Beautiful interweaving of nature and human concerns
The word ‘beautiful’ was repeated again and again in voters’ comments as this subtle, understated poem revealed the tragic death of a sister that lay at the heart of it, and it is for this reason and more that Robin Houghton’s ‘I’m looking through a lattice of magnolia’ is the IS&T Pick of the Month for June 2024.
Robin is the author of four poetry pamphlets including Why? And Other Questions (Live Canon, 2020). She co-hosts the podcast Planet Poetry. Her first full collection, ‘The Mayday Diaries’, is forthcoming from Pindrop Press in 2024. robinhoughtonpoetry.co.uk
She has asked that her £20 prize be donated to the White Lodge Centre, in memory of Rachel and Julia Andrew.
I’m looking through a lattice of magnolia
not yet ready to blow open its thousand furring buds—
every year the same urgency—same innocence—
on an anniversary serious enough for champagne
and a room with mullioned windows—the view outside
is a frosted field—scattered sheep as stones—a sketch
of lawn—bare border stuck with seed pods—skeletons
of trees clawing the orange sky—we reinvent a dream—
let’s come back in the summer/next year/every year—
same artlessness, same ignorance—then in the restaurant
torched with beauty and extravagance—another couple
their bodies arranged in grey-faced quiet—nearly
prompt me to comment—but in a few weeks’ time
when my sister’s body is ash—we’ll have gone for good
and the blossom will be out—you smile as if you know—
Voters comments included:
It’s a subtle and mature poem of delight and thoughtful construction. Not flashy. Not a copied style. Heartfelt content.
The reader is taken through a series of cinematic images to the last two lines where, sonnet like, there’s a twist that reveals the true meaning behind the poem.
Understatedly sadness and beauty. So accomplished.
The images are done beautifully. The poem builds and builds to a tragic culmination.
It paints wonderfully colourful pictures with a few well-chosen words.
the beauty of the natural descriptions, the breathy urgency of tone, the poignancy of the yet-to-flow magnolia, the sense of wonder juxtaposed with loss
I like its understated sensitivity and poignancy, the way it leaves the reader space for their own grief.
the contrast of the anniversary and the sister’s death, and the evocative imagery
An unsentimental, beautifully controlled piece around the death of a sister. Very moving.
A poignant interplay of celebrating life and loss and the wonder of nature.
I am new to the medium of poetry but absolutely love the way that this poem brings knowledge which have lain dormant for years to the very surface of our being
There is a lot in it, a lot to relax into and then start seeing contrasts and connections, the ephemeral and enduring. A lattice indeed.
The sudden reveal re the death of a sister, though it was well signposted with the choice of words used earlier. Skilful.
Touching details being the reader close, into an intimate experience which we all know, have known or will know, rendering the conclusion convincing. And yet, such tenderness, such beauty. Also the most universal of the six poems.
The title is intriguing, takes us straight into the scene and leads us seamlessly into what is a poem of grief and beyond.
The control of its breathlessness
strangely precise, tightly written, carefully formed, fantastic shocking conclusion
The poignancy of the bereaved comes as a surprise and jolt. It’s a kind of terrible beauty.
It’s the poem that has the most ‘for ever’ feel about it, one I could read and re-read, and gain more each time. I like its honesty, its lyricism, and its sadness.
Format and images working beautifully together till the unexpected ending and a great last line too!
This poem holds so much story, so much between its lines. Hope, grief, belief in nature, in the natural order of things returning to the dust and blossoming eventually. Beautiful.
***
THE REST OF THE JUNE 2024 PICK OF THE MONTH SHORTLIST
Love Poem to June
After Paul Monette
if every window filled with light it would refract
ten thousand rainbows at least twelve would hit
you and if i say you are beautiful in this light
you would say this is your light the only one
you want to be seen in blue and purple pink
strawberry moon finds you dreaming i want to
know what you dream of on the lonely nights
when there are no rainbows look here are the
violets here are the green carnations here’s dorothy
coming home from work yellow heels red eye
shadow close enough to kiss but you’ve shown me
i can have more than snippets of lightning you’ve
shown me proof i exist even when i look in the mirror
and see only myself in past tense i never stop looking for
you come come june you know what you do to me
when you leave i never doubt myself until you
go home has so many doors closed to me but you
build me a new room with no lock you look so beautiful
in certain lights if i call you beautiful i have to
call myself beautiful i take you home june and
hold your beating body to mine until we are both
solid and sure we will still be here tomorrow
Freya Cook (she/her) is currently studying English Literature at Durham University. She was commended as a top 100 poet in Foyles Young Poetry competition, was commended in the Young Poets’ Keats Challenge, and has been published in The Gentian, Celestite and Granny’s Tea Poetry Magazine. Find her on Twitter at @fjcookie1.
*
On nights I am
a girl again
I amunemployable as
woman don’t do the
work beg at corner
of ends on leg
too shortfor the cripwalk
into sensible trouserstailor cigar to
this halfman mouthbring it to
my halfmoon mouthlycanthrope into
womanbeastgiant in swagger
neckdeep neurosesaround
stiff collarfail the interview
I’m hideous mama
On nights I ama girl again
phone autocorrectsbutch to
bitchat spine
body autocorrectsme back
to bottomcupboard it’s been
years since you’vemade a man of
me it’s been yearssince I touched
the stufftestosterone
prescriptionundulate
back togirl point
and laughat mirror
mirror asecond set of fingers
pointing andlaughing
at memarch tightlipped
back roundthe backdoor
to thebackground
from one genderto the bottom rung
of the ladder
On nights I ama girl again
despite my protestshere I am
dyke in thislifetime
female eunuchsmall fire
on pavementlearn the
language wellcycle high
awkwardbackpat goodbye
gruff fadeover bathtub
press gently nowthe skin is softer
though I won’tadmit it.
burn incense dry in place
of empire.
Noah Jacob is an interdisciplinary poet, spoken word performer, and critic, with an academic background in biological sciences. Her writing often explores identity, queerness, Islam and Arabic culture, interrogating boundaries between human and ‘unhuman’, and the poetry within biology, automaton and nature.
She is an alum of Roundhouse Resident Artist Programme, Roundhouse Poetry Collective, Barbican Young Poets, Apples and Snakes ‘The Writing Room’ and T.S. Eliot Prize Young Critics and was an editor for Zindabad Zine. Her work has been featured at Love Supreme, National Poetry Library, Shubbak and The Last Word as well as in Ink, Sweat & Tears, orangepeel, Hecate, and Kalopsia mags.
She can be found on Instagram @nohcean.
*
Doctors in difficulty
after Helen Mort
A trainee in difficulty is one whose progress is causing concern or who is not meeting curricular requirements.
This may be due to ill health, life events, difficulties with learning or through less than satisfactory professional conduct.
Health Education England
Difficult doctors don’t care about their patients,
They are filling up hospitals and GP practices with their difficult bodies.
They are often late to work and shuffle into handover
at the back with an unbrushed hair and without makeup, not even
making an effort. Difficult doctors can often be spotted because they
may bring items from their difficult homes such as fuzzy felt on clothing
or a peppa pig lunchbox. Some of these difficult doctors can become emotional
at work and seem not to be able to detach and remain professional at all times.
Difficult doctors will often neglect their e portfolios. Other misguided doctors,
who are also difficult may try to assist them to climb over barriers and hurdles
placed in their way instead of allowing natural selection to breed only the fittest.
Recently, many of these difficult doctors have started to make
difficult noises, because apparently they have been experiencing difficulty
with paying for things and they don’t have family money to fall back on.
Sometimes difficult doctors might suggest doing something differently
in the clinical area but this is only because they have not understood
the correct way to do things and that things were better in the old days.
Some of these difficult doctors have made their way into theatres.
It is said in London, you are never more than six feet away from a
difficult doctor. Be on your guard! There could be one at your scrub sink
taking offense at harmless banter about sexuality or race or some other woke thing.
Difficult doctors often have difficult relatives who may become unexpectedly sick,
distracting them at work or they may even become sick themselves,
clearly a sign of their own clinical incompetence.
Difficult doctors are often late.
This is because they spend too much time with their patients and are not able to
extricate themselves from irrelevant conversations. On ward rounds they may take excessive time
educating other difficult staff members. Difficult doctors do not seem to understand
tribalism and may intermingle with other difficult members of the healthcare professions
even talking to them on equal terms. You can spot a difficult doctor because they will
send multiple emails about rota requests several months in advance,
including things like leave for weddings.
Difficult doctors may have difficulties in their personal relationships
this is because they may have made poor choices and have a partner who doesn’t understand
that no one ever got anywhere in medicine by working only their scheduled hours.
Difficult doctors may be continually starting new tasks without
finishing previous audits. They may have problems prioritising. They may write poetry.
Difficult doctors may upset other team members without meaning to
or disappear for inexplicable reasons during ward rounds.
Have you completed your mandatory e learning in supporting difficult doctors?
If so, ensure you submit the certificate at your annual appraisal.
Did you have difficulties answering any of the tick box questions?
Are you afraid you might have difficulties yourself?
Elizabeth Osmond (X=@bethosmond, instagram= @osmond_beth) is a doctor and a poet. Her work has been published in several online and print journals including Ink Sweat & Tears, Atrium, Intima and The Alchemy Spoon. She won prizes in both the 2021 and 2024 Hippocrates competition for poetry and medicine.
Helen Mort’s poem that inspired this can be found on Kim Moore’s blog here
*
You ask me why
I put myself through that,
as if I jumped out of a plane
14,000 feet of fear and longing.
As if I were a camel pacing
two-toed, unhindered into
the eye of the needle.
As if I plucked the thorn
instead of the rose, wrist
of scars no more than a tattoo.
As if I pulled my heart out
of my chest, placed it bloodied
raw on the supermarket shelf,
beside the dead animals,
behind the clear glass.
Watched it being chosen
by a stranger who would eat it,
not love it and turn it gently
in his palm, blood soaking his wrist.
As if I ran naked into the waves,
the voices of my people an echo
whilst I drowned in song.
As if I walked with my glass of Douro
into a tornado, a silk scarf at my neck.
As if I tore open a parcel of wild seeds,
threw them on my mowed lawn then
turned my back to fill the dishwasher.
As if a sunflower can turn to the shade,
or an autumn leaf can stay upon its branch.
I did not put myself through that,
it shone through me like I was
made of stained glass, for stained I am.
And yet you see how light transforms
and often chooses us.
Bobbie Sparrow recently published her debut poetry collection The Weight of Blood with Yaffle press. She is a widely published poet with poems in journals and anthologies. Her work has been placed in several well-known competitions. She lives in rural Galway, loves swimming in lakes and believes curiosity keeps her alive.
*
A Jar of Starfish
You may think it’s because there’s so little room,
but I believe we are holding each other so we don’t forget
the way water holds us.
At first glance, you may be forgiven for thinking us Autumn
leaves – a crisped selection of burgundy and claret.
This is just survival, a showing of our blood.
Each of our fingers are sharper than when we arrived.
Yes, we have become spiky and cunning – one of us
is fashioning a lock-pick from her most northerly point.
Claire Walker’s latest pamphlet publication is Collision (Against the Grain Poetry Press, 2019). Recent magazine publications includeThe Four Faced Liar and Lighthouse, and she was runner-up in the Pre-Raphaelite Society Poetry Prize 2023. Claire is co-editor of Atrium poetry webzine. X: @ClaireWpoetryInstagram: @claire_louise_walker
Note: Written from part of a collection at the Grant Museum of Zoology