Stephen Payne's new poetry blog

Stephen's Payne's not only an excellent poet but also an excellent critic. And by extension, his new poetry blog promises to be excellent too.

Given his scientific background, a lazy reader might be tempted to describe Payne's approach as forensic and thorough, but that would ignore his honed sensitivity. For instance, the first post on his blog is packed with both emotional and technical insight into Billy Collin's poetry. You can read it by following this link.

Two contrasting views of Alice Oswald's poetry

I'm grateful to Stephen Payne on Facebook for pointing me towards an excellent discussion of the relative merits of Alice Oswald's poetry on the Poetry Foundation website (see here). Stephen's initial link was then accompanied by top-notch debate, but that's now unfortunately being lost in the mists of social media timelines.

There's no doubting Alice Oswald's standing in contemporary U.K. poetry, but it's also clear that her work elicits contrasting responses. As a result, I was especially drawn to the Poetry Foundation's "Curious Specimens" format, which juxtaposes two differing perspectives on her verse as explained in the introduction to the discussion:

"Editors’ note: “Curious Specimens” is the second of a series of exchanges in which we are bringing poets together to discuss new books. The format is as follows: each poet chooses a book he or she can wholeheartedly support and writes an eight-hundred-word review of it; the exchanges follow the completed reviews."

Moreover, the two critics in question - Cate Marvin and Joshua Mehigan - tackle Oswald's verse from an American viewpoint, which is extremely interesting, as they thus approach her poetry with very different baggage from that of U.K.-based reviewers.

My personal opinion tends to coincide with Joshua Mehigan's take on Alice Oswald's poetry. That might well in part be due to the fact that I have long admired his verse and aesthetic. Nevertheless, Marvin's stance is also thought-provoking. Perhaps the best consequence is that their discussion has taken me back to Oswalds work once more...

Human and humane, Stephen Payne's Pattern beyond chance

There are a several poets who use science as a tool, who drop jargon or data into their verse as if lending it substance, who spiral away from their subjects in technical reverie,  but there are very few who are capable of harnessing science in their poetry like Stephen Payne in Pattern beyond chance (HappenStance Press, 2015).

Payne is a scientist with a keen interest in human behaviour and thought-processes. In his verse, human thus become humane. One such example occurs in the final lines of “Journey Home”:

“In company, the conversation changes pace.

Alone, the mind gives itself away,

clicking into calm, or else unease”.

There’s a deeply analytical approach at work in this poem. Observations pick up on mechanical changes (as in speed of dialogue) or employ verbs with technical connotations such as “click”, all within an underlying context of feelings like “calm” or “unease”. In other words, Payne is ensuring that science is at the service of deeply humane poetry.

The best poems in Pattern beyond chance focus on honed and heightened instants and incidents. These might be specific to Payne, but his deft touch engages us, provoking our own memories. Our childhood Christmas presents, our maths teachers at school, our choice of a PIN and our afore-mentioned routine journey home are all invoked in the process of inclusion.

And then we encounter Payne’s terrific “Given Name”, which portrays our name: our parents’ choice of it, their use of it, the ramifications it has throughout our life, the meaning we load onto it, as in the poem’s closing lines:

“…and hearing in it the voice of the young woman

who called me from my sleep those school-day mornings.”

Thanks to Stephen Payne’s poems in Pattern beyond chance, the reader is renewed and refreshed. In the midst of the grey days, weeks and months of winter, I can think of few greater compliments.

David Foster-Morgan's poetry blog

Rogue Strands is always on the look-out for interesting poetry blogs, so David Foster-Morgan's new venture most definitely caught the eye. Foster-Morgan is a fine poet with a striking first collection, titled Masculine Happiness, recently out from Seren, while his blog features well written reviews and ruminations. There are already several thought-provoking posts to explore, but perhaps my personal favourite so far is his piece on Stephen Payne's Pattern beyond chance (see here). I very much look forward to following developments over the coming months.

Poems in two voices

Last week's Words & Ears event in Bradford on Avon was a lovely evening. I'm very grateful to Dawn Gorman for the invite. Carrie Etter's reading of her own new poems and of work by Linda Lamus was very enjoyable, while I was also delighted to have the chance to give Tasting Notes a full run-out (albeit without the wines themselves).

On this occasion, Stephen Payne was my partner in crime for Tasting Notes. He did the blurbs and I did the monologues. Suffice to say, he was excellent. As a consequence, the two voices began to interact, and I was struck by how such poems come alive at readings perhaps more than on the page. Texture and variety are enhanced via aural and oral contrast and comparison. Implicit dialogue becomes explicit.

Reading with Carrie Etter at Words & Ears in Bradford on Avon

On Thursday 28th January, I'll be reading as guest poet alongside Carrie Etter at Words and Ears. The venue is the Swan Hotel in Bradford on Avon. Words & Ears is a highly successful, monthly event, and I'm very grateful to the organiser, Dawn Gorman, for the invitation. If you're in the area, I do hope you'll come along: open-mic slots are available, while the entry fee is only three pounds.

Carrie will be reading from her friend and student Linda Lamus' book, A Crater the Size of Calcutta, which was published posthumously by Mulfran Press, while I'll be reading from both Inventing Truth and Tasting Notes, Stephen Payne having very kindly agreed to help me out with the second voice in the latter pamphlet. Of course, both chapbooks are officially sold, but I'll be bringing along a few of my last-remaining copies for sale on the night.

More details can be found on this poster for the event:

What makes for a great poetry magazine?

This is the question I was pondering while reading the latest issue of New Walk (Nº8) last night.

First off, there's the role of the editor (Rory Waterman, Nick Everett and Libby Peake in this case). A decent analogy is with a commercial agent. Mediocre ones just offer loads of decent products to the buyer/reader, hoping that one or two might hit the mark. Good ones, meanwhile, help the buyer/reader to focus by following clear personal criteria and making an excellent, subjective pre-selection. This filtering doesn't mean that choice or taste are limited, rather that surprises are positive.

Secondly, I love encountering the combination of fresh work by poets I recognise alongside verse from names I've never seen before. Again, those commercial agents/editors are enabling the buyer/reader to make discoveries. Poetry magazines should feel sparklingly new, an exciting snapshot of the moment, never a two-year-old backlog.

In New Walk 8 there were pieces from Dan Wyke and Fiona Moore. I've previously enjoyed books by both these poets, so it was intriguing to get a hint of where they are heading at the moment.

At the same time, a new name caught my eye, just like Hannah Lowe's verse in The Rialto a few years ago or Stephen Payne's work in an early issue of New Walk. On this occasion, I loved James Davey's two poems. They were packed with textured yet restrained language that was cleverly yoked to its content and narrative drive. I'll be looking out for more of his writing from now on. Now that's what makes for a great poetry magazine!

Review: The Probabilities of Balance, by Stephen Payne

I first came across Stephen Payne's work in Issue One of New Walk. I remember encountering a lot of excellent poetry in the magazine, much of it by well-known names, but Payne's poem, titled Journey Home, stood out for me. It enabled the reader to grasp a new truth that seemed obvious once it had been revealed, and that is a quality that I very much admire in poetry.

I was consequently keen to read Payne's Smiths Knoll pamphlet, The Probabilities of Balance, and it didn't disappoint. His background in science (with a job as Professor of Human-Centric Systems at the University of Bath) plays an interesting role in the book, informing his work, but more of a counterpoint to experience than as an invasive presence. By this, I mean that Payne seems at his best when juxtaposing dispassionate observation with the vulnerability of feeling, as in Dyslexia:

A hard thing to explain to an eight-year-old.
How to lift from everything we know
a clutch of truths by which he'll be consoled.
I keep to what it doesn't mean, name
the famous cases. Hard to answer no
when he asks quietly, Are you the same?

Throughout the poem there's an intriguing interplay between an analytical, scientific perspective and implicit doubts over just how "truths" and "explanations" can be defined when applied to the often inexplicable and unscientific nature of human experience and interaction. All this effect is especially heightened by the presence of a child's viewpoint.

Payne's verse may be rooted in the everyday, but it's constantly looking beyond, playing off what can be calculated and what can't, as in Infant Weight:

...I paused, let the feel of your infant weight
fill my mind, so as to take the measure,
knowing the moment held in that one thought
I'd carry with me everywhere thereafter.

The poet is again inviting comparisons between what can be exactly measured in terms of pounds and ounces (the infant's physical weight) and what cannot (the significance of the moment).

Stephen Payne's The Probabilities of Balance is a throught-provoking read. As explained above, I feel he has an idiosyncratic, subtle and eye-opening way of exploring the role of science in our lives. Never hectoring, his technique develops poems gradually.They reveal themselves to the reader bit by bit, rewarding repeated readings more than the grabbing of individual quotes. I very much look forward to seeing more of his work in the future.