stdClass Object
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    [ID] => 18173
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2017-09-08 16:15:21
    [post_date_gmt] => 2017-09-08 16:15:21
    [post_content] => Inspired by Holst’s The Planets

 

From Mercury to Pluto

i. It’s his first time falling for a boy. His heart, scherzando, laughs him breathless.
Here, he can almost touch the sun.

ii. flushed cheeks in spring rain and silver love songs exchanged on women’s lips.
a whisper carried on rose petals and curly hair.

iii. Indecisive. Love blooms like fresh blood in secret corners of coffee shops and derelict
mansions. Gramophones play the usual, striking up an idea in a young composer’s head.
He wishes to escape this planet and its fixation with the natural workings of the human heart.

iv. A tumultuous rollercoaster ride. A never-ending crescendo.
Did you know red has multiple connotations?

v. The jester juggles moons- one, two, three, one, two three- we take one look at each other
and cry with laughter at our wine-stained teeth.

vi. snow against your dark skin. i bequeath you this ring of ice. i do. i do. we are married, if
only for a moment.
(it will take lightyears for them to change their minds. we can’t even grow old as friends.)

vii. Our love speaks in polar tones.
One day, a magician. The next, a man throwing glitter and feathers into the cold night sky.

viii. Scenes from old romance movies left out in the rain. Water carries this kind of love into
the drains of history. You can still hear the swelling strings and the choir’s O-shaped mouths narrating the anticipation of a first kiss.

ix. you cut me off before i could even begin. i am still here. a composer’s final thought.
then carried away like a lover’s tears drying under a cold, distant sun.
    [post_title] => The Planets in Love
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    [post_modified] => 2017-09-11 15:22:10
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    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=18173
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    [post_type] => poems
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            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2017
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem was a winner in the BBC Proms Poetry Competition 2017.
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => Winner
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            [ID] => 18171
            [forename] => 
            [surname] => 
            [title] => Emily Hana
            [slug] => emily-hana
            [content] => Emily is a winner in the BBC Proms Poetry Competition 2017. She is also a winner in the Winter Poems challenge on Young Poets Network.
        )

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stdClass Object
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    [ID] => 18171
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Emily Hana
    [slug] => emily-hana
    [content] => Emily is a winner in the BBC Proms Poetry Competition 2017. She is also a winner in the Winter Poems challenge on Young Poets Network.
)

The Planets in Love

Emily Hana

Inspired by Holst’s The Planets

 

From Mercury to Pluto

i. It’s his first time falling for a boy. His heart, scherzando, laughs him breathless.
Here, he can almost touch the sun.

ii. flushed cheeks in spring rain and silver love songs exchanged on women’s lips.
a whisper carried on rose petals and curly hair.

iii. Indecisive. Love blooms like fresh blood in secret corners of coffee shops and derelict
mansions. Gramophones play the usual, striking up an idea in a young composer’s head.
He wishes to escape this planet and its fixation with the natural workings of the human heart.

iv. A tumultuous rollercoaster ride. A never-ending crescendo.
Did you know red has multiple connotations?

v. The jester juggles moons- one, two, three, one, two three- we take one look at each other
and cry with laughter at our wine-stained teeth.

vi. snow against your dark skin. i bequeath you this ring of ice. i do. i do. we are married, if
only for a moment.
(it will take lightyears for them to change their minds. we can’t even grow old as friends.)

vii. Our love speaks in polar tones.
One day, a magician. The next, a man throwing glitter and feathers into the cold night sky.

viii. Scenes from old romance movies left out in the rain. Water carries this kind of love into
the drains of history. You can still hear the swelling strings and the choir’s O-shaped mouths narrating the anticipation of a first kiss.

ix. you cut me off before i could even begin. i am still here. a composer’s final thought.
then carried away like a lover’s tears drying under a cold, distant sun.