Poets for the Planet

Moya De Feyter writes poetry, theatre scripts and prose. Her debut collection Tot iemand eindelijk (Until someone finally) was nominated for the Poëziedebuutprijs aan Zee and received an honourable mention from the jury of the C. Buddingh Prize. Her second book Massastrandingen (Mass strandings) is a kaleidoscopic prose poem about climate change, marine mammals, orange trees, storms and love. Lately, Moya has been collecting stories from the dusty shelves of mythology and nature worship, trying to find a way out of the blinking lights of capitalism, and she’s also travelling through Flanders and the Netherlands to present her work to an audience through poetry performances.

Did you have a moment when you became a climate activist?

I have written a collection of poetry called Mass strandings, which is partly about the destruction of our living environment, about the damage that mankind has caused on earth. The idea for this collection of poems arose after I saw a video clip on television of a gigantic whale that washed up on the coast of the Netherlands. The phenomenon of ‘mass stranding’ means that two or more whales are stranded together on the coast, it happens often and people still do not know why. Are they sick? Did they lose their sense of direction because of boat sonars under water? Is it because of all the plastic in the ocean? Is it collective despair? Suicide? From that whale, I began to study marine life, and subsequently what we do with marine life on land, in aquariums, as food, in animal products. From there, the leap to climate change was not a big one to take. A year after Mass strandings appeared, I sent out a call in my network with the idea of the Klimaatdichters, the Flemish/Dutch branch of Poets for the Planet on Debra Watson’s (founding member of P4P) advice.

What can poems do in this struggle for understanding and action?

I see the climate crisis not only as one that begs for action, but also as one of imagination. We simply cannot imagine a different – better – world, and this makes it all the more difficult to deal with something as enormous and abstract as climate change. I am convinced that most people are still more frightened and paralysed – afraid to lose what they have – than malicious. As a poet, there is nothing I believe in more than the power of language to open up imaginations, to depict new worlds, new ways of living and thinking, of caring and trusting. A poem can strengthen the connection between life forms, between humans, animals and plants, it can create space for pain and doubt, it can provide a framework and give courage and comfort. Among the climate poets, we also have very loud, activist slam poets who make strong political work and appeal to action in a more direct way, but as far as I am concerned, that soft, intimate and empathic side of poetry is just as important. We cannot expect those who feel lonely, lost and abandoned to look after or even fight for their surroundings. Caring for our fragile planet always goes hand in hand with caring for vulnerable people – and that’s all of us.

Tell us about some of your climate change poems?

I have been writing about our planet for the past four years, so that’s a lot of poems! I still find it a challenge to find the right balance between despair, anger, grief and care, but sometimes it works and the audience seems to connect. For example, I wrote a poem called ‘The Scream of the Forest’, in which I try to put myself in the shoes of all sorts of trees and woodland creatures. I try to feel what really happens when a tree is cut down or dries up or burns and its whole rhythm is disturbed. It is a long, rhythmic, meandering poem that ends as follows:

yet it is thirsty now
the vibrations in the trunks are swelling
a tree cannot run when its supply is exhausted or the light too far away
the axe is approaching and not even when the heat
turned bark and foliage into a powder keg from
how long can you stand in economy mode
feel your leaves sucking in vain
when does the pressure get too great
are you forced to burst the first capillary
[…]
we need a mother, a mother with arms who says
for dangerous things you may be afraid, no you must, but even then 
you can, like a tree in a forest 
only take the space that is there
and pass on your sugar to the stump

How is the climate action going in Belgium?

Climate action has expanded from a small group with strongly held views to a more or less widely held belief in the general population. Of course, little things change: when I was a child, no one in my family or group of friends was a vegetarian, now the vast majority are. Flying is less and less the norm. People try to buy organic. There is a sense of community – perhaps because it is a small, sort of manageable country – Belgians want to stop polluting companies and fossil fuel industries as much as they can. But is that enough? It is now up to politicians and big corporations to take huge, bold steps so that we can achieve the climate targets. The awareness is there, but the world has to change at every level – economically, politically, in terms of food, transport, industry and communication. Climate activists can shout it loudly, provide information and offer comfort, but after that it is up to the people with power to push through changes.

Do you have hope?

For me, despair is just as activating as hope. I am not optimistic, I am mostly angry and sad, but that does not make me give up. Maybe it’s not about hope or despair, but rather about working, persevering, connecting with others and joining forces. I will keep saying that until the bitter end, even if we reach the tipping point and the world (or at least humanity) is beyond saving. People’s desire to live is great, even in the midst of war, violence and natural disasters, and it always will be. We are able to experience the greatest horrors and still carry on. But are we also capable of redrawing every chalk line of the system and changing every little cog in our world? I hope so, and that hope is a conscious choice, a decision to trust in the good of people rather than the bad.

Interview by Rose Rouse @rosejanerouse