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[ID] => 21392
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2021-01-29 11:54:04
[post_date_gmt] => 2021-01-29 11:54:04
[post_content] => Contains strong languageDownload a screen-reader friendly version of this zine
[post_title] => Anime Boyz
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
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[post_name] => anime-boyz
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[wpcf-date-published] => 2021
[wpcf-summary-description] => This zine is the first-prize winner of the Collaborative Challenge on Young Poets Network in 2021. It was edited by Lydia Wei and Em Power.
In her introduction, Em writes, "This zine started as a joke between me and my co-editor and bloomed into something incredibly cool. The joke was something along the lines of: haha, aren’t poetry zines meant to be about, like, artsy topics, what if we did one on anime boys? Then the joke became, no, imagine if we actually made a whole zine just about how much we love anime boys. Then the joke became: I need to make a collage of Tetsuo from Akira surrounded by 100 gecs lyrics lest I die unfulfilled." The zine uses illustration and poetry to explore love, grief, growing up, fandom and more.
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => 1st prize, Collaborative Challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
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[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21393
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Lydia Wei, Em Power, Adelina Rose Gowans, Sanjula Narayanan, Ann Dinh, Anne Rong, Carly Chan, Mae, Melissa Sibilla, Mica Pascual, Nina Joseph, Peach and Sherri Keys
[slug] => lydia-wei-em-power-adelina-rose-gowans-sanjula-narayanan-ann-dinh-anne-rong-carly-chan-mae-melissa-sibilla-mica-pascual-nina-joseph-peach-and-sherri-keys
[content] => The writers and artists in group are the first-prize winners in the collaborative challenge on Young Poets Network, with their zine Anime Boyz.
)
)
[1] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21388
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2021-01-29 11:54:01
[post_date_gmt] => 2021-01-29 11:54:01
[post_content] => [audio wav="https://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/Kia-Matanky-Becker-cassie-and-the-flood-1.wav"][/audio]
Cassie had creases in her cheeks,
they were wrinkled like fingers that had spent too long in the bath;
Cassie had a leak, she had a tearaway tear duct that was responsible for the flood,
her clothes were soaked through, they stick to her skin like a wet suit.
Every suit Cassie wore was a wet suit,
and her feet flippers as she flopped through the floods of tears
that sometimes rose up so high they kept her trapped inside;
she dragged sleep sandbags out from under the bed to pile in the doorway but those got soggy too
and floated away down the street past the people and the post office and the parked cars, little boats with sandy sails.
Cassie swam after them, but her eyes were waves and riptides
that tossed her body up into the air then dragged it deep below the water.
She opened her mouth to scream,
but it filled with water,
she spat it out, and pursed her lips, a drawstring smile tied in a tight knot.
There was something quite comforting about not being able to scream,
something quite comforting about having a reason for being so quiet.
She smiled at the fish, they smiled back,
they didn’t ask her any questions, they knew Cassie isn’t speaking so she doesn’t drown.
Her mum doesn’t know, her mum asks her lots of question like
You're alright aren’t you
Everything’s fine isn’t it
Yes Mum I’m fine
When she speaks to her mum, little bubbles form on her lips and burst on her tongue;
the bubbles are cherry flavoured synthetic and sticky like chewing gum that makes you jaw ache and face go numb.
Cassie's mum is a sunbed mum with a sunbed smile and dry eyes.
She lies in the sand staring at the sun,
she never notices the ocean or the waves that lick around her daughter's feet.
She doesn’t understand why Cassie keeps floating away.
[post_title] => Cassie and the Flood
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
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[wpcf-date-published] => 2021
[wpcf-summary-description] => This is the second-prize winner of the Collaborative Challenge on Young Poets Network in 2021.
Kia and Miles say, "We met at Goldsmiths University of London where Kia studied Fine Art and Miles studied Music. Before lockdown, we saw each other most days and regularly collaborated on different projects. During the lockdown, we wanted to find a way of staying inspired and progressing our creative practises so we started sending each other poems and music to respond to. We are interested in cross-disciplinary discourse and believe that everyone has their own creative languages and it is when these disparate languages are brought together that the most dynamic and truthful stories are told. This piece is part of a series that we have been working on entitled Children’s Stories For Children In Their Twenties. Due to the Corna virus, many young people have lost their jobs and have had to move back to their family home. There is a feeling that we have been forced to regress to childhood. However, our work aims to show that development isn’t linear, and there is a lot to be learnt from that imaginative space of childhood. Kia’s writing takes inspiration from magical realism writers such as Isabel Allende and Gabriel García Márquez and Miles takes significant influence from 1970’s Jamaican dub and 20th Century European noise composers. For this piece, he attempted to create musical accompaniment that would capture the stylistic traits of artists such as Hugh La Caine, King Tubby and Scientist (Hopeton Overton Brown), whilst reflecting the sensitivities expressed in Kia’s vocal performance. We hope that our work synthesises our influences to create something uniquely our own."
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => 2nd prize, Collaborative Challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
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[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21389
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Kia Matanky-Becker and Miles Simpson
[slug] => kia-matanky-becker-and-miles-simpson
[content] => Kia and Miles are the second-prize winners in the collaborative challenge on Young Poets Network, with their music and poetry piece 'cassie and the flood'.
)
)
[2] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21398
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2021-01-29 11:53:59
[post_date_gmt] => 2021-01-29 11:53:59
[post_content] => [audio m4a="https://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/Lauren-Lisk-Wings.m4a"][/audio]
(Chords: A, B, C#, E)
I could never meet your expectations
Always out of reach
Never gave me an explanation
I could never be free
Clip my wings so I can’t fly
Tear my down every time I try
I know I could never be in her place
When I needed you you just wanted space
But you could have built me higher
You could have made a fighter out of me
But I fall and hit the ground again
I can’t stand tall I’m left not believing
no stars in the sky
I won’t even try
Cos I know I’m not good enough
Now you got the better of me
Cos I’m left all alone in this darkness
When all that I do is make a mess of things
But I’m trying trying trying hard to spread my wings
I could never get further
Away from your touch
Then I stopped reminding myself
I was enough
Scarred me deeper as I grew
Took away what I once knew
I know I could never be alone
Now you’ve gone and left me all on my own
You know you built me higher
And took all of the fighter out of me
Chorus
But I’m trying hard to not rely on those eyes
To be myself even if it means I’m hurting inside
Cos I thought that I had lost myself in you
Am I better now play this game/
I can’t do this anymore
This waiting for you to call
I can’t come and pretend I’m okay
I can’t give my heart away
To you for you to break
I can’t play this game
Chorus
Outro
But I’m trying, (trying, trying)
To spread my wings (to spread my wings)
To spread my wings (to spread my wings)
[post_title] => Wings
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
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[post_name] => wings
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[post_modified] => 2021-02-01 10:43:16
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[wpcf-date-published] => 2021
[wpcf-summary-description] => This song is the third-prize winner of the Collaborative Challenge on Young Poets Network in 2021.
Lauren and Simran say, “We met in Year 7 when we both started secondary school, and have been close friends ever since.
When collaborating, we both worked on the melody and lyrics of our song. After we had decided what chord progression we were going to use, we each composed different sections of the song, writing both the melody and lyrics. Then, we played our compositions to each other, and we made any small changes that could improve the sections we had written. After putting together all the sections, the song was starting to come together. We both had a go at writing a bridge, and when we couldn’t decide which one to use, we realised that it would be much more effective to sing both parts on top of each other. Once we had figured out the outline of the song and worked out the verses and chorus, we added harmonies by ear to add texture. We composed with only a piano and decided to keep the accompaniment simple, with just a chord accompaniment and a repeated riff that plays throughout the song on the piano.
‘Wings’ for us, is all about feeling like you need to please others over yourself, and putting other people first. We didn’t write it about a single experience but rather about how it feels to lose your confidence when others try to knock you down, and the journey of finding and reconnecting with yourself again. The song really flowed out of the both of us and we had so much fun writing it and experimenting with the vocals on the track; we hope you enjoy!”
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => 3rd prize, Collaborative Challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21399
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Lauren Lisk and Simran Misir
[slug] => lauren-lisk-and-simran-misir
[content] => Lauren and Simran are the third-prize winners in the collaborative challenge on Young Poets Network, with their song 'Wings'.
)
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[3] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21406
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2021-01-29 11:53:56
[post_date_gmt] => 2021-01-29 11:53:56
[post_content] => Contains strong languageDownload a screen-reader friendly version of this zine
[post_title] => Bad Vibes Only
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => bad-vibes-only
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2021-01-29 12:02:37
[post_modified_gmt] => 2021-01-29 12:02:37
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[wpcf-published-in] =>
[wpcf-date-published] => 2021
[wpcf-summary-description] => This zine is commended in the Collaborative Challenge on Young Poets Network in 2021. Through poetry and photocollage, it explores themes of coming of age, yearning, Gen Z and chaos.
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, Collaborative Challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21405
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Libby Russell, Emily Fletcher, Celia Mostachfi and Lydia Wei
[slug] => libby-russell-emily-fletcher-celia-mostachfi-and-lydia-wei
[content] => The writers and artists in group are commended in the collaborative challenge on Young Poets Network, with their zine Bad Vibes Only.
)
)
[4] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21413
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2021-01-29 11:53:53
[post_date_gmt] => 2021-01-29 11:53:53
[post_content] => https://youtu.be/59xmEgxX4fE
[post_title] => The perfect caress has a velocity of three centimetres per second
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => the-perfect-caress-has-a-velocity-of-three-centimetres-per-second
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[post_modified] => 2021-01-29 11:53:53
[post_modified_gmt] => 2021-01-29 11:53:53
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[wpcf-date-published] => 2021
[wpcf-summary-description] => This piece is commended in the Collaborative Challenge on Young Poets Network in 2021.
Jack writes, "I think successful collaboration comes down to trust: trust in your partner's skill and creativity, in how they mold and adapt your shared vision. There's certainly no-one I trust more than flautist Daniel Shao, an associate member of the Philharmonia Orchestra, freelancer with London Symphony Orchestra, member of the Tangram artist collective, and my boyfriend of five years. We collaborated on this piece during lockdown, recording (and re-recording) our audio separately in London and Coventry. The poem was inspired by many things, but Daniel most of all, so I'm very happy we got to make something of it together."
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, Collaborative Challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21414
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Jack Cooper and Daniel Shao
[slug] => jack-cooper-and-daniel-shao
[content] => Jack and Daniel are commended in the collaborative challenge on Young Poets Network, with their piece of music and poetry, 'The perfect caress has a velocity of three centimetres per second'.
)
)
[5] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21412
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2021-01-29 11:53:47
[post_date_gmt] => 2021-01-29 11:53:47
[post_content] => Contains strong languageDownload a screen-reader friendly version
[post_title] => Confession
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => confession-3
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2021-01-29 14:30:25
[post_modified_gmt] => 2021-01-29 14:30:25
[post_content_filtered] =>
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[wpcf-published-in] =>
[wpcf-date-published] => 2021
[wpcf-summary-description] => This collaborative poetry and collage piece is commended in the Collaborative Challenge on Young Poets Network in 2021.
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, Collaborative Challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21416
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Priya Abularach and Hannah Beitchman
[slug] => priya-abularach-and-hannah-beitchman
[content] => Priya and Hannah are commended in the Collaborative Challenge on Young Poets Network, with their poetry/collage piece Confession.
)
)
[6] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21410
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2021-01-29 11:53:43
[post_date_gmt] => 2021-01-29 11:53:43
[post_content] => Contains strong languageDownload A Tale of Two Counties (zine)
[post_title] => A Tale of Two Counties
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => a-tale-of-two-counties
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2021-01-29 11:59:29
[post_modified_gmt] => 2021-01-29 11:59:29
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[wpcf-date-published] => 2021
[wpcf-summary-description] => This zine is commended in the Collaborative Challenge on Young Poets Network in 2021.
Ellora says, "This zine was Hannah’s idea. We’re both very much children of Young Poets Network, we found each other through it, and when there was a challenge on collaborative work, it seemed perfect. Through it, I’ve written two new poems (‘Love Poem in Gold’ and ‘Shoes for Giselle’) that I never would have written before, and I’ve gotten to read two new stunning poems (‘Extracting Residual Stardust’ and ‘Signing Consent for a Heart Procedure’) from Hannah. The ‘White Space’ and ‘Take Note’ poems are from previous YPN challenges in which we were both winners. I think they all, though, speak in some way to what we’re going through now, from the minutiae of everyday life to the medical to straight-up love. There is always love."
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, Collaborative Challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21408
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Ellora Sutton and Hannah Hodgson
[slug] => ellora-sutton-and-hannah-hodgson
[content] => Ellora and Hannah are commended in the collaborative challenge on Young Poets Network, with their zine A Tale of Two Counties.
)
)
[7] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21419
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2021-01-29 11:53:38
[post_date_gmt] => 2021-01-29 11:53:38
[post_content] => Download Mushroom Garden (zine)
[post_title] => Mushroom Garden
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => mushroom-garden
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[post_modified] => 2021-01-29 14:34:48
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[wpcf-date-published] => 2021
[wpcf-summary-description] => This zine piece is commended in the Collaborative Challenge on Young Poets Network in 2021.
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, Collaborative Challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21421
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => GM Kuhn and SZ Shao
[slug] => gm-kuhn-sz-shao
[content] => GM Kuhn and SZ Shao are commended in the Collaborative Challenge on Young Poets Network, with their zine Mushroom Garden.
)
)
[8] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21384
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2021-01-27 09:07:58
[post_date_gmt] => 2021-01-27 09:07:58
[post_content] => for Chioma Ubogagu
Good God! Watch her, how she
swallows the crowd-song,
how boldly she strikes
the pitch’s borders with her
toes, warping the white lines, the
way she knows to reduce each sun
in the stadium lights to a ball,
how she kicks into the
midst of each fiery fist like
she can’t resist
insisting her way round a
pitch, face gleaming
like the end of a match.
[post_title] => She strikes the ball like a match
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => she-strikes-the-ball-like-a-match
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2021-01-27 09:08:06
[post_modified_gmt] => 2021-01-27 09:08:06
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[wpcf-published-in] =>
[wpcf-date-published] => 2018
[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem was written in a workshop run as part of Young Poets Network and Thinking Outside the Penalty Box's partnership in 2018, for poems inspired by African football players. Find out more about the project here, and read the full anthology of poems for free here.
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] =>
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 18167
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Cia Mangat
[slug] => cia-mangat
[content] => Cia is a top 15 winner in the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2019, as well as a top 15 winner in 2017 and 2018, and was a commended Foyle Young Poet in 2016. She is also a commended poet in the meme challenge, written and judged by poet Rishi Dastidar, on Young Poets Network; is commended in the Riddle Me This poetry challenge; and is a runner-up in the BBC Proms Poetry Competition 2017.
)
)
[9] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21271
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-12-04 13:00:19
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-12-04 13:00:19
[post_content] =>
[post_title] => disappearing from victoria before the fire alert hits catastrophic
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
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[post_name] => disappearing-from-victoria-before-the-fire-alert-hits-catastrophic
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[post_modified] => 2020-12-04 13:00:05
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[wpcf-date-published] => 2020
[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the first-prize winner of the People Need Nature challenge, set and judged by Gboyega Odubanjo on Young Poets Network in 2020.
April Egan writes about her winning poem: “I grew up in Australia. In January, I saw it consumed by fire while I was cold and stagnant on the Jurassic Coast. Fires were something we were used to, and they were almost never serious enough to make international news – and now it was all anybody spoke about. Gippsland, Bendigo, Mornington, the places I hadn’t mentioned by name for years and kept like special secrets to myself were now being discussed by my classmates. It was like a funeral for a person they’d only half-known and one I’d loved entirely. I don’t tend to write about nature, but as I did, I felt both more sure in my national identity as an Australian and more connected to my experience of life. It is a love poem foremost, for the undefinable magic of Australia, its mystery and majesty, beyond dangerous fauna and endless heat, but also a poem of dread, of grief, and the precarious ether all balance on as summer approaches once more.”
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => 1st prize, People Need Nature challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 16674
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => April Egan
[slug] => april-egan
[content] => April was a commended Foyle Young Poet in 2020. She is the overall winner of the Agincourt 600 Poetry Competition in the secondary category, and is the first-prize winner of Gboyega Odubanjo's People Need Nature challenge on Young Poets Network in 2020. April is commended in the Poetry and Political Language Challenge, in partnership with the Orwell Youth Prize.
)
)
[10] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21272
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-12-04 12:59:16
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-12-04 12:59:16
[post_content] => Swift and agile
Sleek and prehensile –
Skittering across bark
And as dexterously over brick –
Squirrel.
The arch survivor –
A thief in woodland
A bandit of suburbia,
Beautiful peanut pirate.
You skim the rigging of
Rotary washing lines
And old telephone wires:
Your sail-tail
A Spinnaker of balance –
A back garden acrobat.
Grey down of fur covers
The machine of sinew
Tendons tight
Like bowstrings
Wired to shoot across
Fence top,
Gate post, sign post,
Post box – post haste.
The highwayman of the high street,
Terror of the terraces
Ply your profession –
Livelihood in the manmade Landscape.
A narrow escape
With a clutch of grapes
Hijacked from garden vine
Jam-packed with sweet juice.
You make a getaway
Into ornamental spruce
Where you have your hideaway.
[post_title] => Squirrel
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => squirrel
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[post_modified] => 2020-12-04 12:59:53
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[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the second-prize winner of the People Need Nature challenge, set and judged by Gboyega Odubanjo on Young Poets Network in 2020.
Finn writes about their poem: “I am really happy but can’t believe it. I wrote the poem because I’m in a creative Writing Club at my school. Ms Kibbler sets us challenges every week to get us writing. We can do it if we want and sometimes it’s fun, otherwise we can leave it. I like playing with words and using a thesaurus and I like playing with sounds – not rhymes so much, but repeating sounds and the way it makes rhythms. I’ve been watching squirrels in the garden since the start of Autumn. I love animals and they are very entertaining. I thought about squirrels when I saw Ms Kibbler put up the competition about Nature in our writing club for us to have a go at.”
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => 2nd prize, People Need Nature challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21304
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Finn Farnsworth
[slug] => finn-farnsworth
[content] => Finn is the second-prize winner of Gboyega Odubanjo's People Need Nature challenge on Young Poets Network in 2020.
)
)
[11] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21273
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-12-04 12:59:15
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-12-04 12:59:15
[post_content] => In Portland we don’t use the word, we dance around it – furry things, we’d say, the furry things are in backfield again. As a child I only knew I should never look directly at them, the same way I knew not to look at the sun. It was wrong. It would hurt later on. My grandfather called them underground mutton – the first time I heard the phrase I laughed, and he didn’t. I guess that means it’s okay to eat them. That it’s okay to roast and spit them but never see them. As an adult I learnt the fear behind the superstition – my home is always on the brink of slipping, because long ago we built mines where we shouldn’t. And, like always, nature far outshone the humans: the furry things would run before the rockfalls, the men would disappear beneath them. So when they skipped in fields en masse, bobtails flashing, we would know that somewhere below ground people were trapped, were crushed, were suffocating. We would know that when the underground mutton set to dancing, the Earth was eating the miners.
[post_title] => [Rabbit]
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
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[post_name] => rabbit
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[post_modified] => 2020-12-04 16:21:55
[post_modified_gmt] => 2020-12-04 16:21:55
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[wpcf-date-published] => 2020
[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the third-prize winner of the People Need Nature challenge, set and judged by Gboyega Odubanjo on Young Poets Network in 2020.
Amy writes about her winning poem: “Growing up in the middle of nowhere in Dorset gave me a deep appreciation of nature, and many of my poems are inspired by the beauty and history of my home county. The inspiration for this particular poem came from Portland, where there is an amusing and moving old superstition around the word “rabbit”. Being able to bring a little bit of local colour to a wider audience is amazing, which is why I was delighted that my poem was chosen for publication in the People Need Nature challenge.”
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => 3rd prize, People Need Nature challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
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[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 17073
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Amy Wolstenholme
[slug] => amy-wolstenholme
[content] => Amy is the first prize winner in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2016 and commended in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2019 on Young Poets Network. She is the first prize winner in August challenge #1 on photographic poetry, written and judged by Foyle Young Poet Andrew Pettigrew in 2019; and the second prize winner in August challenge #3 on meta-poetry, written and judged by Foyle Young Poet Danique Bailey in 2019. She is also the second prize winner in Gboyega Odubanjo's People Need Nature challenge on Young Poets Network in 2020. She is the third prize winner in the Who is Giselle? poetry challenge, and a winner in the Ways to be Wilder Poetry Challenge, in association with People Need Nature. Amy is also commended in the Bletchley Park challenge judged by So Mayer; the moon poetry challenge, judged by Nii Parkes; and in August challenge #4 on the poetics of interrogation, written and judged by Foyle Young Poet Kara Jackson in 2019.
)
)
[12] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21274
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-12-04 12:59:13
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-12-04 12:59:13
[post_content] => A sunlight-mottled river shunts its weight
Towards the sea, having nowhere else to go;
Even the evening’s syrupy light can’t glaze it
Into something pretty. The days are slow,
So I come back often to this crease in the city’s palm,
Where you might see a rabbit stare from the gorse
Then vanish as quick to its deep, unseeable home,
Like a coin you’ve slipped between the floorboards.
My sadness is small amongst the river’s slithering moods
Where nothing means except the thought-clean flow
Of browns and greens and occasional newspaper shreds
And dragonflies ruffling the water where they flew.
Hollow redbrick warehouses discuss themselves,
Towering and useless, lit up by the low-hanging sun,
The windows shimmering pockets of gold like scales.
They used to make leather, or seatbelts, or chewing gum.
Above me, the cars glide quietly across a bridge.
They’re small enough to hold, up there near the moon.
Here at the river’s slow, unglistening edge
Where nobody knows me at all, I’m clean as a bone.
[post_title] => In Praise of Desolation
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => in-praise-of-desolation
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[post_modified] => 2020-12-04 12:59:13
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[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is commended in the People Need Nature challenge, set and judged by Gboyega Odubanjo on Young Poets Network in 2020.
William writes about his poem: “This poem came from walking down to a river near where I live in Bristol one evening. It is quite a muddy river, surrounded by abandoned, graffitied buildings; hardly sublime or poetic, but something about that ‘depressing’ environment was also uplifting, because I felt like a lone explorer in that moment, even with other people dotted about. The abandoned buildings and the flowing river also seemed to suggest some bigger picture beyond myself.”
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, People Need Nature challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 19561
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => William Snelling
[slug] => william-snelling
[content] => William is commended in Gboyega Odubanjo's People Need Nature challenge on Young Poets Network in 2020 and the 2019 poetry translation challenge with Modern Poetry in Translation, judged by Clare Pollard. He is also the third-prize winner of the 2018 August Challenge #1 on prose poems on Young Poets Network and is commended in the Golden Shovel challenge, judged by Peter Kahn.
)
)
[13] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21275
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-12-04 12:59:10
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-12-04 12:59:10
[post_content] => Contains strong language
next to the vineyard tree pub extra
ordinaire free gravy on the side
with all chips and running down
the carvery yellow walls as brown
shadow coats rusted telephone poles
in something pretty home of the famous
hooke team their sweaty shins and boys
crying after hours behind the mccoll’s
dogs pissing up the side like a height chart
mark their land on the Leading Neighbour
hood Retailer of fizzedup stella-
green glass and exploding instant
barbecue sets
the boys chug lucozade spiked
with their fathers’ eyes wide whites
screaming go on, son! from the side
lines as a boy with flush fresh head
boyteacherpleasinggirlfondlingbuttkiss
ing cheeks thrusts a knee into son’s
groin twisting to the others’ cheers
he holds victory arms straight
out like the parked audi’s dang
ling crucifix wooden jesus grinning
after the game of his life.
[post_title] => watching the match at the field on berkeley road
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
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[post_name] => watching-the-match-at-the-field-on-berkeley-road
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[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, People Need Nature challenge
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[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 18437
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Natalie Perman
[slug] => natalie-perman
[content] => A top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2017 and commended in the 2018 Award, Natalie is also the first-prize winner in the Civilisation and Its Discontents challenge on Young Poets Network, inspired by Freud's work of the same name; and the first-prize winner in the first Bloodaxe Archive challenge, The Poetics of the Archive.
She is additionally the third-prize winner in the Thinking Outside the Penalty Box challenge; commended in Gboyega Odubanjo's People Need Nature challenge; commended in Ankita Saxena’s protest poetry challenge, remembering 100 years of the women’s vote in the UK; and commended in the tree poetry challenge.
)
)
[14] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21277
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-12-04 12:59:08
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-12-04 12:59:08
[post_content] => Leaves falling through my open window,
I hear thorn bushes rustling in the wind.
I see trees dropping apples,
Birds rustling their way through the thick branches
To reach their nests.
Eagles swooping down on my house,
Searching for rats.
Horses running from the barn.
I hear the sudden noises of the cows mooing,
Ants marching through the muddy ground.
I hear the pigs rolling in the mud.
I see the grass swaying in the wind.
I hear the cars zooming past.
[post_title] => At The Farm
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => at-the-farm
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2020-12-15 14:05:01
[post_modified_gmt] => 2020-12-15 14:05:01
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[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is commended in the People Need Nature challenge, set and judged by Gboyega Odubanjo on Young Poets Network in 2020.
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, People Need Nature challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 20093
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Max Dixon
[slug] => max-dixon-2
[content] => Max is the third-prize winner in the moon poetry challenge on Young Poets Network, judged by Nii Parkes, and is commended in Gboyega Odubanjo's People Need Nature challenge in 2020.
)
)
[15] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21279
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-12-04 12:59:07
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-12-04 12:59:07
[post_content] => They were here when I arrived;
decadent strata of spots
in rich orange, red, and green,
a pointillist Zhangye Danxia
on the ceiling of my student en-suite.
I tried to kill them, but they came back,
appearing out of nowhere
like an absurd flash mob
so I shower each morning
under a hundred spiteful sunrises,
a firework display
exploding in slow motion.
[post_title] => Mould
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
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[post_name] => mould
[to_ping] =>
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[wpcf-date-published] => 2020
[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is commended in the People Need Nature challenge, set and judged by Gboyega Odubanjo on Young Poets Network in 2020.
Jack writes about his poem: “This challenge genuinely pushed me to write about something I’d never have written otherwise. I’ve never had much interest in the countryside or wildlife, but I realised a few weeks into lockdown that I’d been taking the nature around me for granted. Isolated in my student room for much of spring and summer, I was grateful for what little I could see: the saplings in my accommodation’s courtyard, the woad filling Coventry council flowerbeds (the plant responsible for the city’s famous 12th century blue cloth), and even mould. Poetry thrives in precision and perseverance, it grows from places you never expected. What better subject for a poem than the meticulously arranged, seemingly immortal mould in my en-suite?”
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, People Need Nature challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 19742
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Jack Cooper
[slug] => jack-cooper
[content] => Jack is the first-prize winner of the second Bloodaxe Archive challenge on Young Poets Network, about White Space. He is the second-prize winner of the Ode to (Small) Joy challenge, and the third-prize winner of the Carol Ann Duffy challenge and the nonsense poetry challenge.
Jack is commended in Gboyega Odubanjo's People Need Nature challenge, the Climate Crisis and You challenge, the Bletchley Park challenge, the moon poetry challenge, the Mary Wollstonecraft challenge, the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2019 and August challenge #3 on meta-poetry.
)
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[16] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21278
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-12-04 12:59:06
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-12-04 12:59:06
[post_content] => walking down the side
of my house, i count
the number of steps
it takes to cross
this white field of pebbles.
for months, i could not
touch the world. i only knew it
through the window
in my room. now
the wind bounds past me
like a dog. someone
has overturned a stone
in the backyard.
the vines are crawling
over the summer-
tanned fence again,
and every day i feel
less romantic.
[post_title] => Transformation
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => transformation
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2020-12-21 09:40:01
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[wpcf-date-published] => 2020
[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is commended in the People Need Nature challenge, set and judged by Gboyega Odubanjo on Young Poets Network in 2020.
Grace writes about her poem: “I’m honored and thrilled that my poem was commended in the People Need Nature challenge. My experience writing this poem, as with other poems I write, was very difficult, especially because I don’t normally write nature poems. I sat at my desk and looked out the window for the longest time, noticing how everything had changed since I last studied the world so intensely many months ago. This challenge definitely pushed me out of my comfort zone, and I’m grateful for this opportunity.”
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, People Need Nature challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21315
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Grace Q. Song
[slug] => grace-q-song
[content] => Grace is commended in Gboyega Odubanjo's People Need Nature challenge on Young Poets Network in 2020.
)
)
[17] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21276
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-12-04 12:59:02
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-12-04 12:59:02
[post_content] => man heaves up stairs
man pauses on step seventy-two
man spits a prayer
man ascends
man gropes doorway
man forgets keys
man forgets keys in back pocket
man pushes through
man finds air
man plunges onto rails
man seeks the bars
man has cold cheeks
man catches a cloud
man lets it go
man plucks a green daisy
man counts his loves
man runs out of petals
man coughs and sits
man gets wet arse
man almost laughs
man makes tiny receipt plane
man won't let it fly
man looks at his petals
man looks at plane
man drops plane
man opens eyes
man finds world staring back
[post_title] => myopic man
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => myopic-man
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
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[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is commended in the People Need Nature challenge, set and judged by Gboyega Odubanjo on Young Poets Network in 2020.
chenrui writes about her poem: “I think Covid has revealed a lot about what drives the human being and, given the crowded parks and sold out reservoir tickets, nature has not lost her grip. We have a lot to learn from Nature. We need it more than we think.”
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, People Need Nature challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
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[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21312
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => chenrui
[slug] => chenrui
[content] => chenrui is commended in Gboyega Odubanjo's People Need Nature challenge on Young Poets Network in 2020.
)
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[18] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21244
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-11-03 17:17:22
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-11-03 17:17:22
[post_content] => A Golden Shovel
[post_title] => I Lost My Innocence in a Hospital Room, and No-One Handed It in
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => i-lost-my-innocence-in-a-hospital-room-and-no-one-handed-it-in
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2020-11-06 16:29:27
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[wpcf-published-in] =>
[wpcf-date-published] => 2020
[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the first-prize winner of the Poetry and Political Language Challenge on Young Poets Network, in partnership with the Orwell Youth Prize in 2020.
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => 1st prize, Poetry and Political Language Challenge
[wpcf_pr_belongs] =>
)
[poet_data] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 16852
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Hannah Hodgson
[slug] => hannah-hodgson
[content] => Hannah is the first prize winner in the Poetry and Political Language Challenge on Young Poets Network, in partnership with the Orwell Youth Prize. She is the second prize winner in the second Bloodaxe Archive challenge, about White Space, and is commended in the fourth Bloodaxe Archive challenge, Take Note. She is also the second prize winner in the 19-25 age category in the Turn Up the Volume challenge.
Hannah is additionally a winner in the 2016 Young Poets Network August Challenge #2, as well as a commended poet in August Challenges #1 and #4. She is also a winner in the 2016 Behind the Curtain poetry challenge, in partnership with the V&A Museum, and the winner of the 2016 Even It Up Poetry Challenge in the 15-18 age category.
)
)
[19] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21253
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-11-03 17:17:19
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-11-03 17:17:19
[post_content] =>
[post_title] => IN WHICH PAPA (A SAILOR) GOES DEAF
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
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[post_password] =>
[post_name] => in-which-papa-a-sailor-goes-deaf
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[wpcf-date-published] => 2020
[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the second-prize winner of the Poetry and Political Language Challenge on Young Poets Network, in partnership with the Orwell Youth Prize in 2020.
This poem incorporates language from the British Columbia Workers Compensation Act.
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => 2nd prize, Poetry and Political Language Challenge
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[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Irma Kiss Barath
[slug] => irma-kiss-barath
[content] => Irma is the second-prize winner in the Poetry and Political Language Challenge on Young Poets Network, in partnership with the Orwell Youth Prize. Irma is also commended in August Challenge #1: Re-mixing History, Fiction and the Unexpected.
)
)
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[post_date] => 2020-11-03 17:17:15
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[post_content] =>
[post_title] => Through the Lens of @realDonaldTrump: A Decade of Twitter Politics
[post_excerpt] =>
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[post_name] => through-the-lens-of-realdonaldtrump-a-decade-of-twitter-politics
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[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Divya Mehrish
[slug] => divya-mehrish
[content] => Divya was a commended Foyle Young Poet in 2018. She is the third-prize winner in the Poetry and Political Language Challenge on Young Poets Network, in partnership with the Orwell Youth Prize. She is commended in the 2020 poetry translation challenge with Modern Poetry in Translation, judged by Clare Pollard; and in August Challenge #2: Fairy Tale Poetry. She was longlisted in the 2019 National Poetry Competition and in the 2020 Art to Poetry challenge.
)
)
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[post_date] => 2020-11-03 17:17:04
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-11-03 17:17:04
[post_content] => the end times in numbers:
4 horsemen
1 cancelled judgement day
1 giant rip through the sky
1 ocean brimming with plastic
1 people at risk
remember self-care!
pumice from the endless eruptions is
effective on dry arms. steaming pyres
also have a cleansing effect on skin,
if you have any left. have a blackout
bath and hear the voice of the dark
as if you were again an unborn thing.
you did not fear before your beginning
so why do you fear the end?
check in with your friends!
stay within your personal exclusion
zone - obviously, texting is not possible
since it fell into the hands of the lord
bezos, praise and fear his name. say
their glowing hue is lovely, it so
matches the new gucci révélation.
say the new fully devil-free charts
have some real bangers.
make a tiktok to the geiger remix
tangle into each other as the ash wind
makes you a ribbon of love once more.
accept the new normal!
obviously, this is a transient thing.
you will remember what it was like
to be a sitcom character. walk in
to applause, gesticulate and never
wear that skin and event again. you
will once more have your eyes kissed
and everything will stay. you will not
again think I didn’t want to die so ugly.
you will think what am I having for dinner?
you will wake up and it will be over.
choose to unlearn!
stand outside and let the earth happen
do not think so far away you might be
walking home. do not think of the
obnoxious summer sky. unlearn how to
be loved. unlearn your mother, unlearn
how to speak. unlearn sleeping in your
childhood. unlearn your own body. you
are holding onto a thread the teeth
of big government are desperate to snag.
unlearn the sound of moving. unlearn
that the sky was once blue. it will only
hurt more to know things were once definite.
hold yourself accountable!
don’t slip. it’s your choice to wake up and
dm @famine838 to hold you. ask what he
could ever do to fill you. do not say his
horse, by the red light of pre-curfew,
looks just like an angel. you can’t help
the zuckerberg-kardashian war, but
you voted in the instagram poll. hold
yourself accountable because it is the
only way to be held. you are responsible
for the wanting to be loved. if you are
still pining after the ban on unauthorised
longing for something unexplainable -
it’s on you sis.
stay safe!
[post_title] => so you want to talk about the ap*calypse
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => so-you-want-to-talk-about-the-apcalypse
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[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2020-12-04 12:24:45
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[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => April Egan
[slug] => april-egan
[content] => April was a commended Foyle Young Poet in 2020. She is the overall winner of the Agincourt 600 Poetry Competition in the secondary category, and is the first-prize winner of Gboyega Odubanjo's People Need Nature challenge on Young Poets Network in 2020. April is commended in the Poetry and Political Language Challenge, in partnership with the Orwell Youth Prize.
)
)
[22] => stdClass Object
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[post_date] => 2020-11-03 17:17:01
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-11-03 17:17:01
[post_content] => after Kate Bingham
I learnt that words don’t mean anything,
That your hands do all the talking.
I learnt that you don’t always have to tell the truth
And I learnt that there’s always a loophole
To weasel your way through.
I learnt how to take offence at an inanimate object
And how to play top trumps.
I learnt how to get away with not firing your friend,
How to talk about something
While saying nothing,
And I learnt how to confuse a lot of people
With an eighteenth century sewing expression.
[post_title] => What I Learnt from Reading the News
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => what-i-learnt-from-reading-the-news
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[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2020-11-04 10:27:01
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[wpcf-rights-information] =>
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[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21262
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Hannah Aston
[slug] => hannah-aston
[content] => Hannah is commended in the Poetry and Political Language Challenge on Young Poets Network, in partnership with the Orwell Youth Prize.
)
)
[23] => stdClass Object
(
[ID] => 21259
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-11-03 17:16:59
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-11-03 17:16:59
[post_content] => there are worse things to be. i could be,
for instance, dying, or alive, but just
enough to be taking up space. i could wade
through a body that does not belong
to me. yes, i could ravage, rumble,
sour your milk, bite your children, poison
your evening news. i could enlist
my grandparents to waste like a disease
among the rubble, steam rising
foreign and filthy through the aftershocks.
or (gasp): i could cough.
yes, there are worse things to be
than a disruption: the way a country shudders
in the aftershocks of an enemy
so fragile our fathers call it china.
the way our grandparents’ mouths
already look too much like a wound.
the way people still waste their teeth
trying to chase us into hiding in the sands.
[post_title] => someone calls me the c word and i respond
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => someone-calls-me-the-c-word-and-i-respond
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2020-11-03 17:16:59
[post_modified_gmt] => 2020-11-03 17:16:59
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[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, Poetry and Political Language Challenge
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[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Emma Chan
[slug] => emma-chan
[content] => Emma is commended in the Poetry and Political Language Challenge on Young Poets Network, in partnership with the Orwell Youth Prize.
)
)
[24] => stdClass Object
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[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-10-13 12:09:17
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-10-13 12:09:17
[post_content] =>
[post_title] => In My Wallet
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => in-my-wallet
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2020-10-13 12:11:10
[post_modified_gmt] => 2020-10-13 12:11:10
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[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the first-prize winner of August Challenge #4: The Spoken Word Challenge on Young Poets Network. This challenge was set and judged by Foyle Young Poet Rian Paton in 2020.
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => 1st prize, August Challenge #4: The Spoken Word Challenge
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[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 13719
[forename] => Oluwaseun
[surname] => Matiluko
[title] => Seun Matiluko
[slug] => oluwaseun-matiluko
[content] => Seun Matiluko is the first-prize winner in August challenge #4: The Spoken Word Challenge on Young Poets Network. She is also a winner in the Hollywood remake poetry challenge.
)
)
[25] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21198
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-10-13 12:09:14
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-10-13 12:09:14
[post_content] => Content warning: grief
[post_title] => How to Flirt at Your Best Friend's Funeral
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => how-to-flirt-at-your-best-friends-funeral
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2020-10-13 12:31:36
[post_modified_gmt] => 2020-10-13 12:31:36
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[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => 2nd prize, August Challenge #4: The Spoken Word Challenge
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[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21202
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Jessica Yu
[slug] => jessica-yu
[content] => Jessica is the second-prize winner in August challenge #4: The Spoken Word Challenge on Young Poets Network.
)
)
[26] => stdClass Object
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[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-10-13 12:09:12
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-10-13 12:09:12
[post_content] => Content warning: rape
[post_title] => Semantics
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
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[post_name] => semantics
[to_ping] =>
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[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => 3rd prize, August Challenge #4: The Spoken Word Challenge
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[poet_data] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21201
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Evelyn Blythe
[slug] => evelyn-blythe
[content] => Evelyn Blythe is the third-prize winner in August Challenge #4: The Spoken Word Challenge on Young Poets Network.
)
)
[27] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21165
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-10-05 11:22:56
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-10-05 11:22:56
[post_content] => this is the moment skeletons became atheists. gold lodged in the back of
throats and stuck, rigor mortis like you never had a chance. and maybe
the soup tastes like corpses,
or maybe the soup tastes like god. or like angels, and
cracks in the barbed wire. because skeleton is a synonym for survivor,
in other words, you are the last one standing, in other words,
where is your body? today the soup tastes
like dirt, a fire, the only thing stronger than hatred, a fire, the only thing
stronger than railroad tracks, a fire,
madness, a fire, family, a fire. if it is a delusion to think this sculpture
hasn’t dried yet,
this clay hasn’t been consumed, broken glass or crowbars,
does that make faith strong enough to convince yourself?
does that make remorse strong enough to forgive yourself? is there
anything
to forgive yourself for, a can of worms. hope, a fire, the warm kind.
soup is thicker today.
the bombs are bright in the sky. they look like stars.
[post_title] => in response to eliezer wiesel's night
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => in-response-to-eliezer-wiesels-night
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2020-10-05 15:19:49
[post_modified_gmt] => 2020-10-05 15:19:49
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[wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is the first-prize winner of August Challenge #3: Repetition & Imagery on Young Poets Network. This challenge was set and judged by Foyle Young Poet Ife Olatona in 2020.
[wpcf-rights-information] =>
[wpcf-poem-award] => 1st prize, August Challenge #3: Repetition & Imagery
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[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Jasmine Kapadia
[slug] => jasmine-kapadia
[content] => Jasmine is the first-prize winner of August Challenge #3: Repetition & Imagery on Young Poets Network.
)
)
[28] => stdClass Object
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[ID] => 21164
[post_author] => 23
[post_date] => 2020-10-05 11:20:00
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-10-05 11:20:00
[post_content] => The sky reddening like an unbruised body—
and you, gone for days now, calcified
in this unshed nightmare where the tiger
is closing its teeth over your wrist again,
dozens of rabbit carcasses littering the halls again,
tiger slipping quiet through the nights,
mattress blood-heavy and the bedroom splintering,
the mirrors washed red, the pillows full of twigs,
the pawprints varnishing dinner plates,
tiger thrashing in the softness of your mind,
scarlet nails uncovering orifice, devouring
gentler beasts and pretty things,
tiger that won’t retreat until the hunt
leaves you on your knees—the house ablaze
behind you, your hands bleeding and hungry in the dirt,
searching for solace.
And everything’s gone swollen in your mouth:
flecks of copper at the bathtub floor, the smaller animals
you chew up like medicine. The world turned unfeeling,
astringent like the way a girl washes ashore
with her heels worn to the bone,
the mothers bent double over their children
lying empty in the street. You want
to feel blood again; romantic you once were,
you pack every aperture with wildflowers
and chase after carnivorous birds, let them tear away
at sapless skin. You cut off your fingers
and cast them into the wind:
send them adrift towards drowned seedlings,
towards the blackbirds
that weep at daybreak, the mountain
that has forgotten its name. One day,
you try to swallow the ocean,
but tumble head-first into the many mouths
of your own terror—unwavering in honesty,
the moon peels the water from its shores
and undresses your fear of everything.
And so, blue-lipped and quivering,
you pick the sharpest knives from the kitchen drawer
and keep them in your jewelry box,
metal against metal like a snare. Suck the blood
from your wounds each night
and let it thaw on your tongue like a prayer.
Huntress in bedlam, you track the tiger through
darkness and pin it to bathroom tile, sharpen a blade
against the sound of your screams
until the bleeding wrists,
the body dangling before starving teeth
become antiquities,
until the memory of your pain fades into the distance:
the fires in your bedroom window
waning against the skyline,
burning in echo of a self-inflicted disaster.
[post_title] => How to Kill a Tiger
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
[comment_status] => closed
[ping_status] => closed
[post_password] =>
[post_name] => how-to-kill-a-tiger
[to_ping] =>
[pinged] =>
[post_modified] => 2020-12-01 08:49:50
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[ID] => 21147
[forename] =>
[surname] =>
[title] => Annie Cao
[slug] => annie-cao
[content] => Annie is the first-prize winner of August Challenge #2: Fairy Tale Poetry and the second-prize winner of August Challenge #3: Repetition & Imagery on Young Poets Network.
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[29] => stdClass Object
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[post_date] => 2020-10-05 11:19:51
[post_date_gmt] => 2020-10-05 11:19:51
[post_content] => Somewhere out there is a statue of me
where my face isn’t as long, my sadness
shorter. I meet with her head-on. I tell her
to turn in the direction of the power ballads
and the attractive folks that sing them. I’ve just seena face, says Paul McCartney in the middle
of 1965, and I know for a fact that he is facing
the music of my heartbeat for no reason
other than to feel it. In 2020
my face falls off the face of the earth
and the water on Mars whacks my forehead,
then calls me back again and again
until like the waves I’m blue in the face,
falling constantly on top of my own skin.
Then I was looking out at that one white planet—
what’s its face?— staring out at the planet
that killed me. And I kept my chin up, armed myself
to the teeth, held my tongue, and kept my face so straight
that my breathing aligned with the stars.
[post_title] => get out of my face
[post_excerpt] =>
[post_status] => publish
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[ping_status] => closed
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[post_name] => get-out-of-my-face
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)
By Lydia Wei, Em Power, Adelina Rose Gowans, Sanjula Narayanan, Ann Dinh, Anne Rong, Carly Chan, Mae, Melissa Sibilla, Mica Pascual, Nina Joseph, Peach and Sherri Keys
Contains strong language Download a screen-reader friendly version of this zine
Cassie had creases in her cheeks, they were wrinkled like fingers that had spent too long in the bath; Cassie had a leak, she had a tearaway tear duct that was responsible for the flood, her clothes were soaked through, they stick to her skin like a wet suit. Every suit Cassie wore was […]
(Chords: A, B, C#, E) I could never meet your expectations Always out of reach Never gave me an explanation I could never be free Clip my wings so I can’t fly Tear my down every time I try I know I could never be in her place When I needed you you just […]
for Chioma Ubogagu Good God! Watch her, how she swallows the crowd-song, how boldly she strikes the pitch’s borders with her toes, warping the white lines, the way she knows to reduce each sun in the stadium lights to a ball, how she kicks into the midst of each fiery […]
Swift and agile Sleek and prehensile – Skittering across bark And as dexterously over brick – Squirrel. The arch survivor – A thief in woodland A bandit of suburbia, Beautiful peanut pirate. You skim the rigging of Rotary washing lines And old telephone wires: Your sail-tail A Spinnaker of balance – A back garden acrobat. […]
In Portland we don’t use the word, we dance around it – furry things, we’d say, the furry things are in backfield again. As a child I only knew I should never look directly at them, the same way I knew not to look at the sun. It was wrong. It would hurt later on. […]
A sunlight-mottled river shunts its weight Towards the sea, having nowhere else to go; Even the evening’s syrupy light can’t glaze it Into something pretty. The days are slow, So I come back often to this crease in the city’s palm, Where you might see a rabbit stare from the gorse Then vanish as quick […]
Contains strong language next to the vineyard tree pub extra ordinaire free gravy on the side with all chips and running down the carvery yellow walls as brown shadow coats rusted telephone poles in something pretty home of the famous hooke team their sweaty shins and boys crying after hours behind the mccoll’s dogs pissing […]
Leaves falling through my open window, I hear thorn bushes rustling in the wind. I see trees dropping apples, Birds rustling their way through the thick branches To reach their nests. Eagles swooping down on my house, Searching for rats. Horses running from the barn. I hear the sudden noises of the cows mooing, Ants […]
They were here when I arrived; decadent strata of spots in rich orange, red, and green, a pointillist Zhangye Danxia on the ceiling of my student en-suite. I tried to kill them, but they came back, appearing out of nowhere like an absurd flash mob so I shower each morning under a hundred spiteful […]
walking down the side of my house, i count the number of steps it takes to cross this white field of pebbles. for months, i could not touch the world. i only knew it through the window in my room. now the wind bounds past me like a dog. someone has overturned a stone in […]
man heaves up stairs man pauses on step seventy-two man spits a prayer man ascends man gropes doorway man forgets keys man forgets keys in back pocket man pushes through man finds air man plunges onto rails man seeks the bars man has cold cheeks man catches a cloud man lets it go man plucks […]
the end times in numbers: 4 horsemen 1 cancelled judgement day 1 giant rip through the sky 1 ocean brimming with plastic 1 people at risk remember self-care! pumice from the endless eruptions is effective on dry arms. steaming pyres also have a cleansing effect on skin, if you have any left. have a blackout […]
after Kate Bingham I learnt that words don’t mean anything, That your hands do all the talking. I learnt that you don’t always have to tell the truth And I learnt that there’s always a loophole To weasel your way through. I learnt how to take offence at an inanimate object And how to play […]
there are worse things to be. i could be, for instance, dying, or alive, but just enough to be taking up space. i could wade through a body that does not belong to me. yes, i could ravage, rumble, sour your milk, bite your children, poison your evening news. i could enlist my grandparents to […]
this is the moment skeletons became atheists. gold lodged in the back of throats and stuck, rigor mortis like you never had a chance. and maybe the soup tastes like corpses, or maybe the soup tastes like god. or like angels, and cracks in the barbed wire. because skeleton is a synonym for survivor, in […]
The sky reddening like an unbruised body— and you, gone for days now, calcified in this unshed nightmare where the tiger is closing its teeth over your wrist again, dozens of rabbit carcasses littering the halls again, tiger slipping quiet through the nights, […]
Somewhere out there is a statue of me where my face isn’t as long, my sadness shorter. I meet with her head-on. I tell her to turn in the direction of the power ballads and the attractive folks that sing them. I’ve just seen a face, says Paul McCartney in the middle of 1965, and […]
![7 (1) Where He suffers loss of hearing of non-traumatic origin, but arising out of and in the course of employment under the ship (the rattling engine), This is a greater loss than I can understand. Greater than the minima in Schedule D, so [Papa] is entitled to compensation under this Part of the text. I (baby) sometimes see the ship, including but not limited to: the oil, the hull, the pistons — all solid. These regular parts are equally present in [Papa]’s body, Something about life sticking to the skeleton. (3.1) The Board may make regulations to amend Schedule D in respect of a. the ranges of hearing loss, e.g. at a festive dinner with paper decorations, the fireplace full but quiet. Disability (a multi-party arrangement) can truly be this soft. b. the percentages of disability, and [Papa]’s prolonged exposure to bulls*** is not restricted to the workplace. Prior to this continent He was once a boy, shoes too small and full of holes. c. the methods or frequencies to be used to measure hearing loss. Prior to compensation, the senses must be bloated: clauses multiplying like cells. Here, the text lectures warmly for years into the future. will He still hear ______________ ? (“member of family”) (6) An application for compensation under this section must be accompanied by a specialist's report and audiogram or by other evidence of injury (i.e. concerning the domicile: at dinnertime Us girls love to take the p*** Oh yes, we mouth words to Him across the table: that today a classmate said Why the f*** can’t poor people stay out of our schools. Why Exactly.)](http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/IN-WHICH-PAPA-A-SAILOR-GOES-DEAF.png)
