1. What do you notice about your paper
What do you notice about your paper? What does it feel like, can you write on it properly?
On your tissue paper, write down three examples you can use where paper has POWER in our world.

2. The power of paper To communicate and write!
Books- classic books, modern books, religious books like the Bible and the Koran.
Important records about human life– birth certificates, death certificates
Important records about the economy – bills, receipts, bank statements.
Maps

3. Tissue by Imtiaz Dharker
Thursday 20th April 2017
C/L
Tissue by Imtiaz Dharker
LESSON OBJECTIVE:
To understand how the idea of power is raised through Dharker’s poem about paper.
LESSON OUTCOME: To give detailed annotations that stay focused on the idea of power.

4. AO3- Knowing the background of the poet so that you can bring that knowledge to the poem.
Imtiaz Dharker Fact File
Born in Pakistan.
Husband died of cancer; she has experienced the fragility of life.
Moved to Glasgow when she 1.
She now divides her time living in Glasgow and India.
This poem comes from The Terrorist at my Table.
She usually explores themes of politics, conflict and home.

5. Human power is as weak as tissue paper
The poem uses paper as an extended metaphor for human power.
We see how paper can used for our power: through receipts, maps, bibles.
However all of this is one great pathetic illusion. We are NOT as powerful as nature.
Once you shine a light on our buildings, our maps and our receipts we are as weak as tissue paper.

6. Let’s read the poem
Keep in mind that paper is an extended metaphor for humans.
That means that paper constantly links back to humans and our power throughout the poem.

7. Where are we in the poem?
Paper that lets the light
shine through, this
is what could alter things.
Paper thinned by age or touching,
the kind you find in well-used books,
the back of the Koran, where a hand
has written in the names and histories,
who was born to whom,
the height and weight, who
died where and how, on which sepia date,
pages smoothed and stroked and turned
transparent with attention.
If buildings were paper, I might
feel their drift, see how easily
they fall away on a sigh, a shift
in the direction of the wind.
Maps too. The sun shines through
their borderlines, the marks
that rivers make, roads,
railtracks, mountainfolds,
Fine slips from grocery shops
that say how much was sold
and what was paid by credit card
might fly our lives like paper kites.
An architect could use all this,
place layer over layer, luminous
script over numbers over line,
and never wish to build again with brick
or block, but let the daylight break
through capitals and monoliths,
through the shapes that pride can make,
find a way to trace a grand design
with living tissue, raise a structure
never meant to last,
of paper smoothed and stroked
and thinned to be transparent,
turned into your skin.
Because Dharker is a multi-cultural person, the light could be a symbol for religion.
Paper that lets the light shine through, this is what could alter things.
If we take the light as god and the power of god, then the message here could be that religion can alter (change) our lives.

8. Paper thinned by age or touching,
Where are we in the poem?
Paper that lets the light
shine through, this
is what could alter things.
Paper thinned by age or touching,
the kind you find in well-used books,
the back of the Koran, where a hand
has written in the names and histories,
who was born to whom,
the height and weight, who
died where and how, on which sepia date,
pages smoothed and stroked and turned
transparent with attention.
If buildings were paper, I might
feel their drift, see how easily
they fall away on a sigh, a shift
in the direction of the wind.
Maps too. The sun shines through
their borderlines, the marks
that rivers make, roads,
railtracks, mountainfolds,
Fine slips from grocery shops
that say how much was sold
and what was paid by credit card
might fly our lives like paper kites.
An architect could use all this,
place layer over layer, luminous
script over numbers over line,
and never wish to build again with brick
or block, but let the daylight break
through capitals and monoliths,
through the shapes that pride can make,
find a way to trace a grand design
with living tissue, raise a structure
never meant to last,
of paper smoothed and stroked
and thinned to be transparent,
turned into your skin.
Paper thinned by age or touching,
We have moved onto the power of man now.
“touching” can mean touching experiences and people who age us and make us more fragile

9. This can show the power of people as we can outlast books and paper.
Where are we in the poem?
Paper that lets the light
shine through, this
is what could alter things.
Paper thinned by age or touching,
the kind you find in well-used books,
the back of the Koran, where a hand
has written in the names and histories,
who was born to whom,
the height and weight, who
died where and how, on which sepia date,
pages smoothed and stroked and turned
transparent with attention.
If buildings were paper, I might
feel their drift, see how easily
they fall away on a sigh, a shift
in the direction of the wind.
Maps too. The sun shines through
their borderlines, the marks
that rivers make, roads,
railtracks, mountainfolds,
Fine slips from grocery shops
that say how much was sold
and what was paid by credit card
might fly our lives like paper kites.
An architect could use all this,
place layer over layer, luminous
script over numbers over line,
and never wish to build again with brick
or block, but let the daylight break
through capitals and monoliths,
through the shapes that pride can make,
find a way to trace a grand design
with living tissue, raise a structure
never meant to last,
of paper smoothed and stroked
and thinned to be transparent,
turned into your skin.
The book is a metaphor for us! We have been touched by others and experiences a lot like the Koran.
In the 2nd stanza the religious imagery continues as the focus is now on paper in the Koran.
the kind you find in well-used books, the back of the Koran, where a hand has written in the names and histories, who was born to whom,
This can show the power of people as we can outlast books and paper.

10. Sepia = a reddish brown colour like on old books
Where are we in the poem?
Paper that lets the light
shine through, this
is what could alter things.
Paper thinned by age or touching,
the kind you find in well-used books,
the back of the Koran, where a hand
has written in the names and histories,
who was born to whom,
the height and weight, who
died where and how, on which sepia date,
pages smoothed and stroked and turned
transparent with attention.
If buildings were paper, I might
feel their drift, see how easily
they fall away on a sigh, a shift
in the direction of the wind.
Maps too. The sun shines through
their borderlines, the marks
that rivers make, roads,
railtracks, mountainfolds,
Fine slips from grocery shops
that say how much was sold
and what was paid by credit card
might fly our lives like paper kites.
An architect could use all this,
place layer over layer, luminous
script over numbers over line,
and never wish to build again with brick
or block, but let the daylight break
through capitals and monoliths,
through the shapes that pride can make,
find a way to trace a grand design
with living tissue, raise a structure
never meant to last,
of paper smoothed and stroked
and thinned to be transparent,
turned into your skin.
The extended metaphor linking paper to skin carries on. Paper is human skin that is smoothed and stroked by the touch of another human being. The last verb “turned” could show the power of humans turning and changing other human beings.
the height and weight, who died where and how, on which sepia date, pages smoothed and stroked and turned transparent with attention.
The paper turns transparent from getting older. We do the same, we become more fragile as we age.
Sepia = a reddish brown colour like on old books

11. It emphasises how weak paper can be.
In the real world paper isn’t powerful you cannot create buildings out of it.
Where are we in the poem?
Paper that lets the light
shine through, this
is what could alter things.
Paper thinned by age or touching,
the kind you find in well-used books,
the back of the Koran, where a hand
has written in the names and histories,
who was born to whom,
the height and weight, who
died where and how, on which sepia date,
pages smoothed and stroked and turned
transparent with attention.
If buildings were paper, I might
feel their drift, see how easily
they fall away on a sigh, a shift
in the direction of the wind.
Maps too. The sun shines through
their borderlines, the marks
that rivers make, roads,
railtracks, mountainfolds,
Fine slips from grocery shops
that say how much was sold
and what was paid by credit card
might fly our lives like paper kites.
An architect could use all this,
place layer over layer, luminous
script over numbers over line,
and never wish to build again with brick
or block, but let the daylight break
through capitals and monoliths,
through the shapes that pride can make,
find a way to trace a grand design
with living tissue, raise a structure
never meant to last,
of paper smoothed and stroked
and thinned to be transparent,
turned into your skin.
The poet is suggesting that buildings are worthless. If they were paper we wouldn’t care.
If buildings were paper, I might feel their drift, see how easily they fall away on a sigh, a shift in the direction of the wind.
What technique is this?
It emphasises how weak paper can be.
Power of nature: the wind can easily knock us over.

12. Maps too. The sun shines through their borderlines, the marks
Where are we in the poem?
Paper that lets the light
shine through, this
is what could alter things.
Paper thinned by age or touching,
the kind you find in well-used books,
the back of the Koran, where a hand
has written in the names and histories,
who was born to whom,
the height and weight, who
died where and how, on which sepia date,
pages smoothed and stroked and turned
transparent with attention.
If buildings were paper, I might
feel their drift, see how easily
they fall away on a sigh, a shift
in the direction of the wind.
Maps too. The sun shines through
their borderlines, the marks
that rivers make, roads,
railtracks, mountainfolds,
Fine slips from grocery shops
that say how much was sold
and what was paid by credit card
might fly our lives like paper kites.
An architect could use all this,
place layer over layer, luminous
script over numbers over line,
and never wish to build again with brick
or block, but let the daylight break
through capitals and monoliths,
through the shapes that pride can make,
find a way to trace a grand design
with living tissue, raise a structure
never meant to last,
of paper smoothed and stroked
and thinned to be transparent,
turned into your skin.
What do maps do?
They divide the natural world through man’s power.
Man makes the decision about borderlines. Maps are a great example of us creating divides that aren’t naturally there.
Maps too. The sun shines through
their borderlines, the marks
that rivers make, roads,
railtracks, mountainfolds,
The listing here shows a tight control. It could reflect how man wants a tight control to divide up the world and make it into meaningless things.

13. Fine slips from grocery shops that say how much was sold
Where are we in the poem?
Paper that lets the light
shine through, this
is what could alter things.
Paper thinned by age or touching,
the kind you find in well-used books,
the back of the Koran, where a hand
has written in the names and histories,
who was born to whom,
the height and weight, who
died where and how, on which sepia date,
pages smoothed and stroked and turned
transparent with attention.
If buildings were paper, I might
feel their drift, see how easily
they fall away on a sigh, a shift
in the direction of the wind.
Maps too. The sun shines through
their borderlines, the marks
that rivers make, roads,
railtracks, mountainfolds,
Fine slips from grocery shops
that say how much was sold
and what was paid by credit card
might fly our lives like paper kites.
An architect could use all this,
place layer over layer, luminous
script over numbers over line,
and never wish to build again with brick
or block, but let the daylight break
through capitals and monoliths,
through the shapes that pride can make,
find a way to trace a grand design
with living tissue, raise a structure
never meant to last,
of paper smoothed and stroked
and thinned to be transparent,
turned into your skin.
Now we move onto another thing man has made to control the world: receipts.
The adjective “fine” is SO important here. The receipts are weak like we are with money controlling us.
Fine slips from grocery shops
that say how much was sold
and what was paid by credit card
might fly our lives like paper kites.
This simile referring to kites could show how money controls us like puppets.

14. An architect could use all this, place layer over layer, luminous
Where are we in the poem?
Paper that lets the light
shine through, this
is what could alter things.
Paper thinned by age or touching,
the kind you find in well-used books,
the back of the Koran, where a hand
has written in the names and histories,
who was born to whom,
the height and weight, who
died where and how, on which sepia date,
pages smoothed and stroked and turned
transparent with attention.
If buildings were paper, I might
feel their drift, see how easily
they fall away on a sigh, a shift
in the direction of the wind.
Maps too. The sun shines through
their borderlines, the marks
that rivers make, roads,
railtracks, mountainfolds,
Fine slips from grocery shops
that say how much was sold
and what was paid by credit card
might fly our lives like paper kites.
An architect could use all this,
place layer over layer, luminous
script over numbers over line,
and never wish to build again with brick
or block, but let the daylight break
through capitals and monoliths,
through the shapes that pride can make,
find a way to trace a grand design
with living tissue, raise a structure
never meant to last,
of paper smoothed and stroked
and thinned to be transparent,
turned into your skin.
An architect could use all this,
place layer over layer, luminous
script over numbers over line,
and never wish to build again with brick

15. SHOWING THE POWER OF NATURE!
Where are we in the poem?
Paper that lets the light
shine through, this
is what could alter things.
Paper thinned by age or touching,
the kind you find in well-used books,
the back of the Koran, where a hand
has written in the names and histories,
who was born to whom,
the height and weight, who
died where and how, on which sepia date,
pages smoothed and stroked and turned
transparent with attention.
If buildings were paper, I might
feel their drift, see how easily
they fall away on a sigh, a shift
in the direction of the wind.
Maps too. The sun shines through
their borderlines, the marks
that rivers make, roads,
railtracks, mountainfolds,
Fine slips from grocery shops
that say how much was sold
and what was paid by credit card
might fly our lives like paper kites.
An architect could use all this,
place layer over layer, luminous
script over numbers over line,
and never wish to build again with brick
or block, but let the daylight break
through capitals and monoliths,
through the shapes that pride can make,
find a way to trace a grand design
with living tissue, raise a structure
never meant to last,
of paper smoothed and stroked
and thinned to be transparent,
turned into your skin.
SHOWING THE POWER OF NATURE!
This has a political message.
Let the sun shine on the governments and people who control us.
The sun can mock how pathetic our attempts at power are.
or block, but let the daylight break
through capitals and monoliths,
through the shapes that pride can make,
find a way to trace a grand design
Go back at the maps, where can you see nature (the sun) again mocking how we try to be powerful over nature.
Monolith = a building of government

16. with living tissue, raise a structure never meant to last,
Where are we in the poem?
Paper that lets the light
shine through, this
is what could alter things.
Paper thinned by age or touching,
the kind you find in well-used books,
the back of the Koran, where a hand
has written in the names and histories,
who was born to whom,
the height and weight, who
died where and how, on which sepia date,
pages smoothed and stroked and turned
transparent with attention.
If buildings were paper, I might
feel their drift, see how easily
they fall away on a sigh, a shift
in the direction of the wind.
Maps too. The sun shines through
their borderlines, the marks
that rivers make, roads,
railtracks, mountainfolds,
Fine slips from grocery shops
that say how much was sold
and what was paid by credit card
might fly our lives like paper kites.
An architect could use all this,
place layer over layer, luminous
script over numbers over line,
and never wish to build again with brick
or block, but let the daylight break
through capitals and monoliths,
through the shapes that pride can make,
find a way to trace a grand design
with living tissue, raise a structure
never meant to last,
of paper smoothed and stroked
and thinned to be transparent,
turned into your skin.
This tone is quite sad it could suggest 2 things:
Human beings are not meant to last a long life: we can’t cope with it.
Human power is fragile and won’t last longer than nature.
with living tissue, raise a structure
never meant to last,
of paper smoothed and stroked
and thinned to be transparent,
Repeated idea of transparency. That we can see through our attempts for power and how humans are weakened.

17. Where are we in the poem?
Paper that lets the light
shine through, this
is what could alter things.
Paper thinned by age or touching,
the kind you find in well-used books,
the back of the Koran, where a hand
has written in the names and histories,
who was born to whom,
the height and weight, who
died where and how, on which sepia date,
pages smoothed and stroked and turned
transparent with attention.
If buildings were paper, I might
feel their drift, see how easily
they fall away on a sigh, a shift
in the direction of the wind.
Maps too. The sun shines through
their borderlines, the marks
that rivers make, roads,
railtracks, mountainfolds,
Fine slips from grocery shops
that say how much was sold
and what was paid by credit card
might fly our lives like paper kites.
An architect could use all this,
place layer over layer, luminous
script over numbers over line,
and never wish to build again with brick
or block, but let the daylight break
through capitals and monoliths,
through the shapes that pride can make,
find a way to trace a grand design
with living tissue, raise a structure
never meant to last,
of paper smoothed and stroked
and thinned to be transparent,
turned into your skin.
Structurally this is interesting because it is a single line. The only one line stanza in the poem.
turned into your skin.
Leaves us with the message that our power is weak like tissue paper.