stdClass Object
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    [ID] => 20451
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2019-10-10 13:07:57
    [post_date_gmt] => 2019-10-10 13:07:57
    [post_content] => I dream up an excess of horses.
              That night on the beach,
an ear carves open the ocean’s
              avian, elides this dull
stampede. Waterlogged, the mare
              sinks her trampled neck
into atonal static: pith, to make
              love/to ash. Someday,
you kneel, brook your hand through
              the deluge. The water
parses your face. How many
              departures must remain?
Anticipating, I pocket shards
              of shrapnel and glass,
string this strange fruit against
              the road’s bloat. Here,
the horizon dams
              with the bodies of men,
our bones so light
              and avian.
Are you sleeping? I
              wonder. It rains
in Budapest. The blue-
              veined loam
must lust, hold fast
              into night.
    [post_title] => Alluvion
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => alluvion
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2019-10-10 15:46:05
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2019-10-10 15:46:05
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=20451
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    [post_type] => poems
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    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2019
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is commended in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2019 on Young Poets Network (YPN), judged by Fran Brearton, MRIA, Professor of Modern Poetry at Queen’s University Belfast, and a recognised authority on 20th century war poetry; Karen Leeder, FRSA, poet and professor of Modern German Literature at New College, Oxford; Susie Thornberry, Assistant Director of the Imperial War Museum in London; and Judith Palmer, Director of The Poetry Society. The Timothy Corsellis Prize is an annual poetry prize calling for poems in response to a selection of poets of the Second World War, including Keith Douglas, Sidney Keyes, Alun Lewis, John Jarmain, Henry Reed, Anna Akhmatova, Gertrud Kolmar, Günter Eich, Miklós Radnóti and Timothy Corsellis.

Emily Liu, the poet, said of this poem, "My poem “Alluvion” draws from Miklós Radnóti’s immense concern for the dignity and sanctity of human life. His quiet awareness of the fact, contextualized against the unspeakable horror he witnessed and experienced as a slave laborer in Bor, strikes as darkly beautiful and portends an inevitable end. This central juxtaposition is highly evident in his work: scenes of war-time cruelty and crudeness inhabit worlds of pastoral beauty; a lover abides forever within the body like “a beetle hiding in the heart of a rotting tree.” The final image of Foamy Sky is equally chilling--“Foam gushes forth upon the moon./A dark green venom streaks the sky/I roll myself a cigarette,/am slowly, carefully, a living I.”

Inspired by this rich, paradoxical lyricism, I strove to evoke the parallaxes, the moments of stillness within chaos, the “muteness” and the distance that Radnóti must have felt in his final days. “Alluvion” is loosely structured and branches into the surreal--similar to a flood, it is framed as a deposition of Radnóti’s visual and emotional memory and as an expression of longing for his beloved wife, Fanni Gyarmati. Water, therefore, occupies a central motif in this poem as something that surges, breaches, and resists fixity."
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, Timothy Corsellis Prize 2019
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
        )

    [poet_data] => stdClass Object
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            [ID] => 20452
            [forename] => 
            [surname] => 
            [title] => Emily Liu
            [slug] => emily-liu
            [content] => Emily is commended in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2019.
        )

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    [ID] => 20452
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Emily Liu
    [slug] => emily-liu
    [content] => Emily is commended in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2019.
)

Alluvion

Emily Liu

I dream up an excess of horses.
              That night on the beach,
an ear carves open the ocean’s
              avian, elides this dull
stampede. Waterlogged, the mare
              sinks her trampled neck
into atonal static: pith, to make
              love/to ash. Someday,
you kneel, brook your hand through
              the deluge. The water
parses your face. How many
              departures must remain?
Anticipating, I pocket shards
              of shrapnel and glass,
string this strange fruit against
              the road’s bloat. Here,
the horizon dams
              with the bodies of men,
our bones so light
              and avian.
Are you sleeping? I
              wonder. It rains
in Budapest. The blue-
              veined loam
must lust, hold fast
              into night.