Thought Provokers

Susan Hawthorne:
why write poetry    

before writing poets were
important not just for their words
but for metre and song
and stories told in poems

poems were like way stations
on a journey through country
the stations of the cross
might be ancient tracks

poems with memorable tales
of histories made by ancestors
were living singing dancing
ways of remembering all

that was necessary to survive
insects and birds their habits
and habitats the season of frogs
and movements of the moon

writing meant that no one took
the task of remembering and
passing down those way stations
and the code of knowledge

'Thought Provokers' is a new, occasional category. Many poems, of course, can give rise to much thought on the part of readers. But for these posts, I choose those which make me question my assumptions – and if they do that for me, they will perhaps do the same for others.

For instance, although we can talk glibly of 'the oral tradition' in poetry – although many of us present our work in the form of 'spoken word', in a supposed return to that tradition – who among us would not write it first? Rappers, maybe? No, they too write down their words.

Susan Hawthorne is an Australian poet (like me) and this poem reminds me of our indigenous people's tradition of 'song lines' which guided them on their journeys through their country, which they took in order to look after the land, its plants, and its other living creatures. These songs were not written down, but passed on verbally over the generations. In such geographies, accuracy must be very important.

It was similar with other ancient forms of poetry, in other parts of the world (which she also alludes to). They were stories which recorded the history of a people, told in verse because that was both stirring and mnemonic. They were passed on orally and committed to memory. Histories, perhaps, allow more room for variation, and new details; even so they must be recognisable as the same story held in race memory.

I don't really know what I'm talking about, not at first hand. I'm far from the distant tribal origins of any of my European or Asian ancestors. Poetry is definitely something I write. As it is for you who are reading this. We are, after all, a community of blogging poets. Some of us put our work on YouTube or SoundCloud too, hoping our voices will literally be heard – but primarily we hope our words will be read.

Have we, as Susan suggests, lost something by this long devotion to the written word – for all its convenience and opportunity? Have we lost a deeper connection to life which poetry originally gave us and preserved for us? (Not to mention the innate connection to music and dance.)

You might take issue with this thesis, or be persuaded by it. For myself, I don't know that I could essay any answers to her question at this point – but I do think it's a good question to consider. No, I don't plan to stop writing; it would take a huge social shift to return to those times of oral history etc. But I wonder about how to revive some sense of the importance of those old practices. I wonder how we might now use poetry to connect us to life in a primal way? 

Susan Hawthorne, says her biography at Spinifex Press: 

is the author of six collections of poetry, two chapbooks and a verse novel. Her collection Cow (2011) was shortlisted for the Kenneth Slessor Poetry Award in the 2012 New South Wales Premier’s Literary Awards as well as being a finalist in the 2012 Audre Lorde Lesbian Poetry Award (USA). Earth’s Breath was shortlisted for the 2010 Judith Wright Poetry Prize. She has been the recipient of two international residencies: in 2013 from the Australia Council for the Arts for six months to write Lupa and Lamb, the BR Whiting Library in Rome; and in 2009 a four month residency for Arts Queensland and the Australia Council to Chennai, India to write Cow. Her work has been published in Australia and internationally in anthologies and literary magazines, in the annual Best Australian Poems (three times) and broadcast on Radio National Poetica (twice).

She is the author of a verse novel, Limen (2013) and a novel, The Falling Woman (1992) which was a Top Twenty Title in New Zealand’s Listener Women’s Book Festival and selected as one of the Year’s Best Books in The Australian.

Her non-fiction includes The Spinifex Quiz Book (1993) shortlisted in the Australian Educational Awards and Wild Politics(2002) selected as one of the Year’s Best Books in the Australian Book Review. Her most recent non-fiction book isBibliodiversity: A Manifesto for Independent Publishing (2014).

She is also a publisher and Adjunct Professor in the Writing Program at James Cook University, Townsville.

She and Renate Klein founded Spinifex, an award-winning feminist publishing house, in March 1991, and it's still going very strong. Also she blogs at Susan's Political Blog, where she describes herself as (among other things) 'radical feminist, political theorist, linguist' – and 'aerialist'! Obviously not only thought-provoking, but a lively thinker herself – as well as adventurously engaged with physical living.

We used to know each other years ago, when we both lived in Melbourne. More recently we have reconnected on facebook, and even more so at the blog of poetry and art, 365+1, where I was a guest for a month and Susan is a year-long, daily contributor. She writes beautiful poetry on various themes, from new views of classical goddesses to the joys and trials of living on the land (in the Australian tropics). I urge you to read more at the blog. You'll find her posts (as well as a whole heap of interesting stuff by other people) by scrolling down the right-hand column.

You can find her books at Spinifex Press and at her Amazon page.

Both the poem, © Susan Hawthorne 2016, and the photo are protected by copyright and used with permission. They must not be reproduced by any method without written permission from the copyright owner(s). Enquiries should be directed to Spinifex Press.