stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 17905
    [post_author] => 18
    [post_date] => 2017-03-29 19:19:25
    [post_date_gmt] => 2017-03-29 19:19:25
    [post_content] => After Yves Klein

In the street, I am warm past my summer skin,
the pavement is burning the soles of my feet.
My shadow copies me as I open my arms. When
I jump, it jumps, but it doesn’t leave the ground.
The light through my closed eyes tells me
a secret, that I am the most beautiful red.
And another, that it has travelled millions of
miles, unobstructed, to touch only my body.
    [post_title] => Hiroshima, 1961
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => hiroshima-1961
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2017-03-30 09:49:45
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2017-03-30 09:49:45
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=17905
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
    [post_mime_type] => 
    [comment_count] => 0
    [filter] => raw
    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2016
            [wpcf-summary-description] => 'Hiroshima, 1961' was commended in the 2016 National Poetry Competition. 

From the judges: "Simplicity is a bold aesthetic strategy: it leaves nowhere to hide. ‘Hiroshima, 1961’ is an apparently simple poem riffing off the famous Yves Klein image, showing shadow figures of light against a blue ground. The poem is a brief paean to the fact of having a body, emphasised in its vulnerability by the reference to the artist’s image, the predominant colour of which is blue, against which the poem’s narrator contrasts the recognition that s/he is ‘the most beautiful red’. The realisation in the closing two lines is surprising, fresh and, given the context, though in ways I don’t wish to unpick, a touch sinister." - Gerry Cambridge [wpcf-rights-information] => [wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, National Poetry Competition 2016 [wpcf_pr_belongs] => ) [poet_data] => stdClass Object ( [ID] => 17880 [forename] => [surname] => [title] => Holly Singlehurst [slug] => holly-singlehurst [content] => Holly Singlehurst lives and works in Rutland, England’s smallest county. She has recently graduated from Birmingham University with a Master’s in Creative Writing, having studied Music and English Literature for her Undergraduate Degree. Alongside her academic studies, she spent most of her time writing poetry and performing in various choirs and operas.  ) )
stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 17880
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Holly Singlehurst
    [slug] => holly-singlehurst
    [content] => Holly Singlehurst lives and works in Rutland, England’s smallest county. She has recently graduated from Birmingham University with a Master’s in Creative Writing, having studied Music and English Literature for her Undergraduate Degree. Alongside her academic studies, she spent most of her time writing poetry and performing in various choirs and operas. 
)

Hiroshima, 1961

Holly Singlehurst

After Yves Klein

In the street, I am warm past my summer skin,
the pavement is burning the soles of my feet.
My shadow copies me as I open my arms. When
I jump, it jumps, but it doesn’t leave the ground.
The light through my closed eyes tells me
a secret, that I am the most beautiful red.
And another, that it has travelled millions of
miles, unobstructed, to touch only my body.