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
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => mould
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2020-12-04 12:59:07
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2020-12-04 12:59:07
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => https://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=21279
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
    [post_mime_type] => 
    [comment_count] => 0
    [filter] => raw
    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [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.
        )

)
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.
)

Mould

Jack Cooper

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.