If We Knew How to We Would

“How many thoughts can you work into a single poem?” asks the back cover of If We Knew How to We Would. On starting to read the poetry therein, I found myself wondering if I could bear having as many thoughts as Emma Barnes!

The graphic quality of 72 pages of writing is what strikes you first. The opening poem Lineage has as its first statement: “The man with the sharp knife cuts the fat to tissue paper thinness and two people fold it into their mouths: a sacrament, like frills, like folds.” It goes on to elaborate on the theme set by the poem’s title: an intriguing combination of butchers, fate, and pigs.   

I especially like In your hands as it explores, with reference to the title’s ambiguity, that most controversial of subjects: love. “Your hand on my throat…” – and I’ll leave the rest to your imagination – recalls the title, but the reader is quickly relieved at the poet’s conclusion: “We’re all that’s happening now”: perhaps a philosophical remark, but at least we know they’re still alive!

The eponymously titled middle section of the collection comes with a warning to readers who may be wary of certain themes. On the day I found out you killed yourself is the most powerful example. Constantly repeating the words “believe” and “belief” as well as the poet’s violent denial of a reality effectively reminds us of our reaction to what we don’t want to accept.

Other poems in the same section echo similarly with grief and sorrow, expressed in mainly short sentences and powerful words, giving a staccato effect, very much the principal trademark of Barnes’ style.

One of the final poems I am is perhaps the best answer to the quoted question I started with. I just wish Emma an occasional rest from their thoughts and that they may take heart from the origami butterfly they refer to!