Christina Hennemann: How I Wrote ‘The Grim Reaper and the Empress’

Photo credit: Eddie Lee | Interview by Zoë Brigley

“A lot of my images and phrases are the result of letting my subconscious lead the way and just go with it”


The Grim Reaper and the Empress

The morning crow rattles me again, I’m plucked
from the branch of the cherry tree I used to climb,
lanky-boned and wild, under the heron-eye
of gnarled grandpapa. It was felled long after you left.
Blue ivy wound its mist around the barks, bending
the stubborn crown, the flowerbeds fouling
in November rain. Inside your fear I heard
at the brain-basement note of that shivering howl
a harmonica, yellowed by wiser lips, and the count
of foreign numbers: one, two, tree. Ghosts from a wasted
sharpness of mind, reaping seeds from the soil.
Yesterday, in the cinnamon-scent of your kitchen,
Kafka echoed in our mugs: On the moonlight square a man
walks still ahead in the snow. We lit the boding candle,
it rounded his moon-face in the greyscale photograph
your daughter framed in gold.
Dust kept falling on the scrubbed pane
like a thin fog on mountain range. I couldn’t
see him. There was no life, just light, thrown on the still
bridging our world and the old. He only visits me,
I told you, in my sleep. Until dusk
we sat together, caught in the rising flame,
looks into the evening water, hands on old stones—
a fierce love pinched me in the gut, and secateurs
severing the rotten tendrils. There, under wilted leaves,
a fresh shoot crawling out to spring, and your dewy eyes.

I enjoy reading all kinds of poetry, but this poem struck me and reminded me of a style of writing that I have also been really intrigued by in my own poetic practice which is based on using language in unusual combinations: e.g. ‘heron-eye’, ‘stubborn crown, ‘brain-basement note’. How do you go about creating surprising images and phrases?

I often ask myself the same question, to be honest. A lot of my images and phrases are the result of letting my subconscious lead the way and just go with it. After that, in a second step, I thoroughly edit with a focus on sound patterns and overall flow. Then again, sometimes it’s the other way round: some of my first drafts contain rather plain language because I want to get an idea on the page before it escapes me, and after that I look for replacements of ordinary, cliché phrases. In this poem, if I remember correctly, the ‘heron-eye’ was a simple ‘watchful eye’ at first. Then I sat with that draft for a while and let my mind wander until I came up with the image of a heron attentively watching the river, just waiting to catch a fish. I think the process of writing poetry is fascinating because it involves so many intangible elements.

Altogether, this poem takes on a dream like quality. Are you inspired by dreams or dream language?

Yes, very much. Only a few days ago I was asked to provide a writing tip for this year’s National Poetry Competition, and I said to keep a dream diary. My poems are frequently inspired by dreams. I’ve crafted some of my more mystical pieces using fragments of bizarre and/or beautiful dreams. Our subconscious is infinitely creative, and tapping into it provides us with an overflowing well of images, associations and the wildest plots. Oftentimes, our dreams tell us something about the bigger picture, such as collective consciousness and deeply engrained societal norms, tales and stories. In that sense, the works of Freud and particularly Jung have deeply influenced me.

It is a very rich poem which refuses to tell us everything. There is a lot we are left wondering about, and that can be a productive and nourishing thing for a poem, right?

Absolutely. This poem is very personal to me in some way, but I am not merely telling my story to be taken in by the reader. By leaving a sense of mystery and ambiguity, the poem provides room for the reader’s associations and experiences. I brought an earlier draft of this piece to a workshop, and it was so interesting to hear how others interpreted the poem. In my opinion, a poet shouldn’t be too descriptive in what they’re saying. I want to open up spaces for meaning and significance beyond the poet’s own story and biography.


Christina Hennemann

Christina Hennemann (she/her) is a poet and prose writer based in Ireland. Her poetry pamphlet Illuminations at Nightfall was published by Sunday Mornings at the River in 2022. She’s the winner of the Luain Press Prize 2022, was shortlisted in the Anthology Poetry Award & Dark Winter Contest, and longlisted in the National Poetry Competition. Her work appears in Skylight 47, The Moth, fifth wheel, Ink Sweat & Tears, Moria, and elsewhere.

You can follow her on Twitter @chr_writer, Instagram @c.h_92 and on her website www.christinahennemann.com


Want More from Poetry Wales? Sign Up to Our Newsletter

* indicates required

Please select all the ways you would like to hear from Poetry Wales:

You can unsubscribe at any time by clicking the link in the footer of our emails. For information about our privacy practices, please visit our website.

We use Mailchimp as our marketing platform. By clicking below to subscribe, you acknowledge that your information will be transferred to Mailchimp for processing. Learn more about Mailchimp’s privacy practices.

Intuit Mailchimp