiralled spider silk,
the peacock’s tail of knives,
spoons, twisting windlasses,
tourniquets of ties, belts, tinsel.
I am Moon, heron-eyed,
thrown overboard,
cold-blooded Bosphorus
nudging hatchlings
over the year’s edge.
Isabel Palmer
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Isabel's reflections on 'Nightlife' - and on the writing and teaching process.
I am a poet, a teacher and an editor, sometimes all three at once but, more often, the pressing demands of one role squeezes out the other two. However, whichever role is uppermost at a given time, the underlying principle of everything I do with poetry is the same. I believe that poetry can capture the complexity of what is happening in our world in ways that are more subtle than journalism, social media or political debate in its current form.
Having published poetry about my son’s tour of Afghanistan in 2014 and 2016, I have moved on but not very far. My material now comes from current news stories, particularly those involving atrocities in war, terrorism and the loss of gentler, more tolerant times. Several of my recent poems, like the one above about the shootings in the Reina nightclub, Istanbul on New Year’s Eve, concern terrorist attacks.
I wrote the poem, ‘Nightlife’, not only because of the casual brutality of the attack but also because reports of the attack were quickly suppressed by the Turkish government, a government that has imprisoned more journalists, teachers and writers than any other country in recent times. I have used the poem with older students, adopting an approach inspired initially by Edward de Bono’s Six Thinking Hats. I strongly believe that poems should be read aloud, slowly and preferably by someone else other than the poet. I cannot over-emphasise how mutually rewarding that can be. The poet has the opportunity to hear how the poem sounds outside his or her own head, where the stresses and pauses naturally occur and where any jarring words or repetitions interfere with the resonance of the poem. For the reader, the act of peer reading, unprepared, demands fluency, expressiveness and a commitment to bring out the best in someone else’s poem.
The poem itself developed from a simple writing exercise in which I chose a headline story and wrote down three things from the natural world that related to the story: the dog that ran out of the nightclub as the gunman went in; the hare taking cover in a fallow and the river, simultaneously perilous and life-saving.
When I used it with students, once the reading was complete, the group of four or five students began a discussion, having been given brief prompts for discussing the poem, each one representing a way of looking at it. I called it pit-stop poetry, with each member of the group responsible for feeding back to the group before the final, open discussion of the poem.
The four or five ‘ways of looking’ included (with each student in the group taking two): ordinary things used in unusual ways; the first/last lines and how they relate to each other; the use of nouns and verbs v adjectives and adverbs; images that bring out feelings in the reader; sound effects; the poet’s intention, e.g. to report, bear witness, evoke emotion, protest; the use of unnecessary small words – ‘the, a..’ the effect of line breaks, stanzas, punctuation and so on.
Other ways of looking at the poem have included giving each student in a group responsibility for looking at it from a particular perspective, for example, feminist, historical, thematic, psychoanalytical, environmental, multicultural, objective/rational/philosophical, reader-response, the multicultural approach proving particularly interesting with this poem and older students but the general approach works with different poems and students of different ages, as well as teachers.
Ultimately, I want to get away from the idea of right/wrong answers and promote an openness and generosity in the reading of poetry that encourages students and teachers to participate fully in both reading and writing.
Isabel Palmer, November 2017
Isabel Palmer is the new co-editor of Flarestack Poets. Her first pamphlet, ‘Ground Signs’ (Flarestack Poets 2014) was a Poetry Book Society Choice. Her first full collection ‘Atmospherics’, with a Foreword by former Poet Laureate, Sir Andrew Motion, was published by Bloodaxe Books in a four-poet book, ‘Home Front’ in 2016. She has performed at Literature Festivals and events in Presteigne, Swindon, Sheffield, Leicester and London and has been interviewed by Martha Kearney on Radio 4’s the World at One and on BBC Wiltshire. A former teacher, she has been Poet in Residence at schools in Wiltshire and London.