This week I’m delighted to invite Simon Alderwick to reflect upon a poem from his new collection ways to say we’re not alone.
ways to say we’re not alone (Broken Sleep Books, 2024) as the title suggests, is centred around the theme of estrangement — from people, from the environment, from ourselves, from society. Scavenger is about riding that storm. It’s my take on a phoenix rising from the ashes of an empire. It’s a poem about redemption, about having the courage to take a leap of faith, to embrace our darkest qualities, our animal instincts. Only by turning away from society can we become one with the animal spirit of nature.
I’ve chosen to reflect upon scavenger as this is a poem I really wrestled with. It’s one of the older poems in the collection. It started out as a workshop poem and has undergone numerous changes since I first wrote it in 2020 and it has been rejected by many fine and prestigious lit mags and journals.
I attended a lot of workshops during the pandemic and wrote tons of poems, three of which ended up in this pamphlet (hook line and sinker, scavenger, the day a volcano erupted in my mind).
I don’t think my workshop poems are my best but each of those three poems represents a stage in my journey towards creating ways to say we’re not alone.
I’d previously submitted a pamphlet to Broken Sleep Books and was rejected. I went away and got some very helpful feedback from Jack Warren, a poet I hugely admire. Scavenger was a poem we looked at in detail.
I’ve played with the structure, the line breaks, the tense, the POV. Originally the poem was much longer and more of a narrative. I’ve spent more time on this poem than any other I’ve written, but can’t say it’s any better than others that have been much quicker and easier to write.
I felt if I didn’t include scavenger in the pamphlet the poem would never get published (as I want to focus on newer stuff moving forwards). There’s a defiance and resolve that endears me to this poem every time I see it.
I like to think there’s an off kilter obstinance in the voice, and that the voice is my own, although there’s definitely some Knut Hamsun and JD Sallinger poking through, two writers that had a strong influence on me as I started out on my creative writing journey.
You’ve got to have thick skin to make it as a poet. I’ve stuck by this poem through countless rejections and it feels good to finally see it in print.
Next week read my review of ways to say we’re not alone.
Nigel Kent - Poet and Reviewer 