stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 19135
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2018-08-09 12:29:16
    [post_date_gmt] => 2018-08-09 12:29:16
    [post_content] => i.
swimming, eyes closed. i want to see
how far i’ll get before my breath runs out
and all i am is ripples. the sea feels
impossibly shoreless, here in the middle
where the waves twist my body into
a question mark: can the ocean exist
without us trying to cross it?

ii.
if water could speak
                its voice would be wave-crests.
if wave-crests could laugh
                it would be in curlicues of foam.
if foam is water’s laughter
                its arguments are storms.
if water’s rage is storms
                ice is its silence.
if stillness is silence
                movement is sound.
if i swim into the movement
                what meaning will i hear?
if i hear half a conversation
                its words are said in ripples.
if i forget the ripples’ language
                their movement will mean nothing.
if i name you voice
                you will still only be ocean.

iii.
so i spoke to my side of the sea.
taught tides to carry my stories
to wherever all language washes in,
where waves pronounce hello
in a voice not quite mine.

what did the ocean say back?
                shades of blue enunciated in salt.
                clarified: this colour means joy.
                voices slipping over voices, water
                over water.
what do you want to hear?

iv.
there’s an end-of-the-world stillness
here at the bottom of the sea. if
there was light i would walk across
the ocean floor counting shipwrecks,
archives of miscommunication.

i look up through the blue window
to see a world like mine,
an inch to the left.

v.
this is where the question runs out of air.
the ocean hums its still unbroken silence,
twists wave-crests into foam. i’m swimming
blind through my own voice. in this world’s
sea i have no body, only the ripples i leave
behind.
    [post_title] => soundwaves
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => soundwaves
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2018-08-09 12:29:16
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2018-08-09 12:29:16
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=19135
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
    [post_mime_type] => 
    [comment_count] => 0
    [filter] => raw
    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2018
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the first-prize winner in the W. S. Graham poetry challenge on Young Poets Network (YPN) in 2018.
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => 1st prize winner, W.S. Graham challenge
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
        )

    [poet_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [ID] => 17076
            [forename] => 
            [surname] => 
            [title] => Ella Standage
            [slug] => ella-standage
            [content] => Ella is a top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2017 and the first-prize winner of the W. S. Graham challenge on Young Poets Network as part of Graham’s centenary celebrations. Ella is the second-prize winner in Ankita Saxena’s protest poetry challenge, remembering 100 years of the women’s vote in the UK. Ella is also a runner-up in the Namedropping challenge and commended in the Ways to be Wilder poetry Challenge with People Need Nature and Jen Hadfield. Ella is a second prize winner in the Riddle Me This challenge and highly commended in the I Am the Universe challenge, as well as commended in the Young Poets Network Wish List challenge, a winner in the Winter Poems challenge and in the 2016 August Challenge #2. 
        )

)
stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 17076
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Ella Standage
    [slug] => ella-standage
    [content] => Ella is a top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2017 and the first-prize winner of the W. S. Graham challenge on Young Poets Network as part of Graham’s centenary celebrations. Ella is the second-prize winner in Ankita Saxena’s protest poetry challenge, remembering 100 years of the women’s vote in the UK. Ella is also a runner-up in the Namedropping challenge and commended in the Ways to be Wilder poetry Challenge with People Need Nature and Jen Hadfield. Ella is a second prize winner in the Riddle Me This challenge and highly commended in the I Am the Universe challenge, as well as commended in the Young Poets Network Wish List challenge, a winner in the Winter Poems challenge and in the 2016 August Challenge #2. 
)

soundwaves

Ella Standage

i.
swimming, eyes closed. i want to see
how far i’ll get before my breath runs out
and all i am is ripples. the sea feels
impossibly shoreless, here in the middle
where the waves twist my body into
a question mark: can the ocean exist
without us trying to cross it?

ii.
if water could speak
                its voice would be wave-crests.
if wave-crests could laugh
                it would be in curlicues of foam.
if foam is water’s laughter
                its arguments are storms.
if water’s rage is storms
                ice is its silence.
if stillness is silence
                movement is sound.
if i swim into the movement
                what meaning will i hear?
if i hear half a conversation
                its words are said in ripples.
if i forget the ripples’ language
                their movement will mean nothing.
if i name you voice
                you will still only be ocean.

iii.
so i spoke to my side of the sea.
taught tides to carry my stories
to wherever all language washes in,
where waves pronounce hello
in a voice not quite mine.

what did the ocean say back?
                shades of blue enunciated in salt.
                clarified: this colour means joy.
                voices slipping over voices, water
                over water.
what do you want to hear?

iv.
there’s an end-of-the-world stillness
here at the bottom of the sea. if
there was light i would walk across
the ocean floor counting shipwrecks,
archives of miscommunication.

i look up through the blue window
to see a world like mine,
an inch to the left.

v.
this is where the question runs out of air.
the ocean hums its still unbroken silence,
twists wave-crests into foam. i’m swimming
blind through my own voice. in this world’s
sea i have no body, only the ripples i leave
behind.