Isobel Burke is a Canadian poet born and raised on Vancouver Island. She was shortlisted for the 2024 Bridport Prize for Poetry and her poetry collection “inheritance” won the Saints & Sinners Literary Festival poetry contest in 2023. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in publications including PRISM International, Anti-Heroin Chic, and Penumbra Online, amongst others.
You can read self portrait as a chronic limp. in the April 2025 issue.
Would you like to tell us a little bit more about your poem? For instance, how or why you wrote it, or perhaps provide some extra context?
It’s such a uniquely vulnerable thing to show other people the lens you see yourself through, the parts that stand out most to you about yourself, and the parts that fall by the wayside. I’ve always had a fondness for self-portrait poems, but had never penned a poem with that specific intent prior to self portrait as a chronic limp. I never like to say too much about individual pieces, because part of the beauty of poetry to me is getting your hands on a poem and moulding it into something you recognize.
Why was the poetic form the best fit for this particular piece of work?
On a practical level, poetry is the thing that I do— I’ve never had an ear for music or a hand for painting, so if there’s something I want to explore, I have to use my words. The more interesting answer, though, comes down to the shape and texture of poetry. At least for me, there’s a certain motion and physicality that can be captured in poetry that is hard to communicate in an image; at the same time, when you get a person alone with your words, absent any instrumentation, or the inflection of a voice providing any sense of intention, you can create such a unique, visceral connection between the reader and the work that’s hard to get in any other art form.
If you didn’t write poetry, how do you think you might access the same fulfillments that poetry offers in your life?
I have a really hard time imagining my life without poetry in it. I have complete aphantasia, which is a total inability to visualize images. For me, this means that whenever I want to interface with a memory or idea in any way, I have to do so in words. I think this allows me to approach writing with a unique voice but, at the same time, it makes audiovisual creative endeavours somewhat incomprehensible to me. I’m a music lover, and greatly appreciate photography, sculpture, and paintings, but I can’t even really imagine how one goes about creating those things.
As a poet, what does creative success or achievement look like for you?
I love poetry because it creates a unique window into someone else’s story at such an intimate level and provides the opportunity to find flickers of yourself or your experience in someone who you may have next to nothing in common with. It creates a type of connection that I don’t think you can get anywhere else. For me, what I want more than anything else is to hear that my work has touched people and resonated with them in a way that makes them feel seen and understood.
What are you reading or watching or listening to lately that intrigues or inspires you?
I’ve been reading “We Have Always Lived in the Castle” by Shirley Jackson. I am always in awe at Jackson’s ability to embody a character’s voice in her work and weave together a narrative. Like a lot of people, I’ve also been watching Severance, which is endlessly intriguing. Both works are unrelenting pieces of art and unafraid of taking risks— it’s impossible not to be inspired.
Do you belong to a writer’s group? If not, where do you find poetry community and feedback?
I have never belonged to a formal writing circle, but I have always sought out the company of thoughtful and creative individuals. I think finding community with people who share your craft is important, but I think it’s likewise as important to find community with people who don’t. I’m frequently sharing my work with artists whose work takes on a different form, like painters, novelists and dancers, as well as occasional poetry-enjoyers and people who don’t typically read poetry at all. This way, I get feedback from a wide range of perspectives.
How did you begin writing poetry? Was there a specific inspiration or reason?
I think I started writing poetry in 10th grade after coming across Richard Siken’s Self-Portrait against Red Wallpaper on a blog. I think that was the first time I read a poem that really gripped me, and I went on to hunt down copies of his two collections that were published at the time. Reading his work was the first time I had ever truly felt seen, and I write for the same reason now— in hopes my words can find someone when they need them.