Saturday, April 14, 2007

Poet runs for her life...!

On May 20th 2007, I will be taking part in the Race for Life at the Westmorland Showground, in aid of Cancer Research.

Like many women across the UK, I have decided to take part in the Race for Life in aid of Cancer Research into cancers affecting women. Over the last 10 years, myself and other women I know have lost too many relatives, friends and creative colleagues to breast cancer and other cancers, as well as seen others struggle and win their battles. All these women have shown great courage and spirit and creative fire in their journeys and it is both an inspiration and a great loss for the world at large to witness such strength and beauty.

Because of this, my sister Sal and I have put our names down to run the race on May 20th in the Lakes. 5km may not seem much to others, but to me it is a LONG WAY!

So - if you can support us on our Wild Women Howl for Life pledge to this race, please do!

Help us to help them make a difference, and raise awareness too of the gross unnecessary loss of life to cancers that are detectable, treatable and curable, if only the research, treatments and a more holistic way of healing were supported by the government and the hugely wealthy industries behind our 'health system'...

Thank you so much for your support - I will keep you updated!

Monday, March 12, 2007

The Small Space of Miracles

Poetry calls us to explore the physical property of words. So – we know we ‘hear’ a poem – either silently in reading, or in having it read to us, but how do we see a poem? How do we feel it, or taste it? How do we, as poets, make the poem a physical experience? What is the relationship between poetry and dance, or music, or film, or visual art? What is its relationship to the physical space it exists in? What is its relationship to the landscape it grows from, and lives in?

The poet, in taking this journey, attempts to capture something of what it is to exist, holds it up so that we, the reader, can understand ourselves, and them, a little better. In many ways, the poem attempts to hold what we cannot hold – the transient miracle of life. Our lives.

The exploration and the fun is in finding ways of creating poems that move beyond the A+B+C building blocks of functional language and begin to inhabit this ‘small space of miracles’.

It is important to delve deeper than the construction of the word-poem and consider in our composition the sound and breath held in a word, the rhythms, the music, the beat, the dance, the movement, the shape. It is about loosening the connection between word and meaning, allowing the air back in. Allowing the breath back in.

The poem, in its essence, communicates something of the experience of its composer. It is the unique expression of that individual, or the shared song of a community. It captures not the mighty (though it can) but celebrates the ordinary miracle. Joseph Brodsky, a poet and activist, said that “poetry is essentially the soul’s search for its release in language”.

In a world where language is increasingly about control, power, access, function and manipulation, poetry

“encourages us to revisit our language, to experience it anew, to come to understand it as a means of communication, deep connection and understanding between ourselves and others, and between the different aspects of ourselves”


(Staying Alive, pg 24 Astley, N).


This is the value of poetry. This is why I choose to share my poetry with others, because in my own life, it has enabled me to live through challenges, learn through experience, understand myself, the world, and others better and, when I had no voice, to communicate to others the existence of my unique being in this wide, wide world; my unique gift.

And every person has a gift to offer the world. Poetry, like all the creative arts, helps us to listen to our hearts, to find that gift and to share it. And that is the right of every human being, and I hope that in some ways, my presence within Beaumont contributes to that exploration.

I would like to finish today with a line from the poet, Denise Levertov, that inspired me, taken from her poem Variations of a Theme by Rilke;

“...what I heard was my whole self
saying and singing what I know: I can.”

Thursday, March 8, 2007

Only in silence the word... (Ursula K. LeGuin)


What is poetry? and what is it for?


At its most basic, poetry is made up of units of language, ordered in a certain way. We all use language, in one form or another, every day. It is a functional currency. In its most common form, it is a means we have adapted to communicate our basic physical needs – from indicating we want to use the toilet, to sending an email to a colleague. Language becomes exhausted, overused. We forget to listen closely to the sounds of its composition, its versatility and creativeness. Poetry then, refreshes our senses to language and encourages us to play with the different ways it can be used.

Poetry is a musical composition. We listen to music to uplift our spirits, to aid reflection, to remind ourselves of a time gone by, to release energy or an emotion…yet we tend to overlook poetry, even though a poem does the same thing. The process of composing a poem involves the same consideration as composing a piece of music. The poet searches for the right word, the best sound, the most evocative rhythm to express the meaning held within the poem. We experience a poem twofold – receiving simultaneously the meaning of the words and the construction of the language. If the poet has done it well, we will not be aware of the construction, but instead receive it as part of the meaning – and in this way, a poem becomes something that is understood both intellectually, and physically.

In this world, the word is both functional and expressive. Poetry digs deeper in order to discover the base note held in language. At its base line, language is made from sound and silence, and poetry becomes a composition of breath, sound and silence. Silence is a prerequisite for the voice, a space for it to invest, a resonance chamber in which to reverberate. In silence resounds voice, in voice silence is present. Poetry consists in turning the invisible—silence or a voice—into perception and presence.

How then, does language and silence define our world, and us within it? How does the act of naming define our world? How do words take shape? What ‘shape’ are these words? What ‘shape’ is silence?

In my poem, Poem 16, also from Fragile Bodies, I attempt to capture a life changing moment, the moment when the mother is told her pregnancy has failed. Through the use of silence, and space on the page, as well as the sound and meaning of words, I have tried to communicate to the reader the sense of loss and the silence of that moment:


Poem 16

They say:
the structure is growing somewhere else.

They tell me:
the womb is empty.

I look, straining to see
the pinprick heart
that will tell me
you have stayed.

There is nothing;

only space

and water

and longing.

The poem, in this way, becomes a physical, sensory experience, moving language from the purely functional, into the experiential, the expressive. Here there is interplay between functional language, and expressive language.

Dragonflies from the sun... (James Broughton)

'...Poets are not gnats in the wind.
They are dragonflies from the sun.
Come, burn your bliss in midair.
You are more needed than you know.
Be arsonists of the phoenix next
and glow!'

(James Broughton)

I thought this would be a good opportunity to share a little about where I have come from and what guides my practice...

I began writing and reading poetry as a small child. The way it spoke entranced me and I knew from an early age that this was the basis of my life. Later, I discovered the power of poetry to save lives, in this case – my own. More than that, I discovered the value and importance of poetry in empowering of the individual voice and in allowing the silent to speak out. The basis for my work has always been the firm belief that poetry is a vital part of our human expression and that, as such, it lives within every human being and is accessible to every human being, irrespective of education, literacy, culture or any other social, physical, mental or psychological condition. More so, it is often a vehicle for those who are under-represented, marginalised or un-heard to speak out. In her poem, This Poem… Elma Mitchell takes a wry look at the radicalism of poetry.

This poem…

This poem is dangerous: it should not be left
Within the reach of children, or even adults
Who might swallow it whole, with possibly
Undesirable side-effects. If you come across
An unattended, unidentified poem
in a public place, do not attempt to tackle it
Yourself. Send it (preferably, in a sealed container)
To the nearest centre for learning, where it will be rendered
Harmless, by experts. Even the simplest poem
May destroy your immunity to human emotions.
All poems must carry a Government warning. Words
Can seriously affect your heart.

Poetry is no fluffy toy; poetry is an explosive bomb, ready to blow apart our prejudices, our misconceptions, our busy-busy brains. Listening to a poem, reading a poem, writing a poem, creating a poem – not only connects us back with parts of ourselves, it connects us to each other, and to what it is to be human. It awakens something in us that the keepers of the status quo would probably rather stayed asleep. That is the power of all creative exploration. It has the potential to turn our lives upside down.

Poem 1

To do this
will change everything.
See? Already the clouds
are rolling backwards.

(from Fragile Bodies, V. Bennett WWP 2004)

Why is it so important to leap in though? Why bother?


Monday, February 5, 2007

The things we fear most in organisations -- fluctuations, disturbances, imbalances -- are the primary sources of creativity (Margaret J. Wheatley)


The Poet’s Obligation


To whoever is not listening to the sea
this Friday morning, to whoever is cooped up
in house, office, factory or woman,
or street or mine or harsh prison cell:
to that person I come, and, without
speaking or looking,
I arrive and open the door of the prison,
and a vibration starts up, vague and insistent,
a great roar of thunder sets in motion
the rumble of the planet and the foam,
the groaning rivers of the ocean rise,
the star vibrates swiftly in its corona,
and the sea beats, dies, and goes on beating.
So, drawn on by my destiny,
I ceaselessly must listen to and keep
the sea’s lamenting in my consciousness
I must feel the crash of the hard water
and gather it up in a perpetual cup
so that, wherever those in prison may be,
wherever they suffer the autumn’s castigation,
I may be present with an errant wave,
I move in and out of windows,
and hearing me, eyes may lift themselves
saying “How can I reach the sea?”
And I shall broadcast, saying nothing,
the starry echoes of the wave,
a breaking up of foam and of quicksand,
a rustling of salt withdrawing,
the grey cry of sea-birds on the coast.
So, through me, freedom and the sea
Will call in answer to the shrouded heart.

Pablo Neruda


I found this poem the other day when looking for reading material to take to a workshop. I love the way the poet here explores the idea of the role of the poet in all our lives. All too often, when I tell people I am a poet, they stare blankly. Recently, I visited my GP and during routine questions about my work and lifestyle, he asked me, a tone of confusion in his voice "...and how exactly do you go about getting qualified to work as a poet?" I replied that I had been to university and studied poetry to postgraduate level, and gradually gained work experience and undertook further specialist training in using poetry within educational, community and therapeutic environments, and that during this time, I had published my work in magazines, and in collections.

But I knew that this did not really answer the question. Certainly, my experience and training helps me to respond fully to the individuals and groups I work with. Over the years, I have trained as a person-centered counselor and in disability arts training, for example. I use this training and experience regularly in my work, to enable me to facilitate a good working environment and to maintain supportive boundaries. I also know that over time, and through reading and learning and being mentored by many wonderful poets, I have come to know my voice better, and gained skill in crafting the shape and sounds of poems.

All this though does not account for the greatest training of all: that of remaining open to life, to emotions, to sensation and experience, and to maintaining a commitment to that way of living. My days are spent largely in a combination of observation, interpretation and reflection, both on my outer world and on the interior existence. In poetry, I attempt to distill this moment by moment experience, try to capture something of the nature of life as seen through my days. Often the poems seem to lead me, and not the other way around. In order to be open to that guide, I try to keep my life as free from external rules as possible, so that I might follow the poems wherever they lead. At the moment, they have taken me to spend time with the students and staff at Beaumont College. Which is interesting in itself, because as a residential and day college, Beaumont is controlled by numerous institutional rules. Yet within it, the focus is on creative expression, which is rooted in freedom from rules. This paradox is something that I am sure will come up time and time again during this residency, asking for investigation.

For now, I want to share with you Neruda's poem, because I love the sense of value it places on the poet's obligation to 'move in and out of windows', and the urgency I feel when reading it to keep that freedom and the crash of the open sea within my own life, and to share that through the work I do. It is both a glorious celebration of the poet and also a 'call to arms'. This is not mere fancy. This is an obligation - because the world needs those who throw open the windows.


Poetry is what gets lost in translation (Robert Frost)

Welcome to The Poet's Place.

My name is Victoria Bennett. Most people call me Vik. I am a poet on a journey.

I have set up this blog to keep an online journal of my Residency at Beaumont College, Lancaster, UK. Over the next 7 months, I will be exploring the nature and creation of poetry with staff and students, as well as reflecting on my own creative practice and role.

First, a little bit about the placement. Beaumont College is run by the charity, Scope, and is a college for the creative arts. It was founded in 1977 in Lancaster and offers both residential and day programmes to students aged between 18 and 25 with a broad range of physical and
learning disabilities. The college offers an extended curriculum with a strong emphasis on creative arts, communication and self expression, with the overall aim being to empower students to take responsibility for their own lives.

In the beginning, the college focused more on the traditional routes towards independent living, but as the college developed, so did the awareness of the role of the creative arts in encouraging and empowering this independence. Recently, the college curriculum expanded to provide courses in 6 creative art subjects, offering a 3 year timetable similar in structure to a mainstream combined creative arts course, as well as other skills and personal development programmes. Students at Beaumont can study, for example, units in film, dance, music, fine art, environmental art, performance and creative writing. It is encouraged that students experiment with various creative experiences throughout the 3 years.

I first heard about Beaumont at a Spoken Word conference in Kendal, Cumbria, where I met 2 members of staff from the college. As they spoke about their interest in finding ways of making poetry accessible to students with a range of capacities in language, I was interested to
find out more. A few weeks later, the college contacted me and invited me to come in to meet with the staff and discuss my approaches and their wishes for a Poetry Residency. This was a very interesting and lively meeting, with the exchange of many ideas and much inspiration. My
immediate impression was that Beaumont was a vibrant, creative space and that the staff were dedicated to their commitment to empower through creativity - a belief very close to my own heart.

After some ironing out of details, I was invited to take a residency at Beaumont, taking place from December 2006 until July 2007. The end of the residency coincides with a 3 week Arts & Film Festival being held by the college, and taking place in venues around Lancaster city. It is
hoped that by that time, there will be poetry from students and staff to share that has been developed during this time.

Though the college has a rolling programme of resident artists, this is to be the first time they have invited a poet in. This is interesting and leads me to ask the obvious question:

why?

In my experience, poetry is often overlooked or rejected as a means to empowerment of voice, largely because people feel it is inaccessible, not expressive enough, too 'difficult'. Yet, it is a hugely powerful vehicle for the development of individual voice and the articulation of personal and cultural experience. This has been proved in many situations, yet people are still wary of it.

Add this to the fact that poetry is an art form with its root in language, and we start to see the challenge.

So, we begin with the six key questions I have identified:

1. is poetry accessible as an expressive art form for those with limited or no language capacity?


2. does poetry rely on language as we know it, or are there other ways of accessing and creating poetry that expand our understanding of what poetry, language and communication are?


3. what, if any, is the value of poetry within an environment such as Beaumont College - for students and for staff and for the community as a whole?


4. what is poetry?


5. what is the value of poetry in our lives (if indeed it has any?)


6. what role does the poet play within a community like Beaumont (as a visiting artist) and in the wider community?


Over the next 7 months, I will be exploring these questions through my work and also with those I will be working with - staff and students. I hope to find some answers. No doubt I will discover more questions and unfold into new understandings and embrace unforeseen challenges. I really don't know how this will take shape, but that is the beauty of a residency - we can all discover together.

My expertise lets me know that poetry empowers those who access it within themselves and share it with others. My experience tells me that I have the skills and knowledge to
facilitate creative exploration in poetry and also creative personal development. My heart and everything about what I understand under my skin reassures me that poetry is within us all, the heartbeat of the world, just as music and mark making and storytelling, and that
creativity is part of being human, even if our understanding of what it IS is somewhat affected by our cultural and social understanding.

Beyond that, I don't know. It is an exciting place to be as an artist. I invite you to join me in as we explore the questions, and if you have anything to bring to the journey, perhaps your own experiences or discoveries, please leave a comment at the Poet's Place.


Contact details for Beaumont College/Scope:

Beaumont College, Slyne Road, Lancaster, LA2 6AP.
Switchboard Tel: (01524) 541400

The proprietor of Beaumont College is Scope.
Scope is a registered charity, number 208231. 6 Market Road, London N7 9PW.

Website at http://www.scope.org.uk