stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 22554
    [post_author] => 23
    [post_date] => 2021-12-21 14:15:58
    [post_date_gmt] => 2021-12-21 14:15:58
    [post_content] => 

‘In all the chaos of the epidemic, no-one would ever realise I was gone.’ - from Midnight Sun by Stephenie Meyer

These days, handsome young men die quickly.
You were slower than most, though, sweating
through your pyjamas, sweating through your
strange bronze hair. You would have made
a fine corpse somewhere, mud spattered and
gangrenous, but, then, would anyone (apart from
the poets and Ancestry.com) really care
for your beauty? Because what is beauty
when there is no capacity to clean your teeth
or see your fiancée or have warm feet
or feel your face beneath the chin strap
of a helmet, your face beneath the
incandescent bulbs? Your teenage years
were burned up by adults.

What do you do when you are seventeen and the
world is ending? When you are seventeen you are
told that you should take chance on the chin
and live, live, live. Forevers are earnest
and empty and your shoes on the pavement
sound like the shattering heartbeats
of God. Now, all days are spent under duvets,
drifting between fever dreams of holding
someone’s hand, or standing at a busy stall of
flowers, or taking a bus. Does it matter that the secret
to living forever is in your doctor’s teeth? You just
want a nice day at the beach. You want to swim
in the sea with a nice girl. You want to eat handfuls
of strawberries, then fall asleep warm on the sand.

[post_title] => Double Sonnet to Edward Cullen, Dying of Spanish Flu [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => closed [ping_status] => closed [post_password] => [post_name] => double-sonnet-to-edward-cullen-dying-of-spanish-flu [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2021-12-21 14:15:59 [post_modified_gmt] => 2021-12-21 14:15:59 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => https://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=22554 [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => poems [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw [meta_data] => stdClass Object ( [wpcf-published-in] => [wpcf-date-published] => 2021 [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is commended in Super Mario, Fidget Spinners & Beyoncé: The Pop Culture Poetry Challenge on Young Poets Network in 2021. [wpcf-rights-information] => [wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, Pop Culture Challenge [wpcf_pr_belongs] => ) [poet_data] => stdClass Object ( [ID] => 18016 [forename] => [surname] => [title] => Nadia Lines [slug] => nadia-lines [content] => Nadia is a top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2019. She is the first-prize winner in the 11-15 age category in the Turn Up the Volume challenge on Young Poets Network, and the first-prize winner in the 2019 poetry translation challenge with Modern Poetry in Translation, judged by Clare Pollard. She is also the second-prize winner in August Challenge #2: Fairy Tale Poetry and the third-prize winner in the meme challenge, written and judged by poet Rishi Dastidar. Nadia is commended in the moon poetry challenge, judged by Nii Parkes; the Golden Shovel challenge, judged by Peter Kahn; in August Challenge #1: Re-mixing History, Fiction and the Unexpected; in the Human Cell Atlas challenge; in the Keats challenge, part of The Poetry Society's celebrations of Keats's bicentenary in 2021; and in Super Mario, Fidget Spinners & Beyoncé: The Pop Culture Poetry Challenge. ) )
stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 18016
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Nadia Lines
    [slug] => nadia-lines
    [content] => Nadia is a top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2019. She is the first-prize winner in the 11-15 age category in the Turn Up the Volume challenge on Young Poets Network, and the first-prize winner in the 2019 poetry translation challenge with Modern Poetry in Translation, judged by Clare Pollard. She is also the second-prize winner in August Challenge #2: Fairy Tale Poetry and the third-prize winner in the meme challenge, written and judged by poet Rishi Dastidar. Nadia is commended in the moon poetry challenge, judged by Nii Parkes; the Golden Shovel challenge, judged by Peter Kahn; in August Challenge #1: Re-mixing History, Fiction and the Unexpected; in the Human Cell Atlas challenge; in the Keats challenge, part of The Poetry Society's celebrations of Keats's bicentenary in 2021; and in Super Mario, Fidget Spinners & Beyoncé: The Pop Culture Poetry Challenge.
)

Double Sonnet to Edward Cullen, Dying of Spanish Flu

Nadia Lines

‘In all the chaos of the epidemic, no-one would ever realise I was gone.’ – from Midnight Sun by Stephenie Meyer

These days, handsome young men die quickly.
You were slower than most, though, sweating
through your pyjamas, sweating through your
strange bronze hair. You would have made
a fine corpse somewhere, mud spattered and
gangrenous, but, then, would anyone (apart from
the poets and Ancestry.com) really care
for your beauty? Because what is beauty
when there is no capacity to clean your teeth
or see your fiancée or have warm feet
or feel your face beneath the chin strap
of a helmet, your face beneath the
incandescent bulbs? Your teenage years
were burned up by adults.

What do you do when you are seventeen and the
world is ending? When you are seventeen you are
told that you should take chance on the chin
and live, live, live. Forevers are earnest
and empty and your shoes on the pavement
sound like the shattering heartbeats
of God. Now, all days are spent under duvets,
drifting between fever dreams of holding
someone’s hand, or standing at a busy stall of
flowers, or taking a bus. Does it matter that the secret
to living forever is in your doctor’s teeth? You just
want a nice day at the beach. You want to swim
in the sea with a nice girl. You want to eat handfuls
of strawberries, then fall asleep warm on the sand.