We are delighted to be joined by poet Dom Conlon who energetically discusses the science of poetry and its ability to help communicate complex information and questions about the world which surrounds us.  Dom's incredible collection of poetry This Rock, That Rock is published by Troika and features brilliant illustrations by Viviane Schwarz. Chris Riddell describes the collection as 'quite simply out of this world!'

Anyone who likes Star Trek will know that what I’m about to say is true: when it comes to science, art matters.  Whether it’s ‘enjoying’ the Data’s poetry about his cat, Spot, or watching episode after episode where the crew indulge their creative sides on the holodeck—it’s clear to see that art plays a major part in Federation life.  As it ought to.

But it isn’t just that we should all hope for a future in which we are free to enjoy art. It’s that art, and in my case poetry, can help bring about that future.

When I visit a school one of the things I can’t help but talk about is space. I love space. I’m a keen (albeit amateur) astronomer and I have even written a book which is entirely inspired by the Moon.  This Rock, That Rock.

I tell the children that though I’m supposed to talk about poetry, I’m the sort of person they can distract with a few well-placed questions. Accretion disks? The mathematics of extraterrestrial life? Is Earth flat? Did we really go to the Moon (yes)? Bring. It. On.

 My answers, however, almost always return me to poetry because it’s in the sometimes structured, always searching poetic form that I can make myself understood. And more importantly, it’s through poetry that everyone finds a way to express themselves.

Poetry has, as many of you will attest to, the reputation of being difficult. I hear this a lot... but mostly from adults. It’s hard to understand, they say. I don’t know what the poet means, they say (who cares, I reply). I don’t like poetry, they say. All these concerns and yet poetry is the tool we reach for in order to teach young children about life. It’s the form scientists sometimes use when they want to explain the beauty of their ideas. It’s certainly how I approached my part in the book Viviane Schwarz and I made together.

So what’s the science behind this?

To answer that we need to turn to... poetry.

Specifically, a poem called ‘Nothing In That Drawer’ by Ron Padgett.

I won’t print the poem here. Mostly because I don’t have to. By giving you the title I’ve also managed to tell you the entire poem. The title is repeated fourteen times to form the poem. I love using this in schools. It starts the whole ‘what is a poem?’ debate nicely but also (after lots of ‘oh no it isn’t’, ‘oh yes it is’ shouting) allows me to point out that the poem exists in the imagination of the reader. There is no complex language, no imagery you’d need a PhD in classical Greek to access. There Is Nothing In That Poem which excludes anyone from forming an opinion.

That’s because poetry is about the poet expressing themself in their own way. Using their own language. And just as we all find the type of music we like, so too can we find the type of poetry we like. The type which speaks ‘to us’.

And that’s where poetry comes into its own. It enables us to express our truth. Whether about how we feel or what we see, poetry is a tool we can all use. It’s also essential for communicating the future we want.

So here’s how it works: Stop imagining the future. Start imagining the present. Imagine it’s a present in which you speak the truth of your work using the simplest language and the minimum number of words. Imagine it’s a present in which you don’t worry whether you wrap that truth in sentences. Imagine it’s a present where the power of your words is measured in the response of your audience, an audience free to respond in their own words. Their response will be a truth you need to listen to because it will do one of two things: it will shape your poetry or it will shape your truth. Either of these will change the future.

This is what happens in the schools I visit. Sometimes that truth is personal, about how we want to live or how we feel. Sometimes it’s about understanding how the universe works. The children, once in the free and non-judgmental world of poetry, respond in beautiful and powerful ways. They can use poetry to touch the heart of a scientific principle, sometimes in surprising ways. It’s guided by two famous quotes by Einstein:

“Imagination is more important than knowledge.”

“If you can’t explain it to a six-year-old, you don’t understand it yourself.”

The six-year-olds I’ve met understand poetry more instinctively than many adults. I am constantly learning from them.

On National Poetry Day, it is exciting to welcome Jay Hulme to talk about 'Clouds Cannot Cover Us' an astonishingly direct and powerful collection.  Here Jay discusses his collection and helping to fill the gap that exists for Young Adult poetry.

I often say that if I didn’t already love poetry by the time we studied it in secondary school, I’d have hated poetry. The work we studied didn’t reflect our lives or experiences, and the idea that form stood above all else was frustrating to say the least. All of this was exacerbated by the fact that there seems to be a gap in the poetry world; there’s lots of poetry for children, there’s lots of poetry for adults, but there seems to be so little YA poetry to bridge that gap and lead readers further on their literary journey. I was so excited when Troika suggested that I could help fill it.

The first thing to think about, when you’re writing a poetry collection, is what you want it to say. In many ways, a collection of poetry is one big poem, and poems (like poets) always have something to say. In writing this collection I thought about what I cared about as a teenager, and what I care about now. I thought about what it is I wanted to say. I was even persuaded (somehow) to dig up some of my old poems, ones I wrote as a teenager in high school and, after giving them a bit of an edit, include one or two of them in the collection.

It turns out that what I wanted to say was what I wanted to hear as a teenager - the truth. No “protecting” young people from the issues, no minimising their problems or experiences. No lies. What I wanted to say, what I hope this collection says, is: “The world is terrible. I get it. I see it. I know. But I promise you, there’s still good out there.”

This book doesn’t shy away from “issues” it tackles, among other things, domestic violence, general violence, homelessness, class divides, family strife, transphobia, islamophobia, anti-semitism, death, refugees, white supremacy, disability, poverty, and more. It is the world as it is, and will hopefully enable young people to see their lives reflected back at them in a way that is both helpful and affirming.

Knowing the industry, I worried that this would be too much for a publisher, but Troika had asked me, specifically, for a poetry book for teenagers. They’d seen me perform. They’d read my work. They had actually met me (big mistake). They knew what they were getting into, or at least, I hoped they did. I sent off the manuscript - it felt like a game of chicken, where I was waiting for one of us to blink. I made lists in my head - which poems I’d be happy to get rid of, which topics might be ‘too much’, and which topics were too personal, or too important, to compromise on.

They didn’t blink.

We had a meeting, to discuss the order of the poems, the format of the book, how to make it familiar and appealing to as wide a range of readers as possible. They acknowledged the personal nature of many of the poems, and asked if I could make it into a narrative, if it could follow my life in some way. Then they did the unexpected, and instead of asking me to cut poems out, they asked for even more. I went away. I dug through my notebooks. I pinned poem titles on a giant corkboard and tried to see if they could fit in a semi-autobiographical narrative. The day I found an old poem about my own birth felt like a sign - I had an opening. But where next?

Being trans means that my life does feel almost like it comes in two halves. I have lived in this world as two people: The person I was before; angry, confused, violent, trying to find out what was wrong, trying to find my place in a world that didn’t want me.  And the person I am now; proud, confident, at peace with myself, trying to forge a future to be proud of. With that in mind, I divided the book into two parts. The first half is filled with problems, anger, and confusion, and the poems in turn are often filled with industrial and urban imagery, dark, and claustrophobic. The second half is filled with hope, change, and growth - the poems here are often filled with natural imagery, they are lighter, softer, quieter - kinder.

My hope is that as well as bridging the gap in poetry, into which so many young people fall, this book will also help people. Poetry has a power far greater than any other form of literature, it allows people to see, and feel seen. The intrinsic unknowability of a poem, the way it allows people to take from it what they most need in that moment, is something so often overlooked in the search for the “real” or “correct” interpretation, but it is unbelievably important; especially for a YA audience, who are so often searching for… something.

Hopefully this collection will act as a lifeline, and a mirror, and a friendly voice. Hopefully it will offer young people the affirmation and hope they so often need. Hopefully it brings a bit of good into the world. Hopefully it helps people.