Breaking Hearts and Traffic Lights by Patrick Chapman

Patrick Chapman’s Breaking Hearts and Traffic Lights is a collection of poetry which functions as a continuous unit. If this were a piece of music, it would be a concept album. As the differences between songs and poems vary from vague to nonexistent, it should come as no surprise that this is a highly effective technique. The unifying concept is that of lost love, but the initial passion and hope that are presented show the pain of what is lost. It also allows for a variety of emotion that makes the collection more than a one-hit wonder.

In form, the poetry is free verse throughout. Chapman relies on imagery and double-meanings to create most of the impact in his poetry. In “Lovers,” the narrator is struck with sciatic pain and lies motionless in bed. The poem ends with, “But I did not appear to be wounded / Until after my nerve had returned.” The surface meaning of the word “nerve” is the sciatic nerve, but there is an underlying emotional current in the poem that makes it clear that he is also speaking of the courage to take action. These paired meanings are found throughout the poetry and add depth to the collection.

The elements of science fiction and fantasy are lightly sprinkled through Breaking Hearts and Traffic Lights. They are a backdrop, rather than a main theme. A good example of this comes from “Hope of Ray” in which the ray of the title references a comet—“The comet’s asleep / but the sun is awake”—but the theme of the poem is more properly stated in its first line “Thirty-six months to the day since we split.” This is a drawback if you are hoping for a tale of tomorrow or yesteryear. However, if you are simply looking for some good poetry, the occasional elements of the fantastic are an unexpected treat.

Most of these moments occur in Part Three. The first poem is “Planet Virgo Collage,” and other science-fiction/fantasy themed titles include “Shepherd Moons” and “Labyrinth.” Of these, “Shepherd Moons” is the one that uses the most sfnal imagery with “A pair of bonsai asteroids” and “A spacecraft in the wilderness.” However, these are once again tied to his central theme of loss. The small rocks (or bonsai asteroids) become reminders of happier times: “The moment passed. We were in love.” They then land on the narrator’s mantelpiece: “A pair of shepherd moons without / A planetary ring to keep in line.”

Other elements sprinkled throughout include a judicious amount of vulgarity and “adult situations.” “Planet Virgo Collage” has an “I’m so hot…” line that is both risqué and funny, but you will need to read it for yourself. The profanity is realistic without being over the top. In “Trash,” the observer responds to the situation of finding a raccoon in his trash quite naturally with the exclamation “What the fuck is this?” What could be more natural? And yet, the poet finds meaning even in a pile of rubbish.

Despite the occasional four-letter words, much of this poetry possesses a calming mood. “First Christmas by the Sea” exhibits this tranquility with a beautiful image. The poem begins with “Snow fell, layered on the house” and ends:

In the small hours, after wine, warm hearth and sleep,
They woke to find the television on.
Somehow, snow had got inside the house.

The language is unobtrusive and creates a cozy environment that perfectly evokes a night in front of the fire.

Chapman has managed to present amazing images of loss, without delving into pathos. By using spare images and double meanings, he allows the reader a moment to realize the emotions present in each situation. Real love, real pain, and real fear all have a place here, but none of them become overwhelming. While some poems have moments of brilliance, the true wonder is that of the collection as a whole.

Publisher: Salmon Poetry (Oct. 2007)
Price: €12.00
Paperback: 90 pages
ISBN: 978-1-903392-64-5