Poetry review â SELF-PORTRAIT AS ORNITHOLOGIST:Â Thomas Ovans appreciates Karen Lloydâs gift for describing and understanding the natural world
Self-portrait as Ornithologist
Karen Lloyd
Wayleave Press
ISBN 978-1-9999728-6-8
ÂŁ5
During the early days of restrictions on movement due to the coronavirus pandemic, many of us found new pleasure in the sound of birdsong which no longer had to compete with traffic noise and other sounds of human activity. Those of us who are city dwellers discovered that our unpretentious local parks provided a welcome glimpse of a countryside that we could no longer visit. The poems of Karen Lloyd put eloquently into words some of the gratitude that I have been feeling for such small natural blessings.
The opening poem âRobinâ displays the poetâs descriptive powers: the birdâs song is âa small waterfall of soundâ. But â like the white space in a poem â the silences are important too because they âlet in the sound of the wood breathingâ. In her enjoyment of this encounter with a robin, however, Lloyd does not lose sight of the fact that she is viewing it simply on her own terms and recognizes that there is an uncrossable boundary between the bird and herself. Hence the âsweet wall of songâ may in fact be a defiant âkeep awayâ.
There are many other splendid and evocative turns of phrase throughout the book. The noise of snipe drumming is described as the sound of âhollow dispatchesâ that âtravelled through us as if certainty was suspendedâ. And Lloyd can be equally skilful at pin-sharp portrayal of human artefacts: tracer bullets observed on an army firing range become âneon memorandaâ. Other memorable examples include âpenitent cormorantsâ and a âvagrant gannetâ; an incoming tide with âtwo edges of water meeting / like lovers after absenceâ; and lapwings that are âlooping flags of gossipâ. An entire poem about pond frogs teems with vivid images
Out in the darkness a female frog crams
her shambolic self into the meeting place
of ground and wall. She is a car wreck of a frog,
legs akimbo, like a newbornâs unfixed limbs,
her skin awash with dots and dashes
...
The anti-song of pond frogs is a night-time
flood that travels over the scrub of the island.
Throngs of froggy neurons fire themselves
along rainwater highways...
The frogs are Steve Reich on a three-note bender...
Along with so much celebration of the natural world there is often â as in âRobinâ â a subtext which suggests that all may not be as delightful as it seems. Lloyd makes us aware of darker themes that exist alongside the brighter, more appealing ones. âYouTubeâ expresses regret that many people seem to take reality more seriously if it is mediated/filtered through a lens and digital reconstruction. The poem begins
We will take our devices to the fields,
press play,
watch lapwings tumble
and further verses see us taking our devices to the woods and sea-cliffs. But are these actual settings simply âwaiting while we press rewindâ to return to a time when we simply looked with our eyes? âSelfieâ is a somewhat similar lament about the self-absorption of a young woman in the midst of a spectacular landscape who
... leans back a few degrees, tilts her chin,
offers herself to the God of the phone.
The collectionâs title poem also has dark but more enigmatic undertones. While seeming to record the passing observations of a bird-watcher, it clearly speaks of loss of something more serious and more sorrowful. Children leaving home perhaps? Or maybe old friendships?
There is a very plain and anomalous juxtaposition of nature and a man-made artefact in âThe Piano in the Riverâ (which I take to be based on an actual observation). Lloyd creates the image crisply and economically
They found you in the gorge
below the bridge
strings pebbled shut
now bluebell-hummed
the chip and chisel water
plucks your tongue
In the last few pages of this short collection Lloyd reveals a talent for humour and wordplay. âCleaning up the Neighbourhoodâ deals with various anti-pigeon measures including âslates wiped clean from gigabytes / of accumulated pigeon data.â âThe Moth Problemâ is a lively sketch of a man not very successfully chasing an intrusive moth round the living room while his wife âall thin lips and persecution-complex / is shouting instructions from the corner near the door.â
The book effectively concludes with the last-but-one poem âGenesisâ which is a very broad-brush fantasy about creation and environmental damage and includes an image of God setting out to clean things up with âa bucket, some cloths and a Brillo pad.â This bravura conceit seems to me to overwhelm the delicate poem âWrenâ which is the actual last poem of the book and would surely have been more at home among the earlier pages. This however is my only small complaint about a fine and rich collection.
As with all Wayleave publications, this little book is beautifully presented with warm maroon endpapers and a striking cover image by Mike Barlow.
Thomas Ovans
London Grip Poetry Review – Karen Lloyd
September 4, 2020
Poetry review â SELF-PORTRAIT AS ORNITHOLOGIST:Â Thomas Ovans appreciates Karen Lloydâs gift for describing and understanding the natural world
During the early days of restrictions on movement due to the coronavirus pandemic, many of us found new pleasure in the sound of birdsong which no longer had to compete with traffic noise and other sounds of human activity. Those of us who are city dwellers discovered that our unpretentious local parks provided a welcome glimpse of a countryside that we could no longer visit. The poems of Karen Lloyd put eloquently into words some of the gratitude that I have been feeling for such small natural blessings.
The opening poem âRobinâ displays the poetâs descriptive powers: the birdâs song is âa small waterfall of soundâ. But â like the white space in a poem â the silences are important too because they âlet in the sound of the wood breathingâ. In her enjoyment of this encounter with a robin, however, Lloyd does not lose sight of the fact that she is viewing it simply on her own terms and recognizes that there is an uncrossable boundary between the bird and herself. Hence the âsweet wall of songâ may in fact be a defiant âkeep awayâ.
There are many other splendid and evocative turns of phrase throughout the book. The noise of snipe drumming is described as the sound of âhollow dispatchesâ that âtravelled through us as if certainty was suspendedâ. And Lloyd can be equally skilful at pin-sharp portrayal of human artefacts: tracer bullets observed on an army firing range become âneon memorandaâ. Other memorable examples include âpenitent cormorantsâ and a âvagrant gannetâ; an incoming tide with âtwo edges of water meeting / like lovers after absenceâ; and lapwings that are âlooping flags of gossipâ. An entire poem about pond frogs teems with vivid images
Along with so much celebration of the natural world there is often â as in âRobinâ â a subtext which suggests that all may not be as delightful as it seems. Lloyd makes us aware of darker themes that exist alongside the brighter, more appealing ones. âYouTubeâ expresses regret that many people seem to take reality more seriously if it is mediated/filtered through a lens and digital reconstruction. The poem begins
and further verses see us taking our devices to the woods and sea-cliffs. But are these actual settings simply âwaiting while we press rewindâ to return to a time when we simply looked with our eyes? âSelfieâ is a somewhat similar lament about the self-absorption of a young woman in the midst of a spectacular landscape who
The collectionâs title poem also has dark but more enigmatic undertones. While seeming to record the passing observations of a bird-watcher, it clearly speaks of loss of something more serious and more sorrowful. Children leaving home perhaps? Or maybe old friendships?
There is a very plain and anomalous juxtaposition of nature and a man-made artefact in âThe Piano in the Riverâ (which I take to be based on an actual observation). Lloyd creates the image crisply and economically
In the last few pages of this short collection Lloyd reveals a talent for humour and wordplay. âCleaning up the Neighbourhoodâ deals with various anti-pigeon measures including âslates wiped clean from gigabytes / of accumulated pigeon data.â âThe Moth Problemâ is a lively sketch of a man not very successfully chasing an intrusive moth round the living room while his wife âall thin lips and persecution-complex / is shouting instructions from the corner near the door.â
The book effectively concludes with the last-but-one poem âGenesisâ which is a very broad-brush fantasy about creation and environmental damage and includes an image of God setting out to clean things up with âa bucket, some cloths and a Brillo pad.â This bravura conceit seems to me to overwhelm the delicate poem âWrenâ which is the actual last poem of the book and would surely have been more at home among the earlier pages. This however is my only small complaint about a fine and rich collection.
As with all Wayleave publications, this little book is beautifully presented with warm maroon endpapers and a striking cover image by Mike Barlow.
Thomas Ovans