Moon on the Tides, Conflict, Jane Weir

1. • What does this mean to you?

2. Poppies
Jane Weir
Jane Weir describes herself as Anglo-Italian,
and grew up in on the outskirts of
Manchester on a council estate. She is a
textile designer, writer and poet who has
lived ‘all over the place’, including in Belfast,
Northern Ireland during the Troubles (in the
1980s). Weir currently lives in Derbyshire
and Manchester, where she writes and runs
her own textile and design business.
Weir’s poem ‘Poppies’ was commissioned by Duffy as part of a
collection of ten contemporary war poems which were published in
the Guardian in 2009, as part of a response to the escalating conflict
in Afghanistan and the Iraq inquiry. Weir describes being surprised
by the ‘overwhelming response’ she had from readers across Europe
to ‘Poppies’. Many of the readers who contacted her were mothers
of soldiers killed in action in recent conflicts. She commented in an
interview that, ‘I wrote the piece from a woman's perspective, which
is quite rare, as most poets who write about war have been men. As
the mother of two teenage boys, I tried to put across how I might
feel if they were fighting in a war zone.’
In ‘Poppies’ she tells the ‘story’ of a mother’s
experience of pain and loss as her son leaves
home to go to war. She has indicated that: ‘I
was subliminally thinking of Susan Owen
[mother of Wilfred]… and families of soldiers
killed in any war when I wrote this poem. This
poem attempts on one level to address female
experience and is consciously a political act.’
The poem is basically about a
mother who describes her son
leaving home to fight in the army
and her emotional reaction to her
son leaving. She feels sad, lonely
and scared for his safety. She
describes helping him smarten his
uniform ready to leave. After he
leaves, she goes to places that
remind her of him, desperately
trying to find any trace of him.
You should compare this poem with other
poems about the same themes: effects of
conflict: 'The Charge of the Light Brigade';
sadness and loss: 'Futility’
, 'The Falling
Leaves', 'Come On, Come Back’
.

3. Poppies
Three days before Armistice Sunday
and poppies had already been placed
on individual war graves. Before you left,
I pinned one onto your lapel, crimped petals,
spasms of paper red, disrupting a blockade
of yellow bias binding around your blazer.
Sellotape bandaged around my hand,
I rounded up as many white cat hairs
as I could, smoothed down your shirt’s
upturned collar, steeled the softening
of my face. I wanted to graze my nose
across the tip of your nose, play at
being Eskimos like we did when
you were little. I resisted the impulse
to run my fingers through the gelled
blackthorns of your hair. All my words
flattened, rolled, turned into felt,
slowly melting. I was brave, as I walked
with you, to the front door, threw
it open, the world overflowing
like a treasure chest. A split second
and you were away, intoxicated.
After you’d gone I went into your bedroom,
released a song bird from its cage.
Later a single dove flew from the pear tree,
and this is where it has led me,
skirting the church yard walls, my stomach busy
making tucks, darts, pleats, hat-less, without
a winter coat or reinforcements of scarf, gloves.
On reaching the top of the hill I traced
the inscriptions on the war memorial,
leaned against it like a wishbone.
The dove pulled freely against the sky,
an ornamental stitch. I listened, hoping to hear
your playground voice catching on the wind.

4. Three days before Armistice Sunday
and poppies had already been placed
on individual war graves. Before you left,
I pinned one onto your lapel, crimped petals,
spasms of paper red, disrupting a blockade
of yellow bias binding around your blazer.
Sellotape bandaged around my hand,
I rounded up as many white cat hairs
as I could, smoothed down your shirt’s
upturned collar, steeled the softening
of my face. I wanted to graze my nose
across the tip of your nose, play at
being Eskimos like we did when
you were little. I resisted the impulse
to run my fingers through the gelled
blackthorns of your hair. All my words
flattened, rolled, turned into felt,
There is no regular rhyme
or rhythm in this poem,
which helps to make it
sound like someone's
thoughts and memories.
Long sentences and
enjambment give an
impression of someone
absorbed in their own
thoughts and memories.
The poem starts with her
son leaving and then goes
on to describe what she did
afterwards, but the time
frame in the poem is
ambiguous. A lot of the
images could almost
describe a young child going
to school for the first time.
Armistice Day (also known as Remembrance Day) is on 11 November and
commemorates the armistice signed between the Allies of World War I and
Germany at Compiègne, France, for the cessation of hostilities on the Western
Front, which took effect at eleven o'clock in the morning—the "eleventh hour
of the eleventh day of the eleventh month" of 1918. As this is a poem about
remembrance of those who fought for their country, the poet has used this to
explore her own feelings of loss and remembrance.
The ‘bandage’ makes
the reader think of an
injured body or a
mother tending her
injured son. This has
further connotations
suggesting she is
emotionally wounded.
The mothering tone
continues when she
treats him like a child.
Metaphor suggests he's no
longer a child because he's
styled his hair. His prickly hair
suggests he's unapproachable.
The use of words such as
‘blockade’ suggests that she
feels shut out from her son's
life and the metaphorical
‘blazer’ which could be a
school uniform as well as an
army one represents her
pride for her son.

5. slowly melting. I was brave, as I walked
with you, to the front door, threw
it open, the world overflowing
like a treasure chest. A split second
and you were away, intoxicated.
After you’d gone I went into your bedroom,
released a song bird from its cage.
Later a single dove flew from the pear tree,
and this is where it has led me,
skirting the church yard walls, my stomach busy
making tucks, darts, pleats, hat-less, without
a winter coat or reinforcements of scarf, gloves.
On reaching the top of the hill I traced
the inscriptions on the war memorial,
leaned against it like a wishbone.
The dove pulled freely against the sky,
an ornamental stitch. I listened, hoping to hear
your playground voice catching on the wind.
The mother is sad about leaving her son.
She has feelings of anxiety and fear for
her son's safety. The poem focuses on the
bravery and restraint of the relatives left
behind when young people go to war. The
poem shows the contrasting perspectives
between the loss the mother feels and
the feelings of freedom and excitement
her son experience
There are lots of statements
beginning with the first person
which gives us a strong
impression of the mother's
emotions. The uses of metaphors
create Images of war and
bereavement which are mixed
with domestic imagery. Birds are
used as symbols of freedom to
describe the son leaving the
security of his home for the
excitement of the wider world.
The simile of ‘treasure chest’ shows the world from the son's
perspective and makes it sound exciting and full of precious
experiences but to the mother this can seem scary as she is
worried he will never return.
The word ‘intoxicated’
could simply suggest the
boy’s excitement or,
alternatively could
symbolise his coming of
age. He is old enough to
drink and fight for his
country signifying he is no
longer a boy and has
become a man.
The bird is symbolic of
her son leaving and
doves are a symbol of
peace but also
mourning.
Sewing imagery conveys her
nervousness and physical
feelings of anxiety. These can
be interpreted to describe her
physical feelings. Links leaving to join the army
with leaving to go to school.

6. slowly melting. I was brave, as I walked
with you, to the front door, threw
it open, the world overflowing
like a treasure chest. A split second
and you were away, intoxicated.
After you’d gone I went into your bedroom,
released a song bird from its cage.
Later a single dove flew from the pear tree,
and this is where it has led me,
skirting the church yard walls, my stomach busy
making tucks, darts, pleats, hat-less, without
a winter coat or reinforcements of scarf, gloves.
On reaching the top of the hill I traced
the inscriptions on the war memorial,
leaned against it like a wishbone.
The dove pulled freely against the sky,
an ornamental stitch. I listened, hoping to hear
your playground voice catching on the wind.
The mother is sad about leaving her son.
She has feelings of anxiety and fear for
her son's safety. The poem focuses on the
bravery and restraint of the relatives left
behind when young people go to war. The
poem shows the contrasting perspectives
between the loss the mother feels and
the feelings of freedom and excitement
her son experience
There are lots of statements
beginning with the first person
which gives us a strong
impression of the mother's
emotions. The uses of metaphors
create Images of war and
bereavement which are mixed
with domestic imagery. Birds are
used as symbols of freedom to
describe the son leaving the
security of his home for the
excitement of the wider world.
The simile of ‘treasure chest’ shows the world from the son's
perspective and makes it sound exciting and full of precious
experiences but to the mother this can seem scary as she is
worried he will never return.
The word ‘intoxicated’
could simply suggest the
boy’s excitement or,
alternatively could
symbolise his coming of
age. He is old enough to
drink and fight for his
country signifying he is no
longer a boy and has
become a man.
The bird is symbolic of
her son leaving and
doves are a symbol of
peace but also
mourning.
Sewing imagery conveys her
nervousness and physical
feelings of anxiety. These can
be interpreted to describe her
physical feelings. Links leaving to join the army
with leaving to go to school.